#i'm a little upset after reading the notes on that last post | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zegrasdrysdale · 4 months

Note

Could you possibly write something with Jack where the reader is having an insecure moment because she read some comments on her recent post and Jack comforts her and reassures that she’s the only girl for him and how beautiful he is, and maybe he makes a little insta post about her

[ don’t know what for ] j. hughes

paring : Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary : after reading some of the comments on her most recent insta post, Jack’s girl gets a little insecure. he reminds her just how beautiful she is

warning(s) : insecure!reader, allusions to a past eating disorder

author’s note : if y’all understand the title then we are automatically best friends (bc 1d 🫶🏼)

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She frowns as her comments are once again flooded with comments how she looks. It's always a comment about the color of her hair or that it looks like she needs to "eat a burger". As if she didn't stop eating completely when she was a teenager because she was getting comments about how she looked overweight when she was healthy.

Sometimes there's even a dig at the fact that she has blue eyes.

She knows there's a stereotype around hockey players dating or marrying women that have blonde hair and blue eyes, but she can't control the color of either. Sure, it's the type of some players but Jack told her over and over again at the beginning of their relationship that he liked her for her personality.

That doesn't mean that little voice in her head tells her that he's with her because of her hair and eyes. She's aware he has a type, and that type does match the stereotype.

Instead of getting up and going out like she had planned, she doesn't move from her bed. She cancels all plans that she had with her friends and cancels dinner with Jack that night to hide from the public.

The last thing that she needs is more pictures of her to be taken that night and more comments to roll in about the way she looks.

from: hughesy ♡ - 10:03 am wdym you don't feel good ? can i bring you soup ? i can give you back rubs if you don't want soup (ik i'm not a great cook). snacks ? soda ? ice cream ?

to: hughesy ♡ - 10:05 am i'm not hungry. i just wanted to let you know about dinner

from: hughesy ♡ - 10:19 am i'm outside your apartment. open up

Despite saying that she doesn't feel good and doesn't want to see anyone, Jack is on the other side of the door when she opens it in her hoodie with the hood up to hide her hair. He holds up flowers, a plastic bag that's probably full of candy, and a can of soup with a big smile.

"Baby, you look like you've been crying," he states when she opens the door. "Are you sure it's more than you not feeling well?"

She moves to the side so Jack can walk into her apartment. "If I tell you, you'll think it's stupid," she mumbles as she closes the door behind him and follows him further into the apartment.

Jack puts the goodies on the kitchen island and turns to his girlfriend with a frown. "Hey, you can tell me and I promise I won't think it's stupid," he assures her. "What's really going on?"

Her bottom lip wobbles as she says, "I hate being blonde and I hate having blue eyes. I feel like you're only with me because of it. I feel like if I dyed my hair brown and got brown contacts then you'd leave me. I feel too skinny and I feel too fat at the same time. I don't want to go out today and probably get my picture taken every two seconds because I don't feel pretty. I don't want to be seen eating because I'll get told I need to stop again. I don't want to be seen not eating because then I'll be told I need to put on weight. It's confusing and I hate the way I look right now."

A weight comes off her shoulders when she confesses how she really feels to Jack. The tears begin though and sobs wrack her entire body.

His frown just deepens at her confession. Jack crosses the room in three long strides to envelope her in a hug. He cradles her head like he always does when she's upset. She buries her face into his healthy shoulder and wraps her arms around his torso.

"You're so allowed to have days like this," Jack tells her. "But you need to stay out of your comment section, my love. They don't know you like I do and only see you for your hair and eyes. They don't know the you that I fell in love with. I love you no matter what and that will never change. You could dye your hair magenta and I'd still love you and think you were beautiful."

She shakes her head and looks up at him. "You don't mean that," she says.

Jack pushes the hood off her head and runs his fingers through her locks. "I mean that with my entire heart, baby," he assures her. "I think you're beautiful on your most insecure days. I think you light up the room when you walk in when you think you'd dim it. I love you when you doubt it. You're it for me. Blonde hair or not. Blue eyes or not."

"I don't believe you," she whispers.

It hurts her heart to say it but it's true at the moment. She doesn't believe Jack when he says that she's it for him. She's heard those words before and they turned out not to me true.

He runs his thumbs over her cheekbones to dry her tears and replies, "You don't have to. Not right now. Just know that I find you incredibly beautiful for the both of us." He pulls her back into a hug. "I'd love you if you shaved your head tomorrow too and that's a fact."

She bites back a smile and shakes her head. "I'm not going to go bald or something, Jack," she tells him.

"Just saying that I'd love you no matter what," he assures her. She pulls her head back to look up at him. "Hairless or not. I'd even take you to get colored contacts if that's what you really wanted."

"I know," she sighs as she buries her face back into his good shoulder. "It just sucks that no matter what I do, I still have moments like this."

Jack presses kisses to the top of her head and she wraps her arms around his torso. "You're allowed, baby," he tells her. "Just don't shut me out when you have moments like these because I have so many compliments I could give you any time you need me to. We can eat in tonight, have a movie night too. We'll order since we both know that I can't cook."

She laughs and shakes her head. "Stay out of my kitchen, Hughes," she says. "I don't need you burning down my apartment."

He smiles at her. "I'm not planning on it," he laughs. "Your apartment is safe from me. What do you want to do today?"

"Cuddle and watch movies," she replies. "That's it. That's all I want to do today."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Jack says. He cups her jaw and presses a quick, soft kiss to her lips. "My pretty girl."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

jackhughes

liked by yourusername, lhughes_06, and 128,782 others

jackhughes you’re turning heads when you walk through the door 🫶🏼🤍

view all 3,892 comments

lhughes_06 a one direction reference ? didn’t know you were a fan

jackhughes i’ve been converted into a 1d fan

fan1 she’s so pretty

fan2 oh my goshhh jack can you fight ?

yourusername my love 🫶🏼

jackhughes my pretty girl 🤍

yourusername i love youuu

jackhughes love you so much more

_quinnhughes gross

fan3 someone’s jealous

nicohischier okay jack

dawson1417 what a good bf you are

fan4 aw

hater1 ofc he’s dating a blonde

jackhughes her hair color is not the reason she’s my girlfriend. she’d look beautiful bald too

yourusername JACK ????

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fatesundress · 1 year

Text

⭑ observations ii. tom riddle x reader

part i here.

summary. two weeks after your last encounter with tom shatters all of your previous observations, tensions are high, and eventually, something's gotta give. (it's tom. he’s giving head)

tags. smut (so. so much. minors BE GONE TO WHENCE YOU CAME!), fem anatomy + reader is referred to as a woman by someone, fingering, cunnilingus, piv, again implied tall!tom or short!reader (take it however you prefer), jealous tom does not understand friendship but then again neither does reader apparently, a little wine is had, the room of requirement is used shamelessly as a plot device, did i mention smut, i’ve lost my mind etc etc.

note. this is a part two, so go ahead and read the first part and come back if you'd like :) obligatory preface: it's safe to assume any smut i write within hogwarts is a university au — these people are all 18+ tyvm. also woahh was not expecting the love on my last post so thank you! i'm still trying to figure this whole acc out so support, questions, (requests? never done those before) anything is appreciated ♡

word count. 6.3k

The next two weeks are agony. You don’t, in fact, stop meeting with Godefrey to study, because you do, in fact, still need a good mark in Ancient Runes and for all his faults he can reach the tallest shelves and he’s a faster writer than you. Also, Tom Riddle is fantastic with his hands but this does not make him God.

You find pureblood politics a bit archaic. You find muggle courting a bit stifling. This leaves very little space for what took place between you and Tom in the middle of a corridor two weeks ago (you can’t stop wincing at how insane that sounds) and very little patience for his utterly original and not-at-all entitled request that you halt your studies with Godefrey. Godefrey doesn’t stick his hands up your skirts while the two of you are studying, doesn’t silence your gasps with a shush and a finger to your mouth, doesn’t — wouldn’t (you’re so imaginative when you want to be) — tell you to keep reading as his thumb draws circles between your legs, tell you to repeat the words that get caught in your throat, tell you how much he likes it when your eyes go dumb and glassy and all you can say is his name. So, really, Tom should have nothing to worry about.

“I swear,” Selwyn says, picking at a plate you don’t think she’s actually eaten anything off with how distracted she is, “he’s looked over here at least three times.”

You don’t dare glance at who you know she’s talking about. “You’re obsessed.”

Pot. Kettle. Whatever.

“Are you sure you didn’t do something to upset him in Potions? Didn’t botch something that might mar his perfect record?”

You flick her forehead and she scowls. “I’m not an idiot, Selwyn. I handle myself just as well in Potions as he does — he wouldn’t —” Wouldn’t have complimented your rapport if that weren’t true, wouldn’t have said you communicate efficiently, make a good pair, probably wouldn’t have — fingered you in the hallway? — yes, that too. Slipped your mind. So easy to forget.

You take a long exhale, and smile impassively at her. “I didn’t botch anything, trust me.”

She finally takes a bite of food. “Maybe I did something…”

And then she’s lost in thought again, eating now, at least, and you shake your head softly as you watch what are likely a million different theories flitting through her head.

“Morning,” Tom says to you when you enter Potions after breakfast, a delicate smile tugging at his lips.

You have, of course, trained for this.

It’s your fifth — sixth? — time sharing a table with him since that night and it is somehow easier by nature and harder by anticipation (of what, you have no idea) every time. The first was terrible. Unsalvageable and without a silver lining. It had taken almost an hour that morning to charm the violent hues of red and purple spanning the column of your throat, and ultimately, the marks were so persistent you’d forgone the glamours and decided to just wear a turtleneck. You’d been fortunate it was completely inconspicuous to wear such a thing in December, but that was about all there’d been to be grateful for. You hadn’t been able to look at Tom all class and his hand had brushed yours once to take a phial from you and you’d flinched so sharply it would have shattered on the floor if he hadn’t caught it. And he’d smiled, like he’s smiling now, a soft, “Careful,” that honestly, for a short moment, made you want him dead.

Now you could speak just fine, look him in the eyes in practised intervals, and almost, impressively, make articulate conversation with him again. Make stupid comments about Slughorn and Lestrange and bear the weight of his grin knowing it was there for you.

His, he’d called you. A very funny thing.

“Morning,” you answer on a smiling sigh, sleepy but jovial all the same.

You deserve applause for this.

“Tired?”

“Mhm — Essays for Ancient Runes are due Friday and it’s been keeping us up all night.”

His eyes flash with something you’ve yet to ascertain. Your research has been put temporarily on hold, scattered and splintered by the revelation that your first observation was, admittedly, a little bit off, and you have no means of figuring out a look like that when you can’t even begin to figure out anything else.

“Has it?” he asks, a tinge less friendly.

“Well,” you say, grinding the lacewing flies, “that’s commonplace, isn’t it? You take all sorts of advanced classes, I’m sure you understand the work it takes.”

“...Hm.”

That’s it. That’s all you get from him.

And if Selwyn’s concern over you botching your work in Potions wasn’t already, obviously dispelled, the glee on Slughorn’s face as he assesses your and Tom’s cauldron should do it.

“Brilliant! Just brilliant!” He claps a hand over Tom’s back, regarding you both with pride so thick it clouds his eyes, like he's drifted into a revery of the future (you and Tom, you expect, are his most prized graduates, making history under his name, proving his immense wisdom) before he appears to return to Earth. “Ten points between the two of you, hm? Very, very good — though, of course, no surprises there!”

He chuckles to himself as he evaluates the other students, and you catch a horrified wheeze of Godefrey’s name (bless his heart) as one of the cauldrons in the back begins to sputter and froth.

You look to Tom with some droll little comment at making it to the end of term with top marks, but his gaze is burning into Godefrey’s table in such a way you wouldn’t be surprised if it was what was causing his cauldron to boil.

Well. Perhaps not, then.

You and Godefrey hand in your essay that Friday with more relief than apprehension — you both decide it’s quite good — and you laugh loudly and breathlessly as he picks you up and thanks you a thousand times, spinning you until you’re dizzy. You refrain from making any promises to attend his Quidditch games, but he vows to let you have the snitch he catches.

And Slughorn, you come to find, was not exaggerating his elation at your skill. After trotting after you on your walk back from Ancient Runes to invite you to the last Slug Club dinner of the year, your spirits are high with the blissful satisfaction of a job well done and a night to celebrate it with.

You can breathe, finally, when it’s the last week of school before Christmas break and Selwyn’s zipping the back of a last-minute dress you purchased in Hogsmeade.

“Gorgeous,” Selwyn says with a grin. “Wish this school would have a bloody ball so I could really dress you up.”

“Buy a doll, Selwyn; you can dress them however you like.”

“You are such a —”

You burst into laugher, swatting her wand away as she pokes your side with it.

“Just — go then, before I hex you.”

“All right, all right!” you concede, arms raised in surrender. “Don’t ruin all your hard work now.”

“Oh,” she calls on your way out the door. You turn and there’s a mischievous look in her eyes as she tucks her wand back in her pocket. “And do tell me before I leave tomorrow if Riddle stares at you all night.”

You groan as if it’s a truly abominable thing to imagine. Riddle, staring with those dark eyes of his? You, the centre of his attention? Ghastly. You daresay you’d never recover from the horror of it.

“Don’t leave before I tell you how remarkably uneventful a night it was,” you say with a sidelong glare, and leave before she can edge in the final word.

You have no idea what a Slug Club supper typically consists of, but you imagine for Christmas he’s gone a little further with his festivities. His office is glittering in hues of green and red and fleecy, snow-dappled gold. The lights overheard (some similar charm to the one in the Great Hall but a tad less complex, you think) drip and then vanish into the air like squeezed berries, and the berries — served with pastries and ice cream — taste like they must be enchanted with something.

Selwyn was right that the standard dress isn’t quite formal enough for a ball, but it’s… formal. The boys are in clean-cut dress robes and the girls are in fine gowns of different lengths. By the overwhelming number of them you recall being archetypes of Slytherin pureblood fanaticism, it makes sense how expensive they all look. You yourself brush up nicely, if not a bit more frugally, but you haven’t been to an event like this at the school yet, and that’s exciting on its own.

It’s another degree of training (is there going to be a marathon? Are you at war?), a step up from your preparations before Potions every other day, to be ready when Tom Riddle enters the room a respectable five minutes late with a gleam about him more captivating than any of the lights.

“Ah, Tom!” Slughorn exclaims, and ushers him into a seat you remark before Tom is even in it is discomfitingly near to yours. “We’re all here at last… Supper, then? Hope you aren’t too full already, I’ve got the House Elves running laps!”

You’re spared Tom’s closeness by a Ravenclaw couple sat in the chairs between you, their hands clasped under the table while they sip wine from their goblets, and you only realise the length of your observation when Tom glances at you from the spot over, and you startle yourself into reaching for your own goblet and pretending to enjoy Slughorn’s bitter wine.

You eat. You listen to cluttered, unending tales of Slughorn’s time at school and how he earned his post. You drink, and then you regret not drinking before eating because there’s only a very light, very nice buzz that warms you when you finish your cup, and the Ravenclaw couple is — oh, wait, it isn’t just them — they’re standing up to dance as a gramophone sparks to life and a low, dulcet instrumental begins to play. There are now two notably empty seats separating you from Tom.

What had you said this night would be? Blissful satisfaction?

You couldn’t blame Selwyn for suggesting you’d blundered Potions — you didn’t feel exceptionally smart right now.

“I didn’t know you would be here tonight,” Tom says, pulling the chair beside you.

Where is the bottle of wine? No. Nevermind. You behave regrettably enough sober.

You manage a simple, “And yet.”

“...And yet.” His lips quirk before he takes a drink from his goblet.

You lament for a second that you’ve only actually kissed those lips once. They spent a great deal longer on your neck.

“Will you be here over break?” he asks, and it isn’t an unreasonable thing to ask, you suppose.

“I think so. Why?”

“I’d like to know whether to expect you or not.”

Expect you… No, yes — revert to observation two: unusual is not an apt enough word for him.

It takes you a moment to conjure a response befitting polite dinner conversation. That is, after all, still what this is.

“I suppose you can. I’ll be busy, of course.”

Well, you didn’t say you conjured something good. It’s a big fat lie. Placating, vague, empty. And you suspect Tom knows that.

“Pity.”

Yes, he knows. He’s all quiet amusement again.

You stare off, satisfied to be left alone —

"And what is it that'll be taking so much of your time?"

“Well, I'm —” And now you have to build the lie — “I’ve told Godefrey I’ll attend to his Quidditch practise. Since the pitch isn’t in use.”

God, it’s so stupid it’s almost impressive — you don’t even know if Godefrey will be here over break, and you could have chosen any number of excuses that would pique Tom’s interest less than it’s apparently consistently piqued by the mention of your study partner.

There’s that strange, indecipherable look again. Riddle is a perfect surname for him, you decide then, and you almost laugh at yourself for it, but that would probably not go over well should he ask what’s so funny.

“Have you, now? That’s very kind of you.”

“It’s hardly charity.”

“Hm, it’s kind of you to think so.”

You huff, tipping your goblet back to swallow the last meagre dregs of your wine.

“You look lovely.”

It’s just a little bit — just a tiny, straggling little bit of elderflower that captures your throat — and you cough into your goblet. “Thank — thank you.”

And, well, he looks lovely too. Obviously. Sickeningly so. You know little about his personal life but you’re positive he’s at least a half-blood, if not muggle-born, and it makes you wonder the influence of his renownedly plain black suit in a crowd of neat, long robes.

He manages with little effort to look better than all of them at their best.

His eyes drift over you appreciatively, quick enough not to be rude but — enough. (Enough that you daresay you might never recover from the horror of it.) You adjust under his gaze even when it’s situated on your face, far too heavy a thing for you to carry. “Does Godefrey call you lovely?”

What?

You blink at him, your mouth is probably open and you probably look stupid but he’s so… irritating. Yes, of course Godefrey calls you lovely. Godefrey tells you you’re the smartest woman he’s ever met (after his mother), and he drowns you with sherbet lemons at no cost, and he writes at the speed of light to match the quickness with which you recite your textbook, and none of it means anything. Tom is just —

“Unbelievable…”

He quirks a brow. “What was that?”

“I said you’re unbelievable, Riddle. Is it impossible for you to comprehend that I might have friends? That Godefrey is my friend?”

“Well, memory serves me right that you seemed a bit confused on the conventions of friendship last you mentioned it. Do forgive my uncertainty.”

He — that was —

“Well, that’s because we are not friends.”

“No.” He leans in. “We are not.”

You push your chair from the table with all the grace you can manage for such an abrupt thing: a tight, impersonal smile on your face as you walk away and approach Slughorn, only realising when you get there that your empty goblet is clutched in your hand like you’re trying to strangle it.

Whatever he sees on your face, he isn’t drunk enough not to frown at. “Ah, our newest gem — hardly seen you all night! Not leaving already, are we?”

You glance at the clock. It isn’t as though you’re being impolite by abandoning his party in the middle of the event. It’s quite late, the servers are stuck to the walls with little to do, and most of the room has divided into waltzing pairs.

“I’m taking my friend to the train station tomorrow, sir. Unfortunately I need to be up quite early.”

Yes, yes, it’s all so tragic. You’re depressed to go.

“Such a shame,” Slughorn frets, wobbling a tad and balancing himself on the wall. “You’ll be all right getting back? Not at all dizzy, are you?” His laugh is cleaved by a loud hiccough, and then he laughs even more. “My, well, I myself will need to be carried!”

“...I’ll be fine, sir. Thank you.”

“Oh, no trouble at all — there’s — hm… ah, Tom!”

No, no — is it bad you almost reach over and slap your palm over your professor’s mouth? Is it at all impressive that you don’t? You should look on the bright side in moments like these. You should admire your restraint.

But of course, Slughorn’s eyes don’t fall upon Tom for nothing. He's halfway across the room already, and Slughorn must have spotted him approaching to achieve this brilliant solution. “Tom can escort you back, no?”

Tom (unforgivably) is beside you now, a very mean, very pretty smile on his face.

“Not too much to ask, I should think? You know the castle best. Head Boy — sometimes I still can’t believe it!”

You look up at Tom and your jaw is clenched where you’ve since put down your goblet. There is too much tension in you to know what to do with, and he looks positively thrilled.

“It’s hardly charity, sir.” He holds out his arm.

You wonder what spell would catch him most off-guard if you were to blast him in the face right now.

Slughorn claps his hands together. “Ha! Yes, well… perfect, then! Off now, the two of you, off now. Do have a good — ” He hiccoughs again — “rest!”

You don’t even bother the diplomacy of smiling at Slughorn as your arm loops through Tom’s and you’re exiting the party.

Neither of you say a word on the journey, and that’s very well.

If you could just get back to bed without speaking to him you may still consider it a good night. You may be able to push his strangeness and his entitlement and the annoying way his hair falls to another day, when he pesters you about Godefrey’s nonexistent Quidditch practise, which — come to think of it — you do think he told you he'd be headed home for the holidays. You really fumbled that one.

And then Tom’s thumb is brushing the bare skin of your arm and your walk stutters a bit. But he doesn’t mention it, and so neither do you.

And then he’s drawing down your elbow to your forearm so softly it almost feels like he isn’t touching you at all. He doesn’t mention it. Neither do you.

And then your arm, without really meaning for it to, is slipping from his and his hand is holding yours instead, feather-light as his fingers clasp yours and your breath is not the same as it was when you left.

He doesn’t mention it. He just keeps going.

His fingers work back up your arm and you shiver as they drag across your shoulder, gaze searing your neck as the soft digits find their way to your jaw, and you get the sense he’s remembering just how much he liked the taste of it, and you’re… you’re allowing it all again. You’re leaning in, you’re seeking him out, you want him flush against you and even that might not be satisfactory.

You are, in the end, a half-decent observer and a terrible liar.

You’re grabbing his hand with a small amount of direction and a great deal of meaning. You suppose it's because, historically, you’ve proven to have trouble with words in moments like these, and you don’t really know where you’re taking him but god, you know where you want him. Somewhere soft, this time, thick enough that you can fist your hands around it and melt. Somewhere he can hover over you, maybe hold you down a little, just until — maybe, miraculously — you might make him break a little too. Clamber over his lap. Make him yours.

“Tom,” you mouth, some question in the way your eyebrows knit.

The moment you say his name — the instant — he’s pulling you in, crushing his mouth against yours. And, ah, right, that’s what his lips feel like. You’d almost forgotten.

This kiss is not chaste, hardly tender. It resists in that it asks you to push, to plead, to take this for yourself to prove how badly you want it, and he smiles into it when you do. And then, sated by your efforts, he lets you have him. You’re gripping the collar of his suit in your hands as his wander appreciatively over the back of your dress, pulling you into him as the kiss deepens. He’s savouring you like you’re something religious that’s been offered to him, and there’s the taste of wine on his tongue and you’re still here, aware enough that the symbolism isn’t lost on you.

“I've been thinking," he says between kisses, “about the way you felt when I touched you. I've been thinking about how long it might take before you need it again."

You gasp at the sensation, and god, god, you've been wondering too, haven't you?

You’re pulling him impossibly closer and something hard is pressing into your hip and you clutch tighter onto his shirt as you moan into his mouth. You need it off, you think, and — has your dress been clinging to you like this all night? You need that off too. You need skin on skin. You careen him backwards without aim, your mind a muddled mess of all the many things your body is screaming it needs, like this is fucking imperative; to give it up would be catastrophic.

You suppose, based on what you’ve read, that that’s how the Room of Requirement works, but it’s still funny to think it would apply to this.

It hurts to remove yourself from him to watch in dumb awe as the door forms in the stone (to see the dark, languid shape of his eyes bearing down on you, the wet, stained pink of his lips), and Tom seems to recover from the revelation much faster than you.

His mouth is on yours once more, a hungry kiss; his free hand at your waist, guiding you through the door and shutting it carelessly behind him.

He’s like fire against you, radiating as he presses down on you, his hand tangled in your hair and his hips flush against yours. You shiver as his mouth starts to move down (a cheap trick — he hasn’t forgotten how much you liked it the last time) from your jaw to your throat, as his lips trail down your chest and you're shivering into the warmth of him.

You’ve heard it said before, in some romantic sense, that it’s sometimes hard to tell where you end and someone else begins.

This is not like that.

You've never been more aware of anything than the point where you and him meet.

You’re tugging at him blindly again, trusting in the nature of the Room like this isn't the first time you've been in it, and then you're stumbling down onto a bed you're quite sure wasn't there a moment ago (people say magic is a neutral force but evidently this is not the fucking case), fingers carding through Tom's hair as his body pins you into the mattress.

His mouth is molten hot as you squirm and pant beneath him, your breath coming faster than it ever has. Everything feels sharper and deeper and more intense under his touch, every sensation heightened until it's almost impossible to tell pleasure from pain, his tongue from his teeth.

How did it take you this long to do this again? To need him like this?

And his — you should really have the mind to see the mistake in all of this but perhaps that's for later — his fingers are pulling your sleeves down, propping your back to arch as he reaches under you to unzip your dress, apparently too impatient to sit you up and take it off properly so he just bunches it around your waist instead. There’s a moment where he stops to look at you, your chest exposed to him in the dim sconce-light, and then his mouth returns to circle your breast and you're biting down on a pillow to hold back the whimpering gasp that seeks to escape you. He hums around your flesh, and then he’s at your sternum, kissing a stripe to your belly button before pushing past the dress he's left ringed around your abdomen.

You shimmy under the weight of him to prop your head up — to see past the mass of silk that obscures his face from you as moves lower and lower, hands spanning your hips to keep you still.

His face hovers above your thighs, and he doesn’t move.

“Did you enjoy my fingers?" he asks.

At that you freeze, thighs pressing together to bury the hand that's rising between them.

Tom smiles. “Hm, you did."

And then he spreads your legs apart, one hand pushing your underwear aside and regarding you with delicate, shameless appetite — something that might even be adoration: like this is all he ever wanted you to want.

“Do you think you'd enjoy my mouth, too?"

Words are gone. There's nothing left in you.

His head moves happily between your knees, holding them apart, pressing kisses to the base of your thighs. Your hands flail from the sheets, desperate to grip something else and you hold back a sound that feels like irritation and need at the same time. You need him closer, higher than this. He knows. You can feel his smile biting into your skin.

And then you manage a nod though you're not even sure he's looking at your face anymore (and what a picture to imagine he is) and you worry momentarily it won’t be enough for him — that he’ll ask you to be nice and say it out loud for him — but he hums with something merciful, and — his chin dips. You catch the smallest glimpse of his tongue before it’s on you, wet and slow and unrelenting and you say his name, but it’s a mewl; you choke on it. It sounds like a cry.

Pitiful, needy, undone. Just how he wants you.

You think all efforts to remain even remotely composed are thrown to the wind as soon as his tongue is lapping at you, fast and then slow, everything you want and not even remotely close. He sinks all his weight down as if he can predict the moment you'll writhe before you do — and you do. And with his grip he tells you to endure it. You only need him to say it with his hands and his mouth but he breathes back, licking his lips and he actually says it. “Be good.”

That makes your breath hitch and your cheeks swell impossibly hotter, and reality is a small glint in your peripheral where everything else is burning red. “Y-you’re—”

His mouth returns to you, tongue catching your clit in a drawn-out, agonising motion, and you gasp and lurch forward to inch through the sensation, craving more, more, more. Reason is lost on you, a throbbing familiarity forcing you to grind your teeth down on the pillow to stop yourself from telling him to — you don’t even know. Finish you. Abandon all reluctance. Just let you come as hard as you know he wants you to.

But he pauses, observant as he starts to work his fingers against you. Watching how your slick coats them like it’s the most enthralling sight he’s ever witnessed. Slowly, ever so slowly, he starts to push one inside of you, hearing your breath catch above him and the moan that comes tumbling out of your throat, pillow be damned.

You do your best to breathe through it, and you know he knows how to make you unfold like this, so the meticulous lightness of his ministrations tells you he’s trying to keep it from you now. You’re almost embarrassed about the fact that you’re dripping onto his hand regardless; his lips puffy, his gaze unnervingly, dizzyingly carving you in two.

“Just,” you rasp, clutching desperately at his wrist. “Tom, please.”

Your begging must be music to his ears. (It’s a rare, unplanned fifth observation: that you think he’ll never get tired of hearing you say his name like that.)

He adds a finger. It’s encircling you, first, and no amount of restraint can stop the harsh gasp that leaves you, but then it’s his tongue and two fingers and he’s pushing into you how you wanted, and he makes a pleased sound against you, gripping you tighter with his free hand, still not allowing you movement and fuck, are you trying. What you're feeling now — the need, the want, everything — is more than rational thought. Your mind goes blank, and all that matters is this, him, right here and now; nothing else exists, not even for a second. You moan, a low, throaty noise that's a little too loud, a little too intense; you can't recall if anything has ever come from you quite like it and Tom devours you at the sound.

More, you agree; it's almost an obsession in you now; more, more, please, anything and everything.

It’s the precision of his touch — not some bored, hurried transgression — that brings your hands helplessly to his hair.

“Tom,” you whine, holding him tight, and the purr of his mouth finding you again is something destructive.

As soon as you feel another swell of something deep down, your mouth is dropping open.

His tongue is sliding through you, fingers curling, and then your clit is in his mouth, and he’s watching you between your thighs as your eyes clench shut, and you’re coming.

Your voice breaks somewhere in the catastrophe of it. Your body spasms, electric down to every atom, and he pins you down through it. He doesn’t grant you the reprieve of escaping the frenzied, glorious torture of it. His mouth still lingers. His tongue moves thankful and unrelenting.

He takes all of you, and you think this is destruction — creation — both. How terrifyingly similar they suddenly feel.

His lips are swollen and slick when he finally detaches them from you and you want to kiss him, but he’s leaning back to admire his work. You swallow, unable to blame him for it because you look down at yourself and — this is something else. You’re dripping down his chin. You're shaking. Your legs are still clenching around his torso. They’re holding him so tight you can’t imagine it doesn’t hurt.

But he just rolls off of you. Adjusts his trousers and your abdomen flutters and you think, don’t.

You don’t even realise you’re reaching for him until your hand is around his wrist and you’re still fucking sighing through the come-down, panting into the hot air.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, fingers damp on your chin as he holds you. You make a note that that’s the second time he’s done that. That you thought it was strangely intimate the first time and nothing’s changed other than how much more you like it.

And it doesn’t really feel like you can help it but crawl with gooey, trembling legs onto his lap. Doesn’t feel like you can help it when you lean in and capture his lips with yours, moan unabashedly into his mouth at the stiffness that presses against your core when you do, steal his tongue and the taste of you on it.

When he pulls away he’s looking at you like he doesn’t think you can actually do this. Like you’d just crumble the moment you tried.

A low, determined protest rises in your throat and you’re kissing him again. You’re unbuttoning his dress shirt, you’re trembling to reach for his trousers.

When you can finally shrug his shirt off, press yourself against him, feel that skin on skin you wanted so badly, you find it somehow even more suffocating than its absence. You’re left wanting a more you aren’t able to even conceptualise, but you’re grinding involuntarily against him and his teeth are scraping your neck and he's hissing at the sensation, and — yes, there’s more.

Your breath is staggered when your hips stutter into a roll and you — fuck. You’re tugging desperately to remove his belt and he smiles against your throat as he takes your hands and guides them to him. You can feel his bulge against your thigh and you’re spreading your legs to usher him where you want, clawing at his chest without even meaning to.

Tom’s taking off his belt, and he’s pulling down his trousers just enough to bare himself to you, and maybe he’s right that you can’t manage it yourself but he stops his assistance like the intrigue of finding out is too good to resist. There's something both intimate and imperious, in a way, about the way he's looking at you now; it's a kind of focus and intensity and withheld hunger just for you; and you're more than happy to give yourself over to it, to let his hands and his eyes and his mouth claim you for his own. To claim him for yours, at last.

You do. You struggle for it. He’s very patient.

But then it’s there — more — as you finally sink down on him and bite his shoulder and he shudders a low, pained exhale, his hands clutching your waist.

There’s a silent, suspended moment where neither of you move. The room feels entirely still.

Your lips quiver over his pulse, and your stomach flips at the intensity of it, the undeniable rate of his desire beneath you. You smile against him now, like he always does to you, conscious enough to mumble into his neck, “Mine.”

Tom stutters inside you, fingers gripping you impossible tighter as you dare to think he even gasps. You dare to think he likes it.

And then one of his hands grabs your jaw and his kiss is searing. He thrusts upward and you cry into his mouth, searching to match his pace in a way that you appreciate, for once, he seems unlearned in.

It’s all a bit messy, a bit new, palms in fists, in skin, in hair, digging for every part they haven’t already taken from. The sound in the back of Tom’s throat is divine, the feeling of him inside you as he slips his hand back between your legs — like he needs everything, like he knows you do too — it’s ineffable. It coils somewhere deep, touches something you didn’t know existed. Your hips are rotating, thighs still soft and slack from coming apart on his tongue, but you’re determined. It feels like finding even ground. It feels like something you deserve: to make him feel how you did.

Your head rolls back, eyes pinching shut in bliss, but Tom is there at your jaw again, forcing your blurry gaze back to him.

His hips are inching even further, the intensity of his pace as he adjusts to you making you dizzy. You think, realistically, there’s sound coming out of you, but you aren’t entirely sure when it’s so close to him, when your mouth is between his fingers and your ears are ringing and he’s looking at you like you’re made for him.

“Mine.” And it isn’t a dismissal of your own claim but a confirmation that one will not be without the other. His voice is raw and breathy and something about the way he says it makes you contract inadvertently around him, hands swatting his chest like they don’t know what else to do. There’s just too much.

You recognize you’re trying to say something. Some plea, a moan, his name (is there anything else left?), but you’re just babbling into his mouth and he holds you there. He doesn’t kiss you. It’s your failing words against his lips. He swallows whatever syllables try to shape them.

It’s there again when you need it most; the heavy, swirling feeling inside you as he snaps his hips, his fingers returning to your waist with punishing firmness. His breathing accelerates, low in his throat, and you push harder against him. Your vision is gone again, head held in his hands to keep from rolling back so that, you suspect, he can watch defeat split you down the middle again — not over your shoulder, not with his head between your legs — with his eyes on yours, with every broken moan you let out so close to his face he can feel the breath of each one.

You’re grappling desperately at skin that doesn’t feel like enough, even though he’s rocking inside you, and you see the insanity of it, you see that it isn’t logical. Too much and not enough at once — you’re smart enough to know that doesn’t work, but it just is.

“Please,” you manage in a voice you don’t recognize. “Please, Tom, pleasepleaseplease —”

Had you said before it was foolish to call him forgiving? You take it back. He’s very eager to oblige you.

He finds some place inside of you and you don’t know quite what it is that he changes but it's new, uncharted, and you break there. You dissolve. You’re liquid in his hands as you sob, stuttering around him, trembling like you didn’t know was possible, and you swear — you swear you’re going to take him there with you. It isn’t that you could stop yourself if you tried but your body is gripping around him, fingers carving halved spheres into his skin, and you’re pushing down on him through the ecstasy — you’re forcing your eyes open so he can see you break, watch them flutter back all soft and pretty.

And you're sated by your ruin when it ruins him too.

The sound he makes is ragged. Undone. He can only bury it halfway with a kiss you think is actually more of a bite, twitching inside you as he fucks you through it.

You’re both lost in each other for a moment that feels detached from time, feeling his hips stutter to a halt, feeling your body soften. And he’s pulling out of you like it hurts, mouth falling open as he does. You wince at the loss, the sweet soreness between your legs, and you’re held only by the weight of him. You think — and you actually sway like the mere idea is too strong — that if it weren’t for his hands, you’d fall flat off the bed.

But he sort of lifts you off him, lays you down and watches you for a long time as if to decide something important before he's laying down beside you. You watch him too. His fingers brush your hair out of your face, and when there’s not a single curl left clinging to the sweat on your skin, he continues anyway. You let him trace your lips, your jaw, your nose, and somehow, a bit terrifyingly, your final observation: nothing about it feels unusual at all.

You did say he was yours.

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle smut #tom riddle x y/n #tom marvolo riddle #voldemort #voldemort x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle oneshot #NO LONGER!#but it is only a two-parter sorry. this is it #harry potter fanfiction #wizarding world

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invidiia · 1 year

Text

❐ - yandere!dazai and yandere!chuuya comforting the reader on their period

notes ; headcanons for anyone else who on their period rn </3 the worst thing ever tbh.. this is kinda self indulgent

prompt ; dazai and chuuya's (separate) darling gets their period and they comfort them

warnings ; yandere themes, blood, kidnapped!reader, drugging, ada!dazai, soft!yan chuuya and dazai, mentions of sex but no actual doing it, mention of stalking, afab reader, toxic relationships

masterlist - rules - last post

dazai ::

it's not like you can hide your period from dazai, especially if he kidnapped you.

dazai doesn't know a ton about periods - sure, he knows that they existed, but he didn't think the situation through when he first kidnapped you. he didn't buy pads or anything in advance when he first decided to take you for himself, so when he woke up to see blood on the sheets under you, dazai was a tiny bit surprised.

but not entirely - he should have known the time of your month would roll around soon enough. dazai wasn't mad or upset at all.

"ah.. belladonna, why didn't you tell me about this? no, i'm not mad at you! i think this means no sex for.. how long?! i don't think i'll surviivee~!"

just ignore his wailing and you'll probably be fine

dazai's not actually upset, he really does wanna help you. he'll wrap you in a blanket while he goes to leave for the store, poking your cheek and smiling a little too softly while he tells you to be good while he's gone

he doesn't have bad intentions or anything, he's just being overly nice to you because he just feels like it

he comes back from the store with whatever you neeed, he probably asked a female member of the agency or a worker or someone else who knew what to get for you, because there is absolutely no way in hell he actually knows what to buy

but he definitely came back with a few things that you liked!! no point in asking how he knew you liked the stuff, because he'll just say he stalked you, and that might just make you more uncomfortable. best not to question him!!

he sees your cramp pain as an excuse to hold and touch you more. he doesn't care that you're bleeding the entire time, dazai just likes that he can hold you!

of course, he realizes that cuddles don't stop the cramping - he just thinks it'll help a lot more. dazai get's super touchy and clingy because he knows that you're less likely to resist. even if you do, he doesn't mind unless you insult him, because then he'll just lock you in the bathroom with water and some of the snacks he bought you to give you some 'alone time.' after about an hour or two, he's sure you'll come back into his arms!! <3

oh, belladonna, i thought you didn't want to cuddle, and now you're holding onto me..? no matter, i'm glad you've finally came around.. is there anything you want?

chuuya ::

chuuya also knows about periods and what they are, but he knows a little bit more about them than dazai, because he's just him yk?? he's that dude (other than jay from the kubz scouts)

when he first woke up to you next to him with blood under you, he thought you were hurt or something, but then when he woke you up, you had to explain to him that you just got your period and that you were fine.

by your argument, chuuya made a big deal out of it, but by chuuya's, he was just helping you feel better.

"darling, stop movin', i'm just trying to make you feel better.. what? yeah.. yeah, i'll get whatever you want, okay?"

if you yell at him, he'll just give you space. of course he'll still get you what you want, he'll just be.. less doting.

he'll even go as far to ignore you. so while you're wailing in pain from your cramps, chuuya's sitting down comfortably on the couch, reading and paying no attention to your little sobs from the pain of your cramps. it's really just a toxic thing - he doesn't wanna see you in such pain, he really doesn't. but why should he be so kind to you if you don't want to be nice?

i can imagine an argument breaking out between you two, because he can't ignore you forever. if you decide to yell at him again, then he'll just yell back.

chuuya might even just drug you to shut you up, offering you tea or medicine to help you feel better. but five minutes later, you're out like a light while he picks up your body to wrap you up back in blankets.

you'll probably wake up with arms wrapped around your waist with his knee inbetween your thighs. chances are, you're still affected by the drug and too tired to move or push him off. he understands that cuddling doesn't fully stop the cramp pain, but he doesn't care, because all chuuya wants to do is help you.

"don't move.. it's okay. just go back to sleep. i love you, okay?"

#klya..writes #yandere dazai x reader #yandere dazai osamu #yandere osamu dazai #yandere chuuya nakahara #yandere chuuya x reader #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #bsd x reader #yandere bsd x reader #tw yandere #tw stalking #tw d

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highvern · 10 months

Text

Teach Me IV

extra credit

Pairing: Lee Dokyeom (Seokmin) x fem!reader

Genre: smut, humor, college au, frat!svt

Warnings: mentions of drug use (weed) and alcohol , phone sex, exchange of nudes, both are down horrendous, mutual masturbation, making out, dry humping, idiots in like, dokyeom has a praise kink and isn't ashamed, snippets of disgusting fluff

Length: ~5.1k

Note: ugh ... anyways! i know i mentioned potential angst in an ask but i'm weak

read more here

The best part of starting Fall Break on a Friday is having to do absolutely nothing for five blissful days. But because he is easily swindled by his friends, Dokyeom is ass over tits and the clock hasn’t even chimed 8PM. After the incredibly awkward week following your latest tryst, he’s thankful for the mind numbing freedom of alcohol, weed, and nothing but miles of mountain and woods.

Or he would be if wasn’t still upset you turned down his invitation to join him this weekend.

So he sneaks into his room and pulls up your Instagram. You're at the top of his results when he clicks into the search bar.

You posted a new photo this afternoon. A memory of a girls night out, sandwiched between two of your friends outside some bar, nothing but wide drunk smiles and closed eyes under the flash of the camera. Dokyeom already saw it. Already liked it.

He keeps scrolling, down down down till he reaches his favorite picture. A frozen memory of you outside some cafe, slumped in an iron wrought chair, sunglasses obscuring half of your face; your mouth is spread over a wild guffaw, teeth flashing and the corner of your lips arched high in amusement. Whatever had amused you pulled your entire body in, shoulders curved up as your chest caves, chin tipped back.

The soft pink sundress hugging you snugly is an added bonus.

And somewhere in his muddled mind, Dokyeom decides he needs to talk to you. Right. Now.

After the third ring, the call connects.

“Heyyy, pretty lady.”

“Oh my god, are you drunk?” You laugh, and Dokyeom can imagine the same expression from the photo flashing across your face.

God, she even sounds pretty. He thinks.

He whines through the goofy smile plucking the corners of his lips, “Nooooo.”

“Oh, really?”

“Maybe I’m a little drunk.”

“Only a little?” You jest.

“Maybe a lot-tle.”

“I can tell.”

“Wish you were here.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Haven’t seen you in like a week.”

If he wasn’t wasted then he might feel embarrassed, but Dokyeom finds the words slipping past him without a second thought as he rocks back and forth, caught in waves of emotion.

“How’s the cabin been so far?”

The sudden change in topic scratches unpleasantly but he lets it go.

“Would be more fun if you were here.” He confesses. “What are you up to?”

“Laying in bed, watching Love Island.”

“What are you wearing?”

“Seriously?” You scoff.

“What?”

“You’re so lame, Kyeom.”

“I’m curious about what you do when you’re alone.” He tries to sound innocent. “You’re alone, right?”

“Yeah, Ava left for the weekend.”

“So what are you doing this weekend?”

He’s fishing for the real reason you told him you couldn't come with him to the cabin. You’d been purposefully vague the few times Dokyeom probed since last Thursday, claiming any excuse under the sun: a friend coming to visit, getting ahead on assignments, pulling a few extra shifts at the library. Anything to avoid flat out rejection.

“You know, this and that. What about you guys? Any big plans?”

“Some of the guys mentioned a hike tomorrow. And Beer-lympics Sunday.”

“God, you’re such a frat bro.”

“I can do better.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. What are you wearing?” He tries again.

He hears you huff, “Pajamas.”

“Sexy.”

“I actually think this is your shirt.”

“Oh? Send me a pic.”

“What do I get if I do?”

“What do you want?”

“Are you hard?”

“I can be.”

“I’ll send you a picture if you send me one too.”

“Fuck, okay.” He agrees, tapping open his camera app and trying out a few angles, working himself up in the process.

Dokyeom settles for cupping the bulge over his pants, outline of his cock pronounced as he lightly squeezes. He’s highly aware of your obsession with his hands, so he tries to flex his arm forcing the web of veins to rise as the muscles clench.

“I’m waiting.” You goad on the other end of the phone, knocking him out of his concentration.

The five photos he’s snapped all look about the same. Settling on the least blurry one, he quickly opens your messages and sends it before changing his mind.

A sharp inhale announces its arrival on your phone.

“Your turn.”

He can hear the rustle of clothes and blankets through the speaker, and a whispered curse following a dull thud. Dokyeom can’t help the chuckle that escapes as he pictures whatever caused it.

The photo you send back takes him a second to decipher. You're definitely wearing his shirt, the bottom hem bunched across your breasts, the swells of flesh peaking out near the top of the picture; perfectly omitting your face. Tracing down your bare stomach, your hips are wrapped in powdery blue cotton panties. And if that wasn’t enough, one hand is stuffed underneath, pulling the elastic taunt across the crease in your hip as it stretches to accommodate your fingers.

Holy shit.

“You like it?”

“You're evil.” Head rolling back, Dokyeom groans as he takes it all in. “You want me dead.”

You giggle at his tone.

“Fuck,” he mutters, continuing to study your figure. “You’re so hot.”

“Kyeomie,” you whine, obviously embarrassed under his attention.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Yeah,” you mewl.

“Dirty girl.”

“Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?”

The back and forth of your relationship is the funnest part, in Dokyeom’s opinion. You like when he puts you in your place as much as he enjoys you putting him in his. It helps that even when he assumes the more dominant role, you still praise him as if he’s the best thing since sliced bread. It scratches that submissive part of his brain that always wants needs to be good. Especially for you.

“I can think of a few things.”

“Oh? Like what?”

Phone sex is unfamiliar territory. He isn’t sure how much is too much and the awkward parting last week still stains his brain. But you just sent him a photo with your hands down your underwear so Dokyeom tries to go with the flow.

“Could make you cry on my cock.” He flushes when you remain silent for a second too long . “Sorry, that felt awkward.”

“No!” You object, voice crackling through the speaker at the sharp increase in volume. “It, ugh, that’s hot.”

“What? Crying from my dick?”

“You don’t think so?”

Dokyeom’s cock twitches, as if to signal its eager agreement.

“I think anything involving you near my penis is hot so I’m not really a good judge.”

“Well, just imagine it. Remember that time we fucked at Wonwoo and Mingyu’s house party?”

“Not appreciating you saying other dudes’ names while my dick is in my hand but yeah.”

You snicker at his reprimand. “Anyway. Remember how I wanted you to fuck my mouth?”

Dokyeom takes a sharp inhale as the memory rushes forward. You on your knees, eyes glossy and lips bruised, begging him to stretch your throat. The second the request reached his ears Dokyeom nearly came on your sweater covered chest, but he’d ignored your request, hauling your ass up onto the counter in favor of stuffing your cunt. You hadn’t complained.

“But you wouldn’t because you didn’t wanna mess up my makeup?”

“You looked pretty… didn’t wanna ruin it.”

“Yeah but I wanted you to.”

Another squeeze of his cock as he slips his hand under his boxers, “Yeah?”

“You’re really hot when you tell me what to do.”

“Fuck.” He groans, vocabulary limited by the husky timbre of your voice. “Are you touching yourself?”

“Mhhmm, doesn't feel as good as when you do it though.”

A pathetic thrust through his fist at the praise. “I know but I’ll make it up to you next time. Promise.”

“How?”

“Might tie you up. Fuck you till your screamming.” Dokyeom doesn’t know who he’s become but you seem to like it.

“Oh?”

Your reply is all breath, the same way you sign when he gives you his fingers after a long study session. The beads of pre-cum on his tip increase as he works his cock, almost able to fill the way you’d coat his fingers if he was there to give them to you.

“You like that? Want me to use your tight little pussy? Fill it up?”

“Want you to come inside me again, Minnie. So hot.”

“I know, pretty girl. So desperate for it aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” you squeak, “Are you close?”

“Send me another picture.”

Only a few seconds pass, filled with muffled groans on his end and the clack of your nails on yours. Dokyeom rushes to open the new attachment you’ve blessed him with, heart clenching when his stomach caves around a moan.

The photo is blurry from your haste but he doesn’t care. You're drenched. The crotch of your panties tinged darker as you pull them aside, flashing the way your entrance stretches around three of your fingers. Your clit just barely visible, puffy and swollen from neglect.

“Fuck, baby.”

“Minnie—” Your voice sounds far away, and he realizes you've put yourself on speaker so you can use both hands.

“Can you do something for me?” he grounds, squeezing the base of his cock to stop his impending end.

“Anything.”

Another deep breath before he lays himself bare, “Drive up here tomorrow.”

“What?” You ask, the springs of your mattress squeaking as you sit up, clearly confused by the switch in pace.

“I wanna see you.”

“I—”

“Promise I’ll make it worth your while.” Dokyeom scrambles.

Another pause before a timid, “How?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Dangerous words.”

“Pretty sure I’ll enjoy it just as much as you.”

“I don’t know…”

“If you don’t want to, it's fine but,” he sighs, “if you can I want you to come. And not just because of sex.”

“Then why?”

“Because I like—” He cuts himself off hastily. “Because I like spending time with you.”

As seconds tick by without response, Dokyeom is sure you're going to call his bluff. Or worse, laugh in his face. He’s sweating, heart beating irregularly as he waits for your reply.

“Really?” Shyness creeps into your voice.

Dokyeom nods before realizing you can’t see him. “Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll come.”

“Really?” Dokyeom asks, eyes wide and jaw slack. No way it's this easy.

“Really,” he can hear you smile. “But only because you said you’d give me whatever I want.”

“You’re gonna make me regret that aren’t you?”

“Absolutely.” You tease, enunciating each syllable as his heart beats in time. “But Kyeomie…”

“Yeah?”

“I’m still wet.”

“Can’t have that.” He tsks.

“Please,”

“Be a good girl and play with your clit.” Dokyeom instructs, slipping right back in.

A hitch in your breath precludes a satisfied “hmmm”. He wishes he could taste both on his tongue.

“Touch yourself too.” You plea.

Dokyeom’s wound so tight a gust of wind would have his load all over his stomach. He tells you as much.

“Shiiit” You curse, catching up to him. “Close.”

“Yeah? Think you deserve it?”

If he was there, Dokyeom knows he’d see the frustrated kick of your legs and feel the daggers shooting from your eyes.

“You ignored me all last week, I don’t know if I should let you.”

“Dokyeom, please!”

“But since I get to see you tomorrow.” he tuts, covering up the catch of his breath as you plea again. “Let me hear it.”

The call devolves into choked curses and groans. He keeps the screen close to his face as he focuses back on the picture you sent, painting his fist with streaks of white as you beg him to cum, choke on how much you want to taste. Your stuttered “ah”s floating right into his ears as you twist and shake in your bed hours away.

When Dokyeom can feel himself returning to his body, he soaks in the lull of you catching your breath.

“You good?”

“Yeah.” You sigh dreamily.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Send me the address.”

“Oh and Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m happy you’re coming…”

“Goodnight,” you chuckle at the double entendre.

“Night.”

Even with the satisfaction of an orgasm coursing through his veins, the fizzing bubbles of happiness in his chest have nothing to do with the cum cooling in his underwear.

The drive to the cabin is two hours and thirty seven nerve wrecking minutes. Dokyeom has been up since six, texting you the address, asking you to let him know when you left, keep him updated on any pit stops you needed to make. Not to rush up the mountain and drive safely.

The digital clock on your dash reads just past noon as you slowly creep up a narrow gravel road, praying another car doesn’t swoop around the bend. Of course a pack of frat boys would choose some creepy woods to set up camp for a long weekend.

You dial Dokyeom’s number just to be safe. Barely a full ring passes before he picks it up.

“Hey!”

“Hey… I think I’m pulling up to the right place?” You scan for any sign of a driveway on either side of the road without any luck.

“Oh shit, I’ll come outside. Jun got us lost yesterday when he drove up so it’s tricky.”

Taking a left as you finally spot the red mailbox with a beaver carved into the dark wooden post at the end of the lengthy driveway, a two story cabin comes into view between the trees. Dokyeom jogs from the porch to meet you at the edge of the yard. Rolling down your window as he makes his way over, you greet him.

“Hey,”

“Hey,” he smiles, bright enough to blind a village.

“Um, where should I park?”

“Just pull up behind anyone, it doesn't matter.”

“Alright.”

Dokyeom walks next to you as you pull in behind a white sedan. Once in park, you pop the trunk before slipping out the door. He already has your bag tossed over his shoulder, tangling your fingers with his as he pulls you towards the house.

“Some of the guys went on a hike earlier so I’ve been helping Seungkwan and Mingyu clean up.”

“Oh, you didn’t need to wait for me.”

“I wanted to.”

Before you can think too much on that statement, Seungkwan interrupts by tackling you in a hug.

“Oh thank god you’re here.”

“Hi to you too.” You say, carrying his weight as he goes boneless.

“Hi,” he responds with a squeeze, before turning to Dokyeom with a blunt, “Goodbye.”

Seungkwan pulls you inside the front door, beelining for the sliding glass doors that lead to the back porch.

“Hey!”

Without slowing, Seungkwan fends him off. “She was my friend first!”

“Yeah well,” Dokyeom flounders like a washed up fish.

“You dazzle with words. Now go away.” Seungkwan sniffs.

Sending an apologetic smile over your shoulder, you allow Seungkwan to usher you along. You spot another person in the kitchen, face shadowed by the hood of his sweater. He doesn’t look up when you and Seungkwan shuffle pass.

“Ignore Mingyu, his girlfriend broke up with him yesterday.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah, anyway.” Seungkwan plops onto one of the chairs circled around the patio table. “Speaking of girlfriends—”

“Did you finally get one?”

“Being mean is bad for your health.” He deadpans. “As I was saying, did Dokyeom ask you to be his?”

“His what?”

“His girlfriend.”

Your ears ring at the nonchalance in Seungkwan’s tone.

“Why would he ask me to be his girlfriend?”

“Why else would you get up at the ass crack of dawn to come to this dump?”

“He said he wanted me to come.” You answer, turning your head to observe the lake beyond the thin tree line.

“After you told him no? Wow, didn’t realize he was that good in bed.”

Your hands itch to circle his neck and shake but Seungkwan is saved by the very man in question.

“Hate to interrupt but I thought you might want some coffee?”

You turn around, smiling as Dokyeom leans out of the sliding glass door, “Yeah, that sounds great.”

“We aren’t done talking!” Seungkwan calls as you reach the door.

“I am!”

Mingyu apparently retreated to his room after you stepped outside, nowhere to be found in the kitchen or living room beyond the counter.

The isolation makes you nervous which is strange because it’s just Dokyeom. But his words last night over the phone, coupled with Seungkwan’s on the porch twist your guts uncomfortably.

It’s too late to bail. You can’t claim illness since Dokyeom will fawn over you like some mother hen. Besides, you don’t actually want to leave. You just can’t stand the nagging voice in the back of your head insisting this isn’t what friends do. Even if said friends are having sex.

“Wanna show me your room?”

“Sure!” Dokyeom is still cheery, eagerly leading you upstairs and down a maze of hallways.

The outside of the cabin, while daunting, failed to betray how big it actually is as you pass door after door on your journey.

The room Dokyeom is sharing with Soonyoung is cozy. Two full sized beds with little room for anything else and an en suite the size of a closet. But at least you won’t have to battle it out with anyone else for a bathroom during the next three days.

Dokyeom was lucky enough to claim the bed closests to the bay windows, framing a pleasant view of the backyard, dock, and sprawling lake. When you step closer, you can spot Seungkwan’s mop of hair as he leans on the edge of the railing that borders the porch; hand animated as the other holds his phone near his mouth.

Turning back to the bed, you spot your bag on the floor at the foot of it. The room is ten degrees hotter when you realize Dokyeom was lying right there as he talked you through an orgasm barely twelve hours ago. You awkwardly shuffle on your feet as you try to find something to say.

Dokyeom seems unperturbed, flopping onto the mattress, arms thrown wide in invitation. A shy grin twists your lips. Hair a mess, and cheeks flushed, Dokyeom looks cute. He’s always cute but navy crew neck and gray sweats transforms him into a cozy dream. The mattress dips under your knee as you crawl to lay next to him.

Settling your head over his heart, arms twining around one another, you feel your own give a peculiar squeeze. It’s truly no different than all the other times you’ve cuddled, albeit those were post-coitous; except it is. Dokyeom told you he wanted you here, that he likes spending time with you, and now he’s squeezing the life out of you as he snags one of your legs to wrap around his waist.

When sleep tickles your nose, pleasantly warm and inviting, you ignore how Dokyeom isn’t your boyfriend. What you have right now is perfect enough.

—

The sweet hum of Dokyeom’s voice lulls you awake, a simple melody you vaguely recognize from his playlist he insists on blasting during your hangouts. Gray light from outside casts the room sullenly dark. Storm clouds, swollen to a near black, eclipse the late afternoon sun. Dokyeom’s neck is the perfect place to escape the unavoidable sounds of the cabin filled with life, eyes firmly shut as you inhale the smell of laundry detergent and pine.

One of your hands managed to twist under his sweater in your sleep, fisting his thin T-shirt as you attempt to beckon sleep out of hiding and back towards you. A pathetic whine escapes when Dokyeom jostles you in an attempt to find a more comfortable position, only silenced by his lips against your forehead and his stroking your elbow.

“Shhhh,” he coos. “Go back to sleep.”

“What time is it?”

“Like five.”

Lifting back from his neck, you pout. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

A gentle peck to your lips in response leaves you speechless, a soft quirk to his lips as you gape. Collapsing back into his chest you’re left to bask in each other's presence as you take to silently drawing shapes on his stomach, smiling as he giggles from ticklishness. His thumb traces the curves of your hip, digging to the soft flesh of your waist.

A banging on the door makes you both jump out of your skin before Seungkwan’s voice cuts the air. “Come on love birds, dinners ready!”

“If we don’t get up, do you think he’ll go away?” Dokyeom whispers into your hair.

“No.”

On queue the door flies open, smacking against the wall and rebounding into Seungkwan’s face.

“I said it's time for dinner. Now get your asses up!”

“Go away, Boo!” You demand, chucking a pillow in his direction.

“What happened to respecting your elders?” Dokyeom asks, eyes sharp as he tries to kill the younger man with his eyes.

“When my elder does something respectable, I’ll consider it.” Seungkwan claps. “Now chop chop!”

The dinner Seungkwan so adamantly demanded your presence at is a huge pot of spaghetti and some loaves of garlic bread. Nothing overly complex but the bustling atmosphere downstairs is nice, comfortable.

Dokyeom introduces you to some of the fraternity members you haven’t met, as well as their dates. Squished between him and Seungkwan at the dining table, you barely engage in conversation. Not that you need to. They both fill the space with their own joking easily enough.

Instead, your mind focuses on the warmth of Dokyeom’s shoulder brushing yours, and how he rests his arm on the back of your chair once he finishes his plate.

When the mess is cleared away, a few people scurrying off to who knows where, Soonyoung insists on a game of Beerio Kart as dessert. Excited to have a new person to torment, he drags you to the couch before you can object. In a blink, you find yourself wedged between the armrest and Dokyeom as he explains the game.

“The rules are simple my friends! No drinking and driving and you have to finish your drunk before the race ends. If you fail to do so you’ll be publicly shamed.” Soonyoung claps his hands together, the maniacal glint in his eyes a little too intense for such a silly game.

“And for additional chaos,” Seungkwan adds. “I’ve changed it to blue shells only.”

“Now may the best driver win!”

“Alright, the first round is Jun, Marci, Sam, and me.”

“This is gonna be a bloodbath.” Someone calls from the other couch.

And it is. Jun uses height to hold Seungkwan’s drink out of the younger man’s reach, resulting in Seungkwan launching himself from the couch in a flying kick. They’re both so occupied with one another they don’t notice the race is long finished and neither of their characters moved past the starting line.

A chorus of boos rises as the race times out, designating them as 11th and 12th place.

“Alright, next is DK, Y/N, Wonwoo, and myself.”

“Can I forfeit?”

Dokyeom turns to you. “You wanna quit already?”

“Considering my opponents, yes.”

“New rule: no quitting allowed.” Soonyoung interjects.

“You can’t make that a rule!”

“I just did!”

You respond with a thumbs down, much more effective than the middle finger you want to throw his way.

“It’s okay if you’re scared, Y/N.” Wonwoo taunts from across the room.

“I’m not scared!”

“That’s exactly what someone who is scared would say!” Soonyoung chimes in.

Dokyeom just shrugs his shoulders when you look at him for assistance. Figures. He’s part of the reason you don’t want to play. He and his roommate rile each other up too much under normal circumstances, let alone when things get competitive and alcohol is involved.

“Fine, let's play!”

Soonyoung divvies out another round of lukewarm beer cans you’re required to drink as Wonwoo picks the track. N64 Rainbow Road because apparently he’s an asshole. The way he reclines back in his seat confirms it.

To avoid the inevitable mess Dokyeom will make in his haste to chug before the race begins, you stand, shuffling closer to the safe zone at the edge of the coffee table. He tugs at the back of your shirt for a second, prompting you to shake your head.

Dokyeom pouts but stays silent.

“Alright lady and gentlemen! Start. Your. Engines!”

Cracking open your can the second the countdown begins on screen, you gag at the taste of cheap beer as everyone whoops around you. You manage half the can before you have to stop under the threat of it coming back up. Dokyeom and Soonyoung are still drinking, the later shuffling in place restlessly. Wonwoo hasn’t even opened his beer, focusing on getting as far ahead as he can.

Hopefully Seungkwan’s meddling takes care of him.

The race track is chaos as you press your character forward, occasionally blown off course by a blue shell moving to knock out whoever is in first. Half way through the course, you chance a glance at the other corners of the TV. Soonyoung and Dokyeom have finally started lap one, only for Soonyoung to fly over the edge at the first turn and wait to be rescued. Wonwoo is caught in the mess at the front of the pack, only able to maintain first for a fraction of a second before being sniped by a shell.

Once you round the third lap, you take your chance. Stopping in a corner of the track to down the rest of your drink, hoping everyone is too engrossed in the events on screen to see you start moving despite still swallowing a mouth full of beer.

This is when you see Wonwoo make his mistake. He pauses right before the finish line, cracking his can open and nearly choking on the large gulps in his haste. You're gaining quickly, barely a quarter of the last lap remains between your carts. When he finally finishes the can and picks up the controller, you unleash the blue shell you’d been saving. Rosalina goes flying as you sail by, Yoshi claiming fifth place.

“Suck it!” You scream, jumping up and down in victory; joined by Seungkwan who hollers with you as if he won too.

Wonwoo is shell-shocked, literally. He finishes seventh overall, pulling behind another computer character. Soonyoung is on the floor as he and Dokyeom fight for second to last place. The shame goes to Soonyoung as the race times out once again.

When you turn back to the couch you're met with another blinding smile as you drop into his lap.

“Looooooserrrr,” you taunt as you flick his nose gently.

“Yeah whatever.”

“It’s okay, maybe I can teach you sometime.”

He laughs, squeezing you into his chest. “God, you’re annoying.”

“It’s so lonely at the top.” You furrow your brow in mock sorrow.

Another race ensues, more chaos and screaming echoing through the living room. The heat of Dokyeom’s chest sinks through the back of your hoodie, strong plains of muscle shaking as he laughs with the group. When Seungkwan and Soonyoung face each other in a rematch you tempt Dokyeom upstairs, kissing behind his ear before leaning back and giving him the “look.”

The “I-want-your-dick-in-my-mouth” look.

Of which he very is familiar.

Dokyeom lurches forward, eager to appease, forgetting you're still in his lap until your weight knocks him back down. Shaking your head you stand and pull him up behind you, moving towards the stairs uninterrupted as Seungkwan and Soonyoung threaten each other's life and limb behind you.

Tacky wood shiplap digs into your spine uncomfortable as Dokyeom crowds you against the wall. His lips ghost along your jaw, hands on either side of your head to prevent him from crushing you. You don’t have the same concern, pulling him closer with the fabric of his sweater. The door to his room is a few feet to your left but the idea of separating for even a second to make it inside is pure agony.

“What does the winner want for her prize?” he whispers, teeth grazing your earlobe.

“Depends.” You sigh, grinding against the bulge of his thigh.

“On?”

“If my prize is separate from what I get for driving up here.”

Dokyeom nips your chin, dodging your attempt to connect your mouths.

“Depends on what you want.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“I’m gonna do that anyway.”

“I wasn’t done yet.”

He stays silent, teeth bruising the sliver of shoulder peeking out under your collar.

“I want you to fuck me,” cut of with a hiss at his vigor, “and I want to film it.”

Backing out of your neck, Dokyeom blinks at you, mouth wide.

Peeking at him through your eyelashes, you wait for Dokyeom’s brain to restart. His mouth opens and closes, but nothing comes out. Not a rejection or an agreement. Just surprise.

A heaviness curls in your gut. You thought he’d like the idea, especially from his reaction to the pictures you sent last night. And the videos he’s sent over the months you’ve been hooking up. Videos of him jacking off, cumming on his own stomach, your name on his lips. But maybe you assumed too much.

“Ifyoudon’twanttowedon—”

But a scream interrupts your rant as he lifts you by your thighs, ankles locking around the top of his butt and arms tangling around his neck like a koala. You hold on for dear life as he carries you down the hallway.

Palming your ass harshly with one hand, the other scrambles to open the door as he licks up your neck. The door rattles on its hinges as he kicks it shut but the blood rushing through your ears muffles it.

“Yes, yes. Holy shit, yes.” He’s whining into your ear, hips rutting into your core as he lands unceremoniously on the bed, crushing you underneath him.

You’re shocked for a second, woefully unprepared for his enthusiasm. But another harsh rush against you, coupled with his hands pawing up your shirt to palm your chest makes you bold.

Two things you know to be true about Dokyeom:

First, he has a ragging praise kink. If you tell him he’s a good boy, he can come almost untouched.

Second, he loves the sight of his cum streaking across your body.

He was right to say he’ll enjoy this as much as you will.

“Yeah? Wanna come on my face?”

Another pathetic whine against your neck as he keeps curling his clothed cock against you. All of his weight settles between your hips as drives you to madness.

“Then go lock the door.”

#svthub #lee seokmin #lee seokmin x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt #dokyeom #seokmin x reader #seokmin smut #dokyeom x reader #dokyeom smut #🫡 highvern

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youcouldmakealife · 9 days

Note

Could you explain the concept of masking, especially in the context of the last SAIT? I'm not really familiar with this concept - as far as I understood it, it means that neurodivergent people "pretend" (for lack of better word) to behave more in a way that they would consider neurotypical? What did Robbie mean when he compared Georgie and Finn - that they are both hiding something? Georgie isn't neurodivergent - or is he?

Happy to!

I'm just going to preface that while I've read up a lot on this in the past few years, I'm obviously not an expert, and this is my own personal take on the information I've gathered rather than any 'official' definition of the term.

I'm going to talk about how masking applies to a few of my characters in a post I'll link here, because it's already long enough.

Masking is most often used to describe a particular set of behaviours by some neurodivergent people; it can also be described as 'camouflaging', which I think is a useful way to highlight that the biggest part of this behaviour is to get through social interactions safely.

Safety can be literal physical safety, but it can also be without someone getting upset at you, or being mocked or criticised. This is especially difficult if you're not sure what exactly leads to criticism, or mockery, or offence, or why -- a lot of ND masks involve being very, very quiet, because in the past, honest behaviour and speech has lead to Repercussions.

Speech and social behaviour aren't the only things involved in masking: most high masking autistic people don't stim in public, for example, or will replace big, noticeable stims (rocking, flapping the arms or hands, auditory stimming like repeating words or sounds) with more 'socially acceptable' stims, like hair twirling, repeated throat clearing, and non-disruptive fidgeting, often because they punished for the original behaviours.

This can also apply to other ND 'coded' behaviours, like interest in things that are deemed weird or inappropriate or not for their age group, a flat affect (a monotone voice, expressionless face, or little body language), 'blunt' speech, interrupting others or monologuing, and other 'inappropriate' behaviours.

In the case of masking with neurodivergent individuals, it's a behaviour that sort of...imperfectly replaces the 'sense' that neurotypical individuals get from conversations. The mostly unconscious things that neurotypical people can pick up from non-verbal indicators like body language and tone do not come innately to neurodivergent people.

I should note here how important the word 'innately' is. A ton of neurodivergent people are capable of picking up those things, and some are even more sensitive than the average neurotypical person to them -- some are even hypervigilant, particularly if they needed to be for their personal safety -- but this is a learned set of skills that require energy and active effort to implement, even if the ND person is not consciously aware of that.

Basically, it's a program running constantly in social situations, and, like any constantly running program, it drains the hell out of the battery. An ND person will be drained by masked social interaction no matter how enjoyable the people or extroverted the person, because it involves constant monitoring and adjustment if the monitoring notes that something's off.

But I think it's really important to note that everybody masks to some extent. Two people are having a lovely chat in front of you and then one of them privately says 'I hate that bitch' right after the other person leaves? They were masking. Smiling at your boss even though he just piled a month's worth of work on your desk? Masking. Being very polite to the man aggressively hitting on you because he's setting off alarm bells? Masking. Saying 'I'm good thanks' when someone asks how you are, even though your day sucked? Masking.

Masking is fundamentally behaviour that does not match the authentic reactions and feelings of a person.

And it's not inherently a bad thing! At least in small doses. It's actually hard to say sometimes where the line between 'being polite and behaving in a socially acceptable' becomes masking. I think the biggest difference is that for neurotypical people, it's a conscious behaviour used in specific scenarios. For neurodivergent people, it's that program running constantly in the background. And it's not just used in specific situations -- it's almost all the time.

Many ND people are only unmasked when alone, or with individuals they trust not to use their unmasked identity against them. This can include family, friends, partners, or fellow neurodivergent people they're not necessarily close to, or even friends with, but also don't feel they have to monitor themselves in the same way with. Many people have at least one person they're comfortable being around unmasked. They may not use that term, but they may speak of someone 'not draining their battery' or 'people are hard to talk to, but you're different', etc. It's because they're not socially performing with that individual.

It's also important to note that this isn't ND people 'tricking' others in social situations like a socially manipulative person might. It's a survival mechanism that develops as a result of the 'real' (unmasked) behaviours leading to consequences in their past. It's a response to being criticised, yelled at, mocked, etc, by parents, teachers, peers, etc for authentic behaviour. For that reason, you can also see masking in neurotypical people with CPTSD. Again, it's not to trick anyone. It's to remain safe -- physically and emotionally.

I should also note that masking isn't universal among ND individuals -- it's more common among those with low support needs, and those AFAB, who were expected to comply more closely to social norms than those AMAB. You'll also find it a lot in those, like me, who weren't diagnosed until adulthood, because, well -- masking, by its very definition, makes it harder to notice someone's neurodivergence.

I've been making efforts to unmask since my diagnosis, and have since realised I did not understand the extent I was masking, nor the extent it was draining me, until I stopped masking most of the time. This is common for a lot of ND individuals.

That's important because it's hard to stop doing a behaviour that isn't wholly intentional, and it's even harder to realise how much it's hurting you. The strongest correlation they found between autistic individuals and autistic burnout is masking. It's also the biggest correlation between autistic individuals and suicide. It, like many coping mechanisms common to ND individuals (addiction is much more common in ND individuals than the general population, especially for those with ADHD) can possibly be helpful in the short term, but it's extremely harmful to the individual in the long term.

So just. For my ND readers. Please be aware of that. It can be genuinely helpful, and protective. I personally still use it in certain situations, and when I do not, I am more likely to make a social 'blunder'. But the difference in my mental health pre-and-post unmasking is immense. The more you wear the mask, the more you think that mask is you, but it isn't. And you cannot properly care for yourself if you don't actually know who you are.

#the author talks about herself sometimes

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lightlycareless · 17 days

Text

Don't mind me, I'm just posting a little something that I had in mind, a continuation of Naoya's and Y/N's many HS adventures :) in other words, their first official Valentine's Day.

warnings: fluff. a tiny small hint of smut, implied by someone else. please read this part first followed by this other one to get the full picture!! and I guess this too.

Happy reading :)

Your first valentine’s day with Naoya—like, the actual one and not the fiasco that transpired last year—is one that has you very excited. And how couldn’t you?! Naoya had been very… enigmatic when preparing you for today.

“Clear out your schedule after school, princess. All the way down to the weekend.”

“Huh? Why?” you ask, feigning ignorance—as if you weren’t waiting for this exact moment since you started dating him. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know, guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

But you couldn’t wait! Not at all! In fact, such was your excitement that you could barely get any sleep— it was a miracle that you managed to get a few hours of rest before eagerly jumping out of bed, getting ready, and subsequently making your way to class while fervently imagining all the surprises Naoya had in store for you.

Well, whatever it was, there was no doubt in your mind that it would be much better than whatever your classmates discussed—glad that you no longer felt out of the conversation, not entirely that is, for you still had to figure out what your boyfriend was planning…

Thankfully, it wouldn’t take long for you to see the first details of his extensive itinerary, much to your eventual embarrassment.

It would begin with the so-called cupid’s mail service, a way for the student council to take advantage of help couples who wished to send gifts to their significant other’s while raising funds for whatever expenses they might have—such as graduation costs, school trips, so on and so forth.

Last year you were undoubtedly upset for not being sent anything throughout the day, so this time around, Naoya made it his personal mission to not let that happen again, under any circumstance!

And what extravagant way to assure so.

“Senseeeeei, can you give us a moment to deliver the mail?”

Teachers were no strangers to the excessive ways enamored students got to be when prompted—however, none of them had experienced a besotted Naoya, an heir with all possibilities within his grasp motivated to impress his beloved.

“Sure, go ahead.” The sensei responded, barely glancing at the mountain of gifts that made him assume they’d be here for a long time and returning to the blackboard; readying whatever subject followed to retake class once they were gone.

However, as soon as he began his attention would be forced back onto the students the moment they collectively gasped, realizing that the gifts didn’t pertain to various senders, no. Only one—and with a sole receiver too: you.

“All this for you, Y/N, how lucky!” Mei Mei says while placing down a large bouquet of red roses on your desk. “To think that last year you didn’t get a single thing until the very end… you truly are one fortunate girl.”

“Is this—is this really all for me?” You murmur, still in disbelief that Naoya had gone above and beyond with his gifts—but isn’t he always like this, though?

“Oh, this is just for the first class, your beloved boyfriend scheduled more for later.”

“Wh—what?” you breathe, turning even redder, comparable to the roses in front of you. Mei Mei chuckles at the curious sight. “M—more?”

“Don’t forget the note.” she says, plucking an envelope from the bouquet and handing it over to you. “Now, say cheese~”

“Huh, what now?” You stammer, then startled by the bright flash of her cellphone, recollecting the so-called proof Naoya demanded of the goods being delivered—he didn’t want to risk being played the same card he applied last year, this was only a necessary request.

“Well, my job here is done. Have a nice Valentine’s Day, Y/N; Naoya sure is expecting you to have one.”

…

“Need another desk?” The teacher would suggest after seeing you awkwardly trying to continue with your work through all the items cluttering your counter.

“…yes, please.”

And as Mei Mei promised, more gifts came soon after—from expensive boxes of chocolate from brands you’ve never even heard of in your life, to jewelry and other things you once mentioned wanting before: like a new case for your phone, a cute shirt you saw at the mall (with an additional gift card of a exuberant amount in it if you wished more) and of course, all the mochi you could eat.

Everyone around you wouldn’t take long to begin murmuring about your situation, commenting on how they never expected Naoya to be so passionate about his girlfriend—or anything that wasn’t berating others!

Yet, here he was, spoiling you with all things unimaginable, and that was barely to be the tip of the iceberg.

“Well, at least Naoya had the decency to help you move all these things to your dorm” Shoko commented as she watched the group of students Mei Mei ordered to relocate all of your gifts, work. “Don’t think you would’ve been able to do all that by yourself.”

“No, I wouldn’t.” you breathe, still embarrassed by all that transpired. Being the center of attention is something you never handled well, and more often than not, you tried to pass under the radar.

And yet, as much as you disliked it, it was impossible for you to not enjoy it this time around, for it came from something so sweet as your boyfriend wanting to show his ever-growing adoration for you.

“All this is so excessive, Y/N. I can’t help but wonder what you gave him to evoke all this?”

“I don’t recall anything in particular… I just gave him some chocolates I made.” You murmur, Shoko chuckles. “What?”

“It’s ok, no need to act coy with me. I just know you must’ve given it to him real good.”

“Oh. My. God. Shoko!” you gasp, eyes wide as your friend added onto your embarrassment. Just what you needed!

“Ugh, that is so gross.” Satoru would scowl; the only reason why he was around was to check if the rumors were true, see if Naoya had truly become even more unhinged in the name of love. “I would never do anything like that for a woman.”

“Mmm… maybe not for a woman; but what about a man?” Shoko teases, Gojo quickly becomes flustered, doing what many couldn’t: silence him. “That’s what I thought.”

“Whatever… at least I’m not the one being humiliated—look.” Satoru would then nudge to the person standing by the end of the hallway—a nervous Naoya waiting for you while holding another bouquet of flowers, this time purple roses accompanied by a small Gengar plush in the middle; a sight that has you freezing on the spot, overwhelmed by his seemingly endless gestures of appreciation and all those that were to come.

“We’ll leave you two alone.” Shoko says, grabbing Satoru by the arm and pulling him away. “Have fun!”

“Thanks, Shoko.” You murmur before shyly making your way towards your boyfriend, staring at him for a few seconds, finding the right words to say before settling for a simple greeting. “He—Hey, Naoya…”

“Hello, princess.” Naoya manages to say through the tightness of his throat, excited to see you after a long day of schoolwork, and worried that you might’ve not liked his gifts.

That, of course, is something that wouldn’t perturb him much longer after seeing the way you happily received the flowers from his grasp, a wider smile on your lips as you relished their smell and decoration.

“Did you like your gifts?” He asks, placing his arm around your waist and pulling you closer; your heart skips a beat as you lean into him.

“Ye—yeah… I liked all of them.” You admit with a nod. “They were… really nice. Thank you.”

“I wanted to make it up to you, for the shame I put you through last year.”

“Oh, Naoya—don’t say that.” You fret, wanting to leave that in the past. “It was nothing but a misunderstanding…”

“I still made you feel bad, and that is something I will never forgive myself for.”

“Well, if you must know… today succeed all Valentine’s days I’ve ever had.” You happily declare, much to Naoya’s unexpected concern.

“I fear I might’ve shoot myself on the foot, then.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve set the bar too high, I’m not sure if I’ll be capable of surprising you next year.”

“Just spending the day with you is enough for me.” You gently reassure, making Naoya’s heart melt.

“Then I think what I have planned next might be of your liking.”

“Wait, you have more?”

“I did ask you to clear out your schedule for the rest of the week, didn’t I?” Naoya teases,

“Yes…”

He then reaches for his pocket to take out a set of two tickets—the biggest surprise yet.

“I got us a reservation to visit that park you wanted to go to—Disneyland, I believe? From the accommodations to the transportation, I’ve taken care of everything, all my pretty princess needs to do is be ready by—wait, Y/N? Y/N!”

You don’t remember much after that, outside of an overwhelming shock and happiness that deafened and blinded your senses, leading you to assume that you simply… passed out.

#naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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khunyuki · 3 months

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"I've lived my life with blade and you always in my mind"

ꜱɪᴅᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ: 𝚌. 𝚆𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚎?

Synopsis: After their very first mission as Defense Force Officers, Kagami and Soshiro promised to take care of each other when they got injured. That means taking the entire day/week off just to nurse them back to health. A few years have passed since then without any significant injuries, that's why it came as a surprise to Kagami when a certain someone came knocking at the First Division's front doors.

Pairing/s: Hoshina Soshiro x Fiancee!OC

Note/s: I'm posting this first cuz jealousy, jealousy was hard to write hahaha. It might take long but i'll definitely be posting that later tonight. Don't worry cuz reading this first doesn't affect anything hehe. Also, I changed the synopsis so readers won't be confused hehe. Enjoy <3

Genre: Fluff

Masterlist: TOC, Previous, Next

A few years back, when Kagami and Soshiro were still in the same division, they made a promise to each other.

"You were pretty reckless"

Kagami scolded the purple haired guy laying on the hospital bed with a bandages on his legs. Her words, heavily laced with concern.

"I could say the same with you"

Soshiro side eyed the black haired girl who was laying on the hospital bed besides his own. Her injuries were as bad as his, with the bandages on her head instead of her legs.

Kagami just averted his gaze, focusing instead on the fruits basket placed atop the drawer besides them. She picked up an apple, along with a small knife and plate, and started cutting it.

Soshiro could only sigh at his fiancee's evasiveness, though it did bring back the smile on his face. It wasn't unusual for them to be injured during a mission given their line of work. Most of the time, they'll get a few minor scratches here and there but not enough to guarantee a hospital stay. He was glad she only required a few stitches and that there weren't any lasting effects to her head.

"That, I want mine cut into bunnies"

Soshiro noticed that she finished cutting and requested for her to style it into bunnies. Without question, she did just that. He watched as she struggled to peel only the skin and not the flesh, laughing when she failed to do so.

"It's not funny"

Kagami complained with a pout, knowing full well that her struggling gives him joy. She once again heard his chuckle as she successfully massacred another slice. She looked at the mess in front of her and frowned. Cutting things was easy but peeling them was harder, especially if it's as small as this apple.

She can't complain though, this was one of her duties as his future wife. She's been practicing for this her whole life yet continued to fail over and over again. It didn't mean she'll give up as she uses her failure as her drive to do better.

"Want me to do it?"

Soshiro offered his help, still smiling in amusement as she shook her head no. Every little things she does brings a smile on his face, even something as small as failing to peel an apple properly. He'd find her words and actions as funny no matter how she thinks it isn't. Her reactions are so amusing to him, causing him to not stop trying to tease her.

Thank goodness she was skilled enough not to cut her fingers though or else he would've snatched that knife faster than she could react. No way he'd allow her to be hurt on his watch. It was already unfortunate enough for them to be in different squads thus resulting in their current situation, had he known he would've done better.

"I'm done"

Kagami declared and ate the massacred apple slices by herself.

"Wait, wait! I thought that was for me?"

Soshiro tried to stop her from eating it all and not leaving some for him.

"It was... but it's ugly so I can't give it to you"

Kagami was kinda upset she didn't get to make apple bunnies properly so she decided to eat it as to not waste food.

"Feed it to me"

Soshiro, in all seriousness with open eyes, demanded she stop and feed it all to him. No way he's letting all her hard work go to waste. She cut and peeled it for him so he'll eat it no matter what.

"W-what?"

Kagami was surprised at his sudden demand. She couldn't resist him, especially not when he opens his eyes to show her how serious he is.

"I said feed it to me~"

With a mischevious grin, he was back to his foxy attitude. He opened his mouth in an 'ahhh', showcasing his want to be fed.

"Y-you can do it yourself!"

Flustered, Kagami tried to look away. Offering him the entire plate so he could eat by himself.

"But my legs are injured and I can't move"

His eyes were closed but how was it possible to see him making puppy eyes at her? Paired with that pout, a fox like him acted like a sad dog.

"You can move your hands though"

Resist. Resist the temptations Kagami! Do not move your hands! Stop moving your hands!

"Ahhh~"

Opening his mouth, Soshiro was successfully fed by the red faced Kagami. His purple eyes bore holes into Kagami's own as he teasingly licked his own lips as an expression.

"Yum~"

Uzui Kagami.exe has stopped working.

"Excuse me but can you do your flirting elsewhere? The rest of us wants to sleep in peace"

A random officer mustered his courage to speak up. He tried to hide his flustered face by pretending to cough. The rest of the officer were looking away from them, red in the face, yet still nodded in agreement.

Kagami dropped the plate she was holding and teleported inside the blankets of her own bed. The plate of apples was fortunately caught by cackling Soshiro who was well aware of their audience.

Nobody said they were the only ones in the room hehe.

"Kagami? Why are you still here?"

Kagami, who was discharged yesterday, came back the next day to take care of her fiance.

"I took a day off"

"Why?"

Surprised by her actions, Soshiro couldn't help by ask why she would specifically ask for a day off when she's never done so before. Also, he was supposed to be discharged later today.

"I want to take care of you... because you're my fiancee"

"Then next time, I'll be the one to take care of you"

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~

Whenever Soshiro visits the hospital, he thinks of that moment fondly. When they were still rookies, they would sometimes end up getting injured thus resulted in taking care of each other. Now that they were a bit more experienced, they no longer had to take care of each other in the hospital. It was better that way as it signifies that they were healthy and safe.

Still, as he reads the newspaper on his hospital bed, he couldn't help but let his mind wander in his wish to have his fiancee be there to take care of him. It was fine though, cause he didn't know how to break the news of him moving to the Third Division to her just yet. Also, he never really told her he got injured during his visit there.

When Captain Ashiro and Platoon Leader Ebina visited him earlier, he thought it was her. He was a bit disappointed but the offer they brought was enough to lift his spirits. He'd been wanting this for a long time. Someone who recognizes his efforts and need his strength. Somewhere he would be needed and not be treated like a tumor.

Kagami had always been by his side, supporting him, and finally there was someone else who believes in him like her. He wants her to join him there so they could leave the past and look forward.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and a familiar head peek inside. Soshiro saw the face of the person he'd been expecting to see the whole time. His heart fluttered when he saw her after thinking about her like he manifested her visit.

"I'm sorry I'm late. There was a long line at the cafe so it took a bit too long to buy this"

She headed inside and showed him something she was hiding on her back. In her hands was a small box with a dessert inside.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Yeah. Mont Blanc!"

Kagami mirrored his excitement and confirmed his thoughts. She immediately prepared it for him, getting a plate and taking the dessert out of the box. She carefully placed it so as to not destroy its looks and offered it to him, which he accepted gratefully.

"By the way, I saw Captain Ashiro exiting the hospital earlier. Who do you think she visited here?"

Once she passed him the dessert, she took a seat at the chair beside him. He also took a bite before answering.

"Oh that, Remember how I went to the Third Division for a meeting? This and that happened and Captain Ashiro asked me to join the Third Division"

Soshiro recounted the story of what happened as soon as he got to the Third Division, the sudden appearance of a kaiju and how he helped with it, how he saved that kid and them being saved by Captain Mina, then the lastly, the offer given to him by the captain. Kagami attentively listened to his tales, reacting appropriately during significant parts. Soshiro greatly appreciates her lending an ear.

"Oh really? What was your answer?"

Finally, Kagami asked him what his answer to the offer was. It was something he had to prepare himself first before telling her as it was a big decision.

"I said yes"

Soshiro was filled with certainty at his decision. He didn't know how she'd react but he wanted to ask her to be with him as he moved too.

"Kagami, do you--"

Soshiro was cut off by an excited Kagami.

"Congrats! That's amazing! I knew there would be someone else who will recognize how great you are! I didn't think it would be THE Captain Ashiro Mina herself!"

She was so hyped up, so happy for him that he couldn't help but chuckle fondly. The tension he felt earlier disappeared and was replaced by fondness, feeling incredibly light.

"I'm sad that you'll be leaving but this is your chance to show the people from our division that they never should've underestimated you"

Her smile dropped once she thought that him moving was him leaving her alone. But still, she was smiling.

"Do you want to come with me? Captain Ashiro said her offer extends to you, as well"

Soshiro with greater courage now, seeing her smile drop, wanted to lift her spirits up. If he's moving to a better place, he wanted her to come with him too. At least they'll be together and won't be sad.

"Ehh? Really?? She's offering me to join the Third Division too???"

Surprised, Kagami couldn't believe her ears. Even her eyes as he nodded to affirm her words were true.

"Yeah, so what do you say?"

Soshiro turned back to his Mont Blanc to finally finish it as there only a few bites left. In doing so, he couldn't notice the storm brewing in Kagami's eyes.

"I'm sorry but I will have to decline"

Soshiro almost choked at her flat-out refusal. She offered him water in which he gratefully drank. He didn't think she'd refuse him like this. Sure she'd have doubts but usually she's agree with him.

"Why?"

Kagami took her time to answer and Soshiro found it hard to read her in that moment. Just when he started to think that something might be wrong, she looked him in the eyes with a determined expression.

"I also want to be recognized by my skills and not just because of goodwill. I want to prove myself to her so she'd be the one asking me to join herself"

While he didn't think she'd refuse him earlier, her explanation made a lot of sense. He'd refuse her too if it was him in her position. He only got this far because she and he believed in himself. They've both been doing their best to be the best version of themselves hoping someone will notice their efforts. So he wanted to believe she can do the same too.

"If it's you, I know you can do it"

Filled with the confidence that she shared with him, he ruffled her hair as they shared a hearty laugh.

They spent the entire day with each other. Kagami taking care of him until it was time to leave and Soshiro not wanting her to leave at all cuz he's such a baby when it comes to her. He didn't have to worry though cuz her days off lasted until he got better.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~

True to her words, Kagami finally got someone else to see just what she is made of. While it may not be the captain of the Third Division that she caught the eye of, it was still a significant someone. That someone being the previous captain of the First Division and now the Director General of the Defense Force, Shinomiya Isao. It took a long time but she was finally there.

It wasn't an exaggeration to say that being in the First Division was hard. With everyone exceeding expectations by being capable of eliminating honjus on their own, the stakes are really high. Especially for a recently promoted Platoon Leader like Kagami, who didn't know just when she'll be kicked out. She wonders why she got promoted at all despite there people being stronger than her in the First Division.

It also wasn't an exaggeration that the kaijus appearing near the Ariake Maritime Base were stronger than most. So when the new recruits in her squad finally had their first mission, she had to be more alert than ever. Cuz new recruits are prone to danger, like the one she just saved from accidentally killing himself. Unfortunately for her, being around danger means she's also prone to getting injured.

"I'm really sorry, Platoon Leader Uzui!"

The new recruit she saved once again bowed down in front of her. He was the reason her left arm is in a cast, letting it heal naturally. It was an accident where a hidden yoju suddenly appeared catching them off guard. Kagami chose to prioritize her subordinate's safety than hers which lead to the current situation.

The application of using the regenerative ability of the kaijus in medical treatments was still being researched and is currently in its experimental stages, thus making it exclusive only to Defense Force higher ups.

Being a Platoon Leader, Kagami was lucky enough to be able to take part in it. Instead of suffering from a mangled arm requiring surgery, the treatment made it possible for her arm to heal quickly by mending her broken bones. In the end, it is still required for her to heal naturally and not move it much.

"Don't worry about it. I'm just glad you're safe. I don't want my subordinates to get hurt under my watch"

Kagami reassured the officer in front of her by placing her right hand on his arm. The officer was overwhelmed by the kindness she's showing that caused him to be emotional.

"Platoon Leader..."

"If you're really sorry, make sure you work hard to get stronger from now on"

Knowing what she said wasn't enough to remove his guilt, she encouraged him to be better.

"Yes, ma'am!"

The soldier saluted and finally left her alone. Kagami was about to leave as well when Vice Captain Hasegawa approached her. She greeted him with a salute and he nodded in return.

"You are as kind as ever, Platoon Leader Kagami. I know you want to save as many people as possible but you should not sabotage your health"

He complimented her, referencing about her interaction with an officer. He also scolded her for getting injured badly in concern.

"My apologies, sir. Umm... Is there something wrong? Is Captain Narumi causing trouble again?"

She gave a sheepish smile knowing she'll do it again if it mean saving someone. Though she couldn't help but noticed the troubled expression on his face which only means one thing: Captain Narumi.

"Somewhat. It has something to do with your visitor"

"Eh?"

Captain Narumi was causing trouble because of her visitor? But she wasn't expecting anyone to come visit her? Also, she didn't understand why the Vice Captain himself would tell her the news.

"You'll understand soon enough. Follow me"

Noticing her confusion, Vice Captain Hasegawa led her to where Captain Narumi and her visitor were.

As they got closer to the meeting room, she could hear Captain Narumi's boisterous voice. It was so loud that she didn't have to strain her ears to know that it was him. And there was also a familiar laughter coming inside the room. There's no way...

When Vice Captain Hasegawa opened the door for them to enter, she finally understood why Captain Narumi was reacting that way. Her fiancee, Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro, was sitting in front of her Captain. His smug smile and foxy expression was clear enough for her to know that he's been teasing the guy the whole time.

"Vice Captain Hoshina?"

"Ahhh, you're here?"

Soshiro averted his gaze at his self-proclaimed rival to look at his fiancee, pointedly staring at her casted arm. His smile, straining a little bit with a frown.

"Today, I am here to request that Platoon Leader Uzui Kagami take a day off from work while she heals"

He finally revealed his intentions after seeing the two sitting down. Captain Narumi and Vice Captain Hasegawa were shocked at his request. They were expecting something else and didn't stop to think of such an absurd reason.

"Haaaa??? Who are you to ask for that with my Platoon Leader, haaa??"

Captain Narumi, having composed himself first grew more irritated. How could his rival talk for his Platoon Leader like that? His friend has a mind of her own and can request to rest by herself. He knew she was injured and wanted her to rest himself but having his rival demand that bring a bad taste to his mouth. It's not like he's forcing him to work, damn it.

"I'll say it in word you can understand. My fiancee is hurt and I demand you let her rest"

Fiancee?? They turned their heads to look at the blushing woman, embarrassed for being the source of this mess and the attention she's getting.

"Don't tell me you specifically came here just to ask that?"

She tried to compose herself by looking his way. Surely that wasn't the sole reason he came here?

"Of course, you wouldn't do so otherwise. Ah don't worry, I got permission to leave from Captain Ashiro so I could take care of you"

That's it. That's the end of her. How could he say such things so calmly in front of her superiors? She's sure as hell this would reach the ears of the whole division and they would not let her live it down. She couldn't even hide her face cause her free hand is too small to cover it.

"I have paperwork"

"That's fine. You can just bring it home and I'll help you"

Kagami can't do this anymore. Her superiors are digging holes into her and her fiancee's finds it too amusing to help her.

"Captain, Vice Captain, can I request for a leave until I heal enough to get back to work?"

Kagami asked for permission herself, trying to save herself despite it being a futile attempt. There's no stopping Soshiro when he's this stubborn.

"I'll grant you paid leave"

Vice Captain Hasegawa felt pity for his subordinate, who clearly want to bury herself in a hole, thus granting her wish.

"Thank you, sir"

Kagami stood up as fast as she could and left to go to her room. She ignore the curious glances thrown her way by confused onlookers, who rarely get to see her running and flustered.

Soshiro who was left inside the room stared at his rival, who was uncharacteristically quiet. He felt pity and at the same time doesn't for he knows what the male in front of him feels for his fiancee.

His phone vibrated indicating that he received a message.

"I'm heading down soon. Meet me at the lobby. Also, please stop torturing my Captain"

"Well then, i guess I'll have to leave now too"

Soshiro stood up and said his goodbyes and thanks as he pocketed his phone. He's looking forward to the spending the rest of the day, and the days after that with his fiancee.

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#kaiju no.8 #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro x oc #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader #soshiro hoshina x oc #yukikhun

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buckyseddie · 1 year

Text

always hold you

pairings — tasm!peter parker x bff/gf!fem!reader

summary — in which, she needs her boyfriend's support more than anything else, after another particularly bad fight with her father.

word count — 2.6k.

warnings — a little bit of angst, use of pet-names [dove, sweetheart, darling, love, bug], reader calls peter pete, lots of fluff and this is basically just a hurt/comfort fic, protective/soft!peter, this is also sort of similar to my other peter fic (take as a part two that one), peter comforting reader, mentions of the reader's low self-esteem issues and it being explained a bit more, both physical and emotional abuse (manipulation and gaslighting, but not from peter), hugs and cuddles, forehead kisses, peter just taking care of the reader and showing her the love that her family refuses to do, gwen is in here for a second and being the comforting platonic best friend that she is to reader, peter comes off as a little harsh and scares reader a little bit but he makes up for it in the end.

notes — hi! so, this is really more of a vent fic. i know i've written in the past about dealing w/ a toxic family member and how i really enjoyed writing fics similar to my experiences with my favorite comfort characters to comfort the reader because that would usually help me deal with everything. but recently, the abuse that me, my mom, and my brother have been experiencing has become a lot more complicated and traumatizing for me to deal with. and things have only gotten worse. so, i figured i'd do another comforting fic like the other peter fic i wrote about going through that said abuse. i really just feel that it's important to not hide my true feelings and act like everything's fine behind a screen and i just want to be able to talk about this topic a lot more (especially in my writing), because it's so serious and not nearly talked about enough. but, nonetheless, if there's anyone out there that sees this and is a victim of abuse (whether it's emotional/mental or physical abuse, or both) please don't feel obligated to read this. i really don't want to trigger or upset anyone who's dealing with this situation in a very heavy and overwhelming way. just remember though, no matter what anyone says or does to you, you ARE strong and deserve the entire world. i love you all <3. anyways, i hope this makes up for the lack of posting anything (i've been really struggling with a lot, but i'm trying!). gif and divider creds to owner!

p.s., feedback is very much encouraged and appreciated <3.

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IT'S OBVIOUS NOW THAT SHE was stupid to think that he could change. it was even more stupid of her to go back to that apartment.

but, she's always been one to see the best in people — in her case, it's come to bite her in the ass.

even now, as she awaits her boyfriend to return home from his nightly patrol around the city, [y/n] knows that she should've known better.

she trembles as she sits on their shared bed, one of her legs bouncing anxiously — the thought of how peter will react to her foolish decision and the outcome from it is stressing her out, beyond words.

after how he responded the first time he found out about the truth about her father's cruelty and what she'd had to go through, she's worried of how he will react this time — it took almost everything in him to not confront her father, when he first found out.

she abruptly jumps when she hears the front door of the apartment shut softly.

a shaky breath leaves her lips, wondering if it's too late to try to hide the marks on her face and body.

but, when she hears him call out her name from the living room, she knows that it's too late — there's nothing she can do now to hide this.

and even if she wanted to for a split second, she promised peter she'd never lie to him again — after the last time, they promised each other that they'd never hide anything from the other again.

so, with another shaky breath, [y/n] sighs and hesitantly pulls the bedroom door open.

she keeps her head down, her hair falling around her face and covering the marks as she walks out and into the living room.

"sweetheart..." peter's voice trails off, eyes wide with shock and worry.

her breath catches in her throat as soon as she finally looks up at her boyfriend and sees the intense, protective look in his eyes.

"i—i'm sorry, peter." she whispers, voice too raspy to get any louder.

a flash of anger fills his eyes. "please... tell me that you didn't go back to him!" he exclaims in a quieter tone of voice as he pinches the corner of his eyes.

[y/n] flinches at the amount of frustration in his voice.

"peter, i—i'm sorry... " her voice trembles, guilt and regret quickly filling her — she just feels so stupid.

peter sighs, regretting taking his anger out on her.

his eyes immediately soften. "sweetheart, i'm sorry." he murmurs, before starting to walk over to her.

but, before he can reach her, she flinches and winces.

he stops short, freezing in place. more guilt fills him as he realizes that in this moment, she's scared of him.

"look... i—i know that i shouldn't have gone back," she whispers, tears clouding her eyes as she remembers the anger and hatred in her father's eyes.

peter's silent for a moment, waiting and giving her time to explain more — if she's able to.

"i'm... i'm so stupid, peter." she whispers, too ashamed to talk any louder.

peter's eyes widen in shock, not expecting that statement to come out of her mouth. "w—what? darling, that's not true."

this time, a tear falls down her cheek. "yes, i am. peter, who's stupid enough to choose to believe that their abusive, monster-of-a-father can change? me — it's me!"

the rambling and the self-loathing words coming out of his girlfriend's mouth becomes incredibly clear to peter as he walks over to her.

this time now, he doesn't hesitate to pull her into his chest as her voice becomes more trembling and wavering, "this is on me — it's my fault."

"it's okay now, love. don't blame yourself." he murmurs as she stops holding herself back and breaks into breathless sobs into his chest.

after a while, her crying slows and quiets down with her tears now dried on her cheeks.

she faces him and takes in a deep, calming breath as he wipes away the remaining tears away and looks over her bruises more intensely.

"i wanna kill him for doing this to you — again." the venom in his tone sends shivers through her spine — knowing what he would do to protect her comforts her.

but, on the other hand, she also knows that hurting her father isn't going to do anything for them or fix anything.

"no, peter. i know you don't mean that." she murmurs seriously.

an angry frown places itself over his lips. "no, i do."

she sighs. "okay, maybe you do. but, it won't fix anything and we both know that," she says, moving one of her fingers up to smooth out the crease in between his very furrowed eyebrows.

"it's okay now — i'm okay." she whispers seriously, grabbing his hand and rubbing soothing circles over his thumb.

you'd think from how she's comforting him that peter was the one that got hurt, not her — that's just how she is; she always finds herself taking care of everyone else, when she really should be taking care of herself.

maybe that's why they're such a good pair — while they're taking care of everyone else and their loved ones, they can trust the other to take care of the other.

"that's the thing, love. it's not okay! you shouldn't have to go out of your way to avoid him, just to protect yourself." he exclaims, ripping his hand out of hers and this time pacing around the living room with his hand now gripping his hair in frustration.

she sighs, frowning — this is exactly why she didn't want to tell him because she hates worrying him like this.

"it may not be fair, but if it's what i have to do to protect myself, then that's what i'll do — i should've kept doing that, instead of being an idiot to believe he'd change." she admits, shrugging, trying to play this all off, as if it's not that big of a deal.

"don't say that — don't do that!" he abruptly yells, turning around to face her defensively.

she flinches — once again — at the volume of his voice. "don't do what?" she asks meekly, her voice too soft.

he sighs in regret. "i'm sorry. i'm not trying to scare you." his eyes are downcast at the floor, before he looks up again, the guilt clear in his irises this time.

"it's okay, peter." she gulps, berating herself for some part of her being afraid of him — after all, she has no reason to fear him because he'd never intentionally hurt her.

"it's not. i shouldn't have gotten so angry — i'm not mad at you, i promise," he says in a much more quiet voice, sighing as he sees that look in her eyes — the one that she always has when she feels like a burden and feels like she should be apologizing.

"sweetheart, don't even think about apologizing. none of this is your fault."

[y/n] sighs in exasperation. "maybe it is. i'm the one that is always making a fool out of myself by believing in the best of everyone."

she sighs when a flash of irritation shows in his eyes. "what?" he whispers, his eyebrows furrowing together.

she takes in another breath when he walks over to her and hesitantly places his hands over her cheeks.

[y/n] sighs again.

"this isn't your fault, love. know that," he murmurs, his eyes searching hers for some kind of understanding. "please, tell me that you know that."

she sighs again, noticing the tears filling his eyes — it becomes incredibly clear to her how much the man in front of her cares about her.

"peter... " her own eyes fill with tears, even spilling to her cheeks.

without another thought, he gently wipes away her tears. "promise me that you understand me."

she sighs again. "y—yes, i understand," she murmurs, hating the hope that fills his eyes. "but, i just don't believe it."

he opens his mouth to object, but she interrupts him before he has the chance to say something, "i want to. but, i can't just shut off the way i feel — i was raised the way i was and with the trauma i have gotten along the way, i can't just forget it."

more tears fills his eyes, before he moves incredibly closer to her and brings her close to kiss her forehead. "knowing you want to believe it is good enough for me."

when he pulls away from her he smiles warmly at her. "let's go cuddle now, yeah?"

the softness in his voice makes her smile. "sounds like a plan, pete." she murmurs with a nod and leads him to their shared room.

once they're inside of their bedroom, [y/n] walks over to their shared bathroom, to change into her set of pajamas she set aside earlier in the day, after she had just gotten back from her father's home — she used to call it her home, but that all changed once her once-very-close relationship with her father changed.

after she changes and brushes her hair and teeth, she takes in a deep breath and tries to mentally prepare herself for the rest of the night.

but, when she shuts off the light and opens the door, she comes to realize that the bedroom is empty.

she walks out of the bathroom and looks around, her eyebrows quickly knitting together in confusion.

and just as she's about to call out her boyfriend's name, she hears hushed voices outside of the room.

with much more confusion filling her body, she slowly walks out of their room and into the living room, only to see peter standing at the door, talking at the door in a hushed voice.

"pete? is everything okay?" she asks as she walks up from behind him.

he jumps a little in surprise, before motioning towards the door.

the blond hair of their current guest surprises her.

"oh, gwen. hi." she greets her best friend and then her boyfriend, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning into him with her chin resting on his shoulder.

"what are you doing here?"

gwen shrugs. "i just wanted to check up on you — your dad called me, yelling at me because he thought that you'd left to go hide at my apartment."

the words that come out of one of her best friends' mouth shakes [y/n] to her very core — anytime she hears anything about her father, she gets easily nervous and scared.

in a matter of seconds, [y/n] slowly pulls away from her boyfriend's body.

she knows that she should try to pretend everything's fine and as if her friend's words don't affect her, but she can't help it.

if she had a few more seconds, she'd probably fall into a state of mind where she'd completely shut down.

but, when a light touch to her shoulder by peter shakes her out of her daze, she sighs and nervously finds her boyfriend's eyes on her.

"what's going on, guys? did something happen?" gwen asks worriedly after seeing the tense look on [y/n]'s face.

peter doesn't speak. he doesn't even look away from his girlfriend — his eyes simply say that the decision is all hers.

despite the fact that him and gwen are pretty close friends, he's always respected [y/n]'s choices.

with a sigh, [y/n] turns to gwen. "i kind of had a run in with my dad earlier."

as she hears that statement, gwen begins to notice the bruises on her best friend's face.

she frowns. "are you okay?" she asks, but after a moment, she groans and rolls her eyes at herself.

"i'm sorry. that was insensitive — of course you're not okay."

[y/n] laughs, despite the seriousness of the situation. "it's okay."

gwen gives her a pointed look, not believing for one moment that what she asked was okay.

"really, gwen," she says, finding some courage inside of her. "i'm probably not okay. but... " she trails off, suddenly feeling like everything is going to be okay with the ones that truly love her by her side.

"for the first time, i think i'm going to be okay — that everything will be okay." she says confidently, moving even closer to peter and practically burying herself into his arms.

gwen smiles. "good. i'm glad."

—————

AFTER A LITTLE BIT MORE of talking, they all finally say their goodbyes and peter shuts the door gently.

they move over to the couch, peter covering them — mostly [y/n] — with one of the fuzzy throw blankets that was lying over the front of the couch.

"you doing okay?" he asks softly as she lays her face into his neck.

she smiles, feeling reassured for the first time.

she lifts her head back up to look at him.

"i know going back was stupid. i do—" before she can continue, he interrupts her with guilt evident in his brown eyes. —"i'm sorry, bug. for how angry i got earlier."

she tilts her head in confusion. "what do you mean?"

"i shouldn't have gotten upset with you. and i'm sorry for startling you. i was just worried." he murmurs seriously, frowning at her confusion.

"i just... every time i think about your dad being near you or hurting you, well, it drives me crazy, sweetheart." he says, trying to ignore the anger in his voice every time he thinks about the type of person his girlfriend's father is.

"pete... it's okay. i'm not going to go back — i learned my lesson." she says, cupping his jaw with one hand, in order to try to calm him down.

he sighs, leaning into her hand and covering it with one of his own.

"that's the point, sweetheart. you shouldn't have to be cautious and scared to avoid him, so that he doesn't act like that. it's not okay."

she frowns, wishing that she could stop him from worrying.

but, she also knows that he needs to get these feelings out and off of his chest.

"tell me, peter. what is it?" she asks, being the understanding girlfriend that he loves — no matter how cliche that actually sounds.

"i love how good-hearted you are, sweetheart. the way you always see the good in everyone, despite what they've done to you — it's amazing," he starts, pulling her hand away from his jaw to hold over one of his legs.

"and i never want you to stop being that person. but, i also hate that you have to avoid him. you shouldn't have to give up your happiness and peace."

she nods in clear understanding.

he groans again, leaning his forehead over hers.

"it's okay, peter."

he pulls away and opens his mouth to say something in defense, but she stops him by speaking before him, "peter, i know it upsets you that he doesn't get to be punished for his actions and i get that."

he stops short, giving her a chance to finish talking.

"i know you hate that. but, i know that you love me more than any urge that you have to give him what he deserves — and that's what i need you to do, okay? love me more than you hate him." he frowns at her words.

as if noticing his hesitation, she says, "for me. please?"

he sighs in defeat and nods. "fine. for you." he murmurs as he pulls her closer into his embrace and body.

she smiles in victory as she lies her head on his shoulder. "i love you, peter parker. you know that?" she murmurs, cuddling up close to him.

"i know i can always count on you." she says, once more, smiling as he chuckles and stretches over to kiss her on the forehead.

"good. because i love you more and i'll always hold you when you need it, dove." he murmurs, smiling at her calm and at peaceful face.

and like that, they cuddle until they fall asleep with peaceful expressions on their faces.

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boolger · 5 months

Text

I’m dangerous ☆ chapter 1 ☆ COD fanfic

Originally posted on my AO3, where I post all my stuff. Always read the tags of my fanfics. MDNI

[chapter 1] ☆[chapter 2] ☆ [chapter 3] ☆ [chapter 4] ☆ [chapter 5]☆ [chapter 6] ☆[chapter 7]

☆ fem!reader x Kate Laswell ☆ explicit. MDNI. ☆ 1/10 ☆ 1,843 words

☆ Summary: You were a hacker and had been a thorn in the side of the 141 gang for a while, in particular as you tried to find out who the famous leader, Watcher, was. But they refuse to be blackmailed and won’t pay you.

So, to prove that you weren’t just bluffing, but were a serious threat to them, you kidnapped a random woman that you saw coming out from one of their meetings, figuring she was a secretary or girlfriend or something.

Oh, how wrong you were.

☆ Tags: au mob, gang, kidnapping, blackmailing, dub-con, angst, smut, death, grief/mourning, hacking, non-con drug use, bondage, spanking, kissing, rough sex, inaccurate portrayal of mob, more will be added.

☆ note: I’m trying to keep the reader’s appearance vague, but she is afab, chubby and has shoulder length hair. ☆ As for plot – I’m not sure if I saw the post on tumblr or tiktok and I cant find it lol, but it mentioned reversing the more classic fanfic plots. So for example, the main character isn’t kidnapped by a mob boss - but kidnaps the mob boss. So, that is what I started with and then I will freestyle along the way. ☆ There will be mention of chronic illness and death of a character, not a main one, but the reader's little sister, but I try not to go into details about the illness aspect (since I don’t know too much about that). There will be focus on grief and the loss of a sibling however, so if that triggers or makes you uncomfortable, maybe don’t read this one. ☆ dubious consent in the later chapters, that might border to non-con. ☆ Badly described hacking. I don’t know shit about hacking, I've studied things in the humanities category the last six years. So if a bad understanding of tech makes you upset, I'm sorry.

Being a hacker wasn’t as glamorous as you had expected when you were younger. After everything with your sister, you had expected things to change, sure, but not into this. Everything was even more of a mess than before and somehow you got into blackmailing. Which, well… When you hit the right people, it paid well.

And sure, you had felt strong at first. Like you were invincible, a vigilante who blackmailed rich and awful people. You needed the money more than them, after all. Yet, the clock kept ticking and you needed more money fast. You needed more money to pay the last of your debts off and run away.

Which was how you ended up like this, blackmailing the mob.

The 141 gang was infamous on the streets of London. Most people knew who you talked about and those who didn’t, were often tourists or recently moved to the town. Whether they were hated or loved, really depended on who you asked. Some people said they made their areas safer, so they now had less crimes - others said they were horrendous bastards, who acted above the law. In truth, you didn’t really care. You weren’t a model citizen yourself, running around and blackmailing people. All you cared about was the fact that they had money, lots of it and they were easy to blackmail, since they didn’t want to be exposed.

Now, threatening them with the local police? Wouldn’t do much, it had to be to everybody – and then all the journalists too. Sure, you didn’t really have the energy to mass email out all the proof you had, but the 141 didn’t need to know that. You had them believe that you were a small group of people anyways and not just… you.

You, out in the almost empty house, over 50 miles away from London. It was much more lonely out here now. Half a year ago, you and your sister lived out here in peace, happy with how everything was going despite her illness flaring up now and again.

Now it was empty and lonely. Sometimes, when the wind hit the house at the right angle, you could hear the cars from the nearby motorway.

Alas, the 141 thought you were a big and bad group of hackers, threatening to take their kingdom down - and sure, you had a lot of stuff of theirs that could be bad in the wrong hands. You had papers, screenshots and recordings from when you hacked into different security cameras. You had traced a lot of them too, you had evidence.

Now they just needed to pay.

So far, they hadn’t really been fun to play with. They refused, saying that you were bluffing. Saying that if they saw you, they were going to kill you, which wasn’t really nice of them. You doubted they couldn’t survive without 60,000 pounds. Sure, it was a lot of money - but you needed them too. A bit more, you dared to think. And for a whole mobster empire? Seemed like a good deal to you.

Besides, you were so curious that you wanted to die: Who was their boss? Nobody knew. Everyone had ideas and theories, sure, but the famous Watcher was still unknown, even to you - which bothered you so much. You had your own theories, your main one was that this Watcher was really just John Price.

No matter who the Watcher was - and how good your deal was - they were just so fucking stubborn. So, you needed to prove that you were serious. You didn’t really have the time to mess around and send them more photos or shit, so according to movies you saw - and google - it was time to step up.

Go from hacker to kidnapper. Which really hadn’t been a career plan of yours, but here you were.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

You had tracked one of them, the Scot that everyone called Soap, so that you could follow them from a distance. You weren’t stupid enough to actually try to shadow them. Despite them not hanging around the finest streets of London, your beat up van stuck out sometimes.

Plans? Sure, you had… some of those. At least, you knew what not to do.

First of all - You weren’t going to take Price, people were around him all the time anyways and if he was the leader as you suspected, that wouldn’t go well.

Secondly, all his men were out of the picture too. At least those who always hang around him, because some of their biceps were bigger than your face.

Third, you had to avoid a proper fight - so that meant waiting for the right moment. You had a taser, duct tape and you had some strong sedatives. You were going to hack your way out of fighting.

Fourth and final point so far - get away as fast as possible. You weren’t going to stick around.

So just… wait for the right person, then tase, inject, duct tape, drive away. It was fine. You had all the components, you just needed to put it all together, then blackmail the group, get the money, drop off the person and then get away.

Your van was blue and rusty, the engine was loud and all the back seats were taken out, since you had lived in it for a little while, outside the hospital. The mattress you used to have in the back was pulled away, since you needed it for the captive to sleep on inside the house. They would have to deal with being on the car floor for the trip - they would most likely be sedated anyways. Now there was just some trash in the back of the car that you should probably have cleaned up, but didn’t care to, since the car bore bad memories - as well as some small electronic pieces that you had picked up here and there, thinking you would need to use it for experiments.

As the group came to a stop at a pub you knew they went to sometimes, you went behind it and parked next to a bigger car, which hid your van a little. Then you waited.

You wore some of your more discreet clothing. The baby-metal band t-shirts were hidden beneath a grey hoodie, with the least monster energy drink stains on, and a pair of rugged jeans. If your sister had been here she would have rolled your eyes at you and said you looked like a teenager trying to be rebellious - and not a 25-year old woman. You missed being told that. Your hair was hanging loosely, hoping it would hide your face a little. Your septum piercing was tipped up and hidden, and you had changed your usual silver tongue piercing for a clear one. Though you doubted that it was your tongue piercing that would be damning evidence.

After waiting about 25 minutes you crawled over the seats rather inelegantly, opening the sliding door to turn towards the other car, for some fresh air.

You were tired, yet stressed at the same time. It was unnecessarily stressful to kidnap somebody, especially when you didn’t really want to.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

It was about a power nap and 30 minutes later, when you were ripped from your thoughts at the sounds of the back door opening and a female voice telling somebody that she needed her cigarettes. You tipped your head forward a little, seeing how she closed the backdoor behind her.

You had seen her before. She seemed to be near the others a lot of the time.

She looked in her 40s, with light brown hair that almost looked a little blond in the rare sunlight of London. Nicely dressed, a confident smile on her face as she pulled her car keys from her bag and the car right next to you lit up.

Maybe a girlfriend? Wife? Secretary?

No matter what, the chance was too good to be true.

Somehow you managed to catch her off guard as she seemed more focused on finding her cigarettes as she opened her car door – so that was when you struck, tasing her. Everything happened so fast - yet not fast enough at the same time.

You pushed the needle into her skin, as she groaned, clearly a little confused from being tased - and most likely from hitting your car floor - as soon as the contents were injected you pulled the needle out again. The woman groaned and grabbed your wrist, mumbling something. You pushed it off, grabbing the roll of duct tape you had prepared, pushing her onto her stomach. She wasn’t going without a fight though and you wanted to cry as she managed to pull her hand free. You needed the bloody drug to kick in this minute.

You sat down on her back, your weight useful - the work of wrapping her wrists together was honestly shit. YouTube made it look so much easier.

You ignored her as she began to curse you out. grabbing her bag, emptying the content on the floor of the car, eyes constantly flickering to her. She seemed confused - so you focused. There was an Apple air tag in it, that you hurriedly picked up. There was no phone though. You wanted to throw up, this was taking longer than it should.

She tried sitting up, having rolled onto her back again, your eyes meeting. Hers were cloudy, while yours were focused. You pushed her down again, hands running over her jacket. The moment your hand touched the familiar shape of a phone, your hand dug into the pocket, not even trying to be nice about it. She was mumbling about how what you were doing was wrong, but you didn’t need to be told that.

As soon as you got the phone, you got up and crawled in between the front seats, sitting down and starting the car. You needed to get the hell out of here, now.

The sound of the shitty engine drowned out her complaints. You drove off as quickly as you could, throwing her phone and the AirTag out in a couple of bushes that the car passed.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

It was several minutes later that you concluded that nobody was following you, which made you breathe a little easier.

As you waited for the green light, you looked over your shoulder, taking in the sight of the woman on the floor of your car, in between empty monster cans, cables and small electronics. She was laying quietly, but you could see her chest moving.

What the fuck had you gotten yourself into? You could feel an anxiety attack crawling along your ribs, threatening to overwhelm you.

As soon as the money was transferred, you dropped her off again - and then you could run, somewhere up north. Start somewhere fresh, where you don't know anybody. Where the 141 or bad memories couldn’t find you. Maybe get a dog.

First things first, however. You needed to get this whole kidnapping thing done.

#fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #my writing #call of duty #call of duty fanfic #kate laswell x reader #kate laswell #cod fanfic #cod mob au #boolger #call of duty Kate Laswell #cod smut #cod lesbian #cod reader #call of duty reader

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maple-seed · 2 years

Text

What Ails You

Loki x Fem!Reader

Content: Pining, fluff

Summary: Loki is your closest friend in the tower, which leaves you struggling when you want something more.

Word Count: 3,444

Author's Notes: A fluffy little oneshot to see if I'm capable of telling a story in less than 100k words. Results are mixed! I'm dedicating this one to my friend @sarahscribbles and her follower milestone celebration. Congrats, Saz! You've earned it. <3

AO3 Link

Loki Fic Masterlist

You had decided to take advantage of the quiet and do some reading in the common room. The quiet never lasted long in the tower, and especially not in the common areas. Still, it was hard to beat the way the sun came through the windows in the lounge, so it was worth the attempt. Even if it was doomed to be short-lived, the quiet was nice.

As you turned your page the exact opposite of "quiet" strolled into the room.

"There she is!" Loki's arms spread wide. "My favorite mortal." You kept your face neutral, without looking up from your book. "What do you want, Loki?" Loki feigned hurt. "What do I want? Why should I want anything other than your company?" You looked up at him now. "You want something. You're trying to butter me up with that 'favorite' line." "Darling, it's true. You're more dear to me than anything else on this planet." "Loki, you hate this planet." He smiled brightly, spreading his hands. "All the more reason to rejoice; you have so little competition." You kept your expression hard, though the both of you knew you were going to give in.

When Loki first came to the tower the two of you became fast friends. It was probably easier for you than the others, since you hadn't been around for the whole "world domination" thing. Whether is was that or simply your natural proclivity for mischief, the two of you fell in together almost immediately. Then, later, you did a little more falling on your own. You had managed to keep your feelings under wraps so far, or at least you hoped you had, but every day was a new frustration.

Today it was the way the light hit his cheekbones as he looked down at you, leaning forward onto the back of the adjacent chair.

"Out with it, Laufeyson." You muttered. "Well, if you insist that there must be a favor to be garnered here, there is something that you could help me with." He casually inspected the upholstery, as if anything Loki did could ever be nonchalant. "Oh, is there really? Who could have thought?" "I am wounded. I was simply seeking you out to pass the time. This task was purely an afterthought." You rolled your eyes and closed your book. That was all he needed. "Excellent. You likely haven't heard, but yesterday I was issued an insult of the highest order-" "You once said that about a sandwich I made you." "Yes, and I stand by it. You used cheddar when it clearly called for provolone." You rolled your eyes again and waved for him to continue. "Thor has-" You held up a hand. "Stop. No. I can't prank Thor. He was pretty upset with me last time." He scoffed. "Hardly a concern." "It's a concern to me!" He dismissed it. "At any rate, you will not be committing the trick. In fact, you'll barely be involved at all." You sighed and fell back in the chair. "What do you need me to do?" He grinned, victory in sight. "Very simple. This afternoon after our training Thor will pass through the kitchen for one of those atrocious pastries before heading to his room to shower. Just post yourself in the kitchen and stall him. Distract him for a few minutes. A short conversation is all that's needed." "And what will you be doing during this conversation?" "I will be occupied elsewhere." His smirk told you that he wasn't going to give up anything else. You pursed your lips as you thought it over. Inevitably, you relented. "Fine." "Wonderful!" He stood and rounded the chair, lifting your hand and placing a kiss to your knuckles, which had you scrambling to remember how to breathe. "This is why you are my dearest friend." He flashed you a devastating smile before turning and striding out the room just as he had come.

You watched him leave while the word "friend" settled in your stomach like a lump of lead.

You were perched on a stool in the kitchen with a sandwich that was more of an alibi than a meal. Their training session would be over any minute now and you were peering cautiously down the hall.

"What are you up to, Trouble?" You jumped, nearly falling off the stool, and swung around to Tony. "What? No. Nothing." It was not your best performance. Tony raised a brow at you as he opened the fridge. "Don't give me that. I can tell when you and Prince Harming are scheming. I can practically smell it." You lifted your chin. "I don't know what you mean." "Fine. How about this." He pulled out a Chinese takeout box that was clearly marked "Rhodes" and grabbed a fork from the drawer. "Whatever it is that you're doing, leave me out of it, and I'll keep quiet." He speared a forkful of noodles and took a bite. You watched him for a moment. "Deal." He pointed the fork at you and winked before leaving the room.

You settled yourself back on the stool just in time to see the gods and the super soldiers coming down the hall in their post-workout ensembles. You watched Loki saunter past with his hair tied back, face flushed and glistening, and almost forgot why you were here. The sound of Thor rustling in the pantry brought you back to the task at hand. He had retrieved his pop-tarts and was turning to leave.

"Hey Thor." The greeting was casual. He stopped and smiled at you. "Good evening, my lady." You made a note of the super soldiers rummaging in the fridge. "How'd training treat you?" He grinned and flexed an arm. "You tell me." You laughed and prodded his bicep. "Pretty good. I mean, it's not vibranium, but that's pretty good." Behind Bucky, Steve's eyes widened. He gave you an imploring look and quickly shook his head. "Hah! A measly, metal, mortal arm is no match for a god's physique." Thor shifted and flexed again. Bucky scoffed and turned away from the fridge. "Hey, I gave you a run for your money today!" "Oh, certainly." Thor turned to the super soldier with a jovial smile. "But you are a friend, I didn't wish to hurt you." "What, so you're saying you were going easy on me?"

This devolved in the predictable way. In short order everything was swept off of the breakfast bar and they stood on either side and commenced an arm wrestling match. In the background Steve went about making his post-workout smoothie while periodically shooting them a disapproving look. Loki had said he only needed a few minutes, so when sparks of static began to crackle over their stalemate you stepped forward and placed your hands over their fists.

"Okay, guys, I think you've proven your points." You spoke to them as if they were children. "You're both very strong, I'm proud of you." The situation defused immediately. They reluctantly let go and both grumbled something about the next training session. You took your sandwich and made your way to your rooms.

Loki was already there, which was not a surprise. He often retreated here after pulling off a scheme. As if it were some kind of sanctuary. Maybe it had been at first, but everyone had caught on by now. If someone was trying to find him, his rooms would be the first place they would look. Your rooms would be the second. He was lounging casually on your couch with a book and had apparently used your shower, his dark curls hung damp on his shoulders. You pushed away the mental image of Loki in your shower and took a seat beside him.

"So, are you going to tell me what you were doing?" You asked before taking a bite of your sandwich. "Of course not, darling, I know how you like surprises." "I don't like surprises." "You know how I like surprises." You rolled your eyes. "Trust me, the reveal will be divine." He took the untouched half of your sandwich off the plate and took a bite, immediately frowning at you. "Really? Cheddar?" You smirked and shrugged. "It's my sandwich." He shook his head disapprovingly but took another bite.

You propped your feet up on the table and sat back. The two of you passed the time reading and chatting. It was not much time, the expected interruption arrived fairly quickly.

A pounding fist rang out at your door. "LOKI!" Thor's voice boomed through the wall. You looked to Loki, who smirked and waved you toward the door. More pounding. "LOKI! I know you are in there, you coward! Come out here at once!" You walked to the door and settled your face before opening it. "Hey Tho-" Your words were choked off mid-greeting. A hand flew up to clamp over your mouth as you took in the image before you with wide eyes.

Thor was standing before you, clothes hastily thrown on, it looked like he had showered too. His glorious golden locks had a new color: a vibrant shade of green.

He was wearing a powerful scowl and spoke through gritted teeth. "Where is my duplicitous brother?" You fought back your laughter and dropped your hand. "I'm sorry Thor, I don't know. I haven't seen him since this morning." "Lies!" He boomed. "I know this is his refuge." You stepped back and let the door swing open, giving him a full view of the room. It was empty. Thor scanned the room with a frown, giving you another doubting look. "Maybe check the library?" You offered helpfully. He scowled again, looking across the room one more time before silently storming off.

You closed the door and placed your back against it, immediately breaking into a fit of laughter. Loki reappeared on the couch with a victorious grin.

"Loki! His hair!" You wheezed. "You are awful! He's so mad!" He shrugged. "It was a just retribution." "I doubt that." You wiped away a tear and returned to the couch. "I'm hurt you would take his side in this." "Hey, I'm harboring you, fugitive. That's hardly taking his side." "A true friend wouldn't doubt my motives." That word again. You ignored it. "A true friend wouldn't make me an accomplice." "You would be terribly bored with a friend like that." He stated confidently as he opened his book. "Lots of people like peace." "Not you." You scoffed. "What makes you say that?" "Because you like me." He looked at you, smirking and satisfied. It made you want to grab him by the collar and show him how true that was. Instead you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. "Barely."

Loki stayed with you until he felt it was late enough to safely return to his rooms. When he was gone you took the throw pillow he was laying on to bed with you. His scent clung to it, and as you fell asleep you told yourself this wasn't pathetic at all.

You arrived in the kitchen early the next morning and made yourself breakfast as usual. Natasha was already sitting at the table with her mug. You took the seat beside her.

"Morning, Nat." "Good morning." She was drinking tea. That was strange. Usually she had coffee, especially this early in the morning. You didn't ask. The others were slowly filtering in and you didn't want to miss Thor's entrance.

You kept an eye on the doorway as you spread jam on your toast, the room filling up with the murmur of quiet conversations. Without notice, Nat reached over and snatched a triangle of toast from your plate. "Hey!" You dropped the knife back into the jar. "You make it so much better than me." She took a bite. You narrowed your eyes. "It's toast." "I know. It's my greatest shame that I can't get it right." She winked. Something wasn't right. You didn't have time to dwell on it, Wanda's gasp told you that Thor had arrived.

You looked up to see him walk through the door, dejected. The green had not faded in the slightest. The room had fallen completely silent. Then it exploded with laughter. It blended together into a roar, with a few jibes being thrown here and there. Thor simply stood and took it with a stern expression. From across the room Tony met your eye, giving a silent thumbs-up and sipping his coffee.

"Alright, alright, that's enough." Thor held up a hand to quiet the crowd. "This is not that funny." "It's pretty funny." Clint replied. Thor scowled. "This is a tremendous slight against me." "Come on, big guy." Tony jeered. "Why so serious?" Another roll of laughter. Thor glowered. "Has anyone seen my treacherous snake of a brother?" A murmur of answers in the negative between more laughs. Thor frowned. "I might kill him for this."

The cacophony had dwindled and normal conversation was returning. You took another bite of your breakfast then froze in place.

Natasha walked into the room, making her way to the coffee pot. She chuckled as she spotted Thor. "That's a look."

Every eye in the room turned in unison to the Natasha sitting next to you. She was wearing a very familiar smirk. "Well, you didn't think I was going to miss the show, did you?" A green light washed over her and Loki sat in her place.

A moment later the shape of Thor blurred past and suddenly the chair was knocked to the floor and two gods were having it out in a frenzy of limbs. The crowd watched with mild amusement as the brothers wrestled on the ground, growling ancient expletives at one another.

"And don't think-" Thor dislodged an arm from around his neck. "that I'm not aware your lady had a part to play in this." Your heart skipped a beat. His lady? "Hah!" Loki twisted a leg free. "You're only trying to target my mortal friend because you can't best me!"

Friend. You hid your reaction but it stung. You didn't need to see the rest, you knew how it would end. They would carry on for a bit then Steve would probably break it up, Loki would eventually change the hair back. You quietly stood and carried your plate to your room.

It was irrational, what you were feeling. You like being Loki's friend. You like that he claimed your room as sanctuary. You like that he steals food from your plate. You like that you were the first person he turned to for mischief.

Still, you want something else. You flopped onto your bed, lovesick, and wallowed for a bit. After a sufficient wallowing you decided you needed some time alone to clear your head. When a familiar knock came from your door you remained quiet and pretended you weren't there. He left. You didn't feel better.

Over the next two days you changed your routine. You ate at different times, trained at different times, you avoided the quiet places where Loki would usually find you. You started to think it was working. You didn't feel that lovesick ache in your chest so much. That came to a sudden stop when you turned the corner in your hallway and ran into Loki. Literally. You slammed into his chest and he caught your arms to keep you upright.

His face lit with a bright smile. "Dear heart, where have you been?" That was a new pet name. It had your stomach floating immediately. "Oh, I've been around. Just... busy. And tired. Tired lately." His hands slid down to take yours, his thumbs caressed your knuckles. "I've missed you." You stared, trying to decipher what his expression might mean and how you should respond. "I've just come from your room." Seeming to remember himself, he dropped your hands. "Barton will be hosting one of his... meat festivals." "I know you know that's not what it's called." He waved it away. "I can't be bothered to learn every inane detail of Midgardian culture." You pointed a finger. "It's a barbecue and you know it." He smirked. "At any rate, I wanted to make sure you would be attending. These rooftop events are unbearable without your company." You couldn't deny him, and numbly nodded. "Yeah, I'll be there. Sure." He smiled a gentle smile. "Excellent news." He took your hand again and pressed a kiss to it, like it was nothing, before releasing you and taking a step back. "Are you busy?" You recovered your faculty of speech. "Y-yeah, sorry. I was just about to go take a shower and head to bed." You glanced away. "Tired, you know." His disappointment was visible, but he only nodded and said, "I won't keep you." You managed a quick smile before stepping around him to head to your room. You felt his eyes on you the entire way.

You shut the door and leaned against it, closing your eyes. How did he do that? It was nothing for him, and you barely made it out of the interaction still on your feet. A cold anxiety settled into your stomach. You were going to end up giving yourself away. Embarrassing yourself. It was inevitable.

You hadn't actually been tired before, but you were exhausted now. You dragged yourself to bed, miserable.

It was inevitable, yes, but you decided to delay it anyway. You kept yourself away the next day, shut in your rooms, and when it was time for the barbecue you messaged the team to let them know you weren't feeling well and wouldn't be attending. You curled up on your couch with your book and did everything you could to avoid thinking about dark-haired gods and their perfect faces.

It worked for a while. Then there was a knock at the door. You knew who it was. You remained silent, maybe he would think you're asleep.

There was another knock, then he called your name through the door. You winced, calling back. "Loki, I'm sick. I'm not coming." "Yes, I've heard." His voice came through muffled. "I would like to come in." "You probably shouldn't. I'm sick." "Darling, you and I both know I can open this door." His tone made it clear that this was a courtesy.

You heaved a sigh, trudged over to the door and pulled it open.

Loki stood placidly on the other side. He didn't look upset, but you felt compelled to apologize regardless. "I'm sorry I didn't come, I'm just feeling a little under the weather." "Never mind it." He stepped past and turned to face you as you closed the door. "I haven't been feeling myself either." When you looked up you found he was studying you. You withered under the scrutiny, looking away and rubbing your arm. "I'm sorry, I'm just not up for having company right now." He wore a soft smile and stepped closer. "Surely you don't consider me to be company." You took a step back and hit the door. "No, I'm just... not feeling well." "Yes, so you've said." He stepped closer again, with a knowing look in his eye. "Tell me, what are your symptoms?" There was no space to back away. "Just... you know... tired." His gaze was making you squirm. He seemed to know it. "You did mention that." His eyes raked over you once and a slight smirk pulled at his mouth. "I think I may have the cure for what ails you." You scoffed. "Right. Of course you do." You looked up at him to retort but froze when you found something new in his expression. "Yes." His gaze was gentle and open. "I believe I suffer from the same affliction." You gaped at him, wide-eyed, and no longer felt the need to get away.

He slid an arm around your waist and dipped forward to kiss you as he pulled you close. You eagerly returned the kiss and as your hands found their way to his neck you felt his muscles relax beneath them. You pulled him closer and he hummed approvingly, his other arm finding its way around you. You clung to him, perhaps the only reason you remained upright. He broke the kiss with a sigh, pressing his forehead to yours. "How are you feeling?" You tilted back to see him more clearly. A smile curved one corner of his mouth, you reached up and traced the crease with your fingertip. "Better." You said quietly, looking up at him through your lashes. "But I think I might need another dose."

****

Loki Fic Masterlist

Maple's Loki Fic Tag list If you would like to be added or removed from this tag list please leave a comment or send me a message/ask.

@cheekyscamp, @muddyorbsblr, @gigglingtigger, @imalovernotahater, @mischief2sarawr, @goddessofwonderland, @purplekitten30, @lokisgoodgirl, @ultrasnakesona, @ozymdias

#loki #loki x reader #loki fanfic #loki mcu #loki fanfiction #mcu loki #reader insert #oneshot #fluff #pining

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prongsfish · 2 months

Text

it took very little encouragement to convince me so as described in this post here is the fake aita post i wrote from barty's pov while writing call me fate, call me karma... this was all written in jest, i do not use reddit nor care at all to try make this realistic to anything ever <3 don't take anything too seriously.

tw // transphobic & homophobic slurs used by a hostile commenter who faces immediate backlash/punishment. slurs are both censored and target identities to which i as the author belong to.

WIBTA for questioning my GF's distant behaviour when she clearly doesn't want to talk about it? ESH, 1 Update, [THIS POST HAS BEEN LOCKED]

I (18M) have been with my girlfriend (18F) for over 3 years now, and we'd been close friends for 4 years before that. We go to a boarding school, and due to the girls in our house and year being shitty, she moved into the boy's dorm with our friend and I before we even got together, and we're in our last year of school now before we graduate. We practically spend all our time together and our relationship is very strong, we've avoided talking too much about plans after graduation because we both come from very restrictive families (Without going into too much detail, we both face very specific expectations for what our adult lives will look like) and our relationship is a secret from everyone but our close friends, but I can see myself spending the rest of my life with her. She's everything to me and I've always gotten the idea that she feels the same about me, and honestly, whatever she wants to do after we graduate, I'd follow her. I don't really care where I go/what I do as long as it means I'm with her. I can't imagine life without her.

Lately, she's been acting really strangely. I guess it started during exams, but that's normal for her. We're both pretty academic people but she especially devotes everything into her schoolwork, so it wasn't a surprise when she was distant in the lead-up to and in the midst of our final exams. She didn't talk much, and spent practically all of her waking time studying. (Side note, she did amazing on the exams. I'm super proud of her.)

After, though, she was still distant. She started receiving letters at breakfast which she'd quickly hide, and never read in front of anyone. Sometimes she'd excuse herself entirely from breakfast, assumedly to read them, and wouldn't eat at all. She's been antsy and visibly stressed more often than not. Like I mentioned before, she has a difficult family life, and I'm not surprised that she's nervous in the time leading up to graduation, but usually she'd talk to me at least a little about that sort of thing. Plus, I know what letters from her family look like, and these letters look nothing like anything she'd ever received before. She's been less physically affectionate than usual, and sometimes she shows up after disappearing randomly looking like she's just been crying. I'm really worried about her, but I know that if she wanted to talk to me about it, she would, and she's been insistently ignoring any indication of concern from our friends or I. Even the slightest questioning look, she completely shuts it down. I don't want to upset her by bringing it up, because that's not really the way we function as a couple, but I'm starting to feel hopeless. We don't really talk about our issues, and when we do "communicate" it's only ever when we argue about things. I'm also really worried that I've done something wrong, or that she doesn't want to stay with me. I don't want to admit it because it scares me too much, but I can't help the nagging fear in the back of my mind.

Basically, I'm trying to ask if I should mention it, or if I should wait for her to say something on her own? Something has to happen eventually, because we've both known at least with graduation that we do need to decide on what we're going to do with that, so maybe I should just wait for it all to come up. There's only a few more weeks until we're set to go home, so I could probably just hold on. It's just really worrying me and I don't know how much longer I can handle the uncertainty, and I don't want her to be struggling alone. Would I be TA for bringing it up?

(122 DOWN)

Sounds like you guys need to learn how to communicate, holy shit. (467 UP)

If you're just gonna be a dick I don't want to hear it. This is just how we function and we've been fine for years. (531 DOWN)

I don't think you'd be TA for bringing it up, but in general it sounds like your relationship is somewhat codependent. Your entire life shouldn't be reliant on what she wants to do, bro. Sounds like you need therapy. (271 UP)

Look, I just want to be with her, okay? I've never cared about what I do. I don't see the issue, you're all overreacting. (113 DOWN)

It sounds to me like she's cheating on you, dude. (364 UP)

Fuck you. You don't fucking know her. She wouldn't do that, and I don't like you suggesting that she would. I'd beat the shit out of you if I knew who you really were. (210 DOWN)

Looking through these replies, you're being super defensive. Maybe she has a perfectly innocent explanation, but the main theme here is that you both have some issues that you need to work through. This isn't a healthy way for either of you to live, I recommend individual and/or couples therapy for both if possible. (545 UP)

Whatever, man. Not the god damn point of this point. If I knew Reddit would be so useless I wouldn't have bothered posting here in the first place. (478 DOWN)

Update

Hahaaaaa!! Fuck you guys. Reddit is fucking useless, but I'm here because I want to shove it in the face of everyone who told me I was being cheated on. Fuck you!! You don't know shit about my relationship!! I don't need therapy, assholes!! Me and my boyfriend are perfectly okay the way we are!!! Yeah, that's right, boyfriend! He's just trans!! He realised it during exams and freaked out because he was worried about losing me but he didn't lose me because I don't give a fuck if he's a girl or a boy I wanna spend the rest of my life with him!! The letters were between him and his estranged brother (19M), who'd ran away a few years ago because he hated their family, but he's gay, and my boyfriend didn't know who else to reach out to. And he'd been crying all the time because he was dealing with fixing his relationship with his brother and he was scared of what would happen after he came out. I didn't even need to bring it up, he finally told me! He finally told his brother a few days ago after exchanging letters for a few weeks, and told me after getting a letter back from his brother accepting him. His parents wouldn't accept him, so we're discussing fucking off away from our families and moving in together. Like I told you guys, I'd do whatever as long as I could stay with him, so that's what we're doing! We might be moving in with his brother for a bit while we find somewhere to live, which will be interesting, because he doesn't know we're together, and he hates me, and i kinda hate him too still for abandoning my boyfriend, but I'm willing to give him another shot if my boyfriend is. Anyways we're doing better than ever and I gave him a haircut and he looks amazing, I love him so much.

(73 UP)

Happy for you and him both but that doesn't negate the fact that you both still need therapy. Especially if he has to cut his parents off because they wouldn't accept him. You didn't give many details, but if his brother ran away (assumedly as a minor) because of their parents, I wouldn't be surprised to hear that it was an abusive environment. Even if not, therapy is still good. (175 UP)

Why would he need therapy if he's literally cutting them off lol. They're gone now it doesn't even matter anymore. (313 DOWN)

I truly am glad that it worked out well between you guys but it's so crazy reading these and all your comments. I mean this in the best way possible, you are both mentally ill. Therapy is a good thing. Just try it. (231 UP)

Jfccc you guys worry too much. I shouldn't have even bothered with this update. (282 DOWN)

Got invested just to find out she's a delusional tr***y and you're a f****t, wow. (278 DOWN)

192.158.1.38, Mr. John Doe. 123 Maple Street. Anytown, PA 17101 (263 UP)

Thanks OP for doing the hard part of the work for me, a swat team is currently on route to his house. (182 UP)

Thanks, mate. I knew there had to be some decent people on this website. (101 UP)

#this is Sooo Dumb #SO fun to write though #i highly recommend doing this it actually helped me a lot #i love writing characters that are objectively wrong. go king reject any suggestion of therapy!! you ate that trauma up!!#barty 'i'd beat the shit out of you irl' crouch jr #bartylus #barty crouch jr #regulus black #series: i'll try anything once

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vylad243 · 6 months

Note

Given a little taste and now I need to hear more about Lucifer’s involvement with the hotel in this AU 👀

With one of the recent one shots you posted I just loved how Lucifer treated Vox vs Alastor. He seems to prefer Vox out of the two, at least to the point he would actively catch him, and I find that adorable. How does Lucifer interact with Vox? Does Alastor even give him a chance?

With that last line from Lucifer I’m just seeing Lucifer running in and snatching Vox from Alastor like “I’M GONNA GET YOU SOMEONE BETTER” with Alastor screeching in the background as Lucifer flies away. He gets dragged back by Charlie with her lecturing him the whole way. Alastor refuses to leave Vox alone with Lucifer in any capacity.

Excited to see if Lucifer shows up in your fic too :))

Hi! Thank you for reading! I'm glad to hear you enjoyed it! ^-^

Lucifer prefers anyone over Alastor. He doesn't hate Vox, but he isn't the biggest fan of him. Lucifer can sense Vox's pain and fear, though, so he doesn't make a point to treat Vox harshly or start anything with him even though Vox and Charlie get along well.

Lucifer mostly likes Vox because animals like Vox. Lucifer is a firm believer that animals are the true senses of the soul, and he can see how much Vark loves Vox and vice versa. Lucifer trusts Vox and doesn't mind being friendly with him. They aren't friends- but Lucifer would never go out of his way to get a rise out of Vox and is pretty wary of how he acts around him.

He found out about Alastor's feelings first because of how aggressive Alastor got towards him for even looking Vox's way. Lucifer did try to flirt with Vox to upset Alastor, but it went over Vox's head, and after Vox opened up about Valentino to Lucifer- he stopped. He did succeed in pissing off Alastor, though.

Alastor would constantly put himself in between Lucifer and Vox because Alastor views him as a threat. Lucifer is far more powerful than Alastor, and Alastor knows Vox is attracted to power. Alastor would always butt into their conversations and sweep Vox away from Lucifer and he eve headbutted Vox once to herd him away. Vox thought it was hilarious and had no idea Alastor was trying to separate him and Lucifer.

Lucifer does accept that Vox and Alastor like each other, but he is a firm believer that Vox can do better than Alastor, but he's happy for them- he would just never show it.

On another note- Lucifer has stolen Vark many times from Alastor and Vox to see who would freak out more. At first, it was Vox - and then after Alastor and Vox started dating? It was Alastor. Lucifer did not expect Alastor to freak out and almost tear up the building looking for Vark. Turns out Alastor was babysitting Vark while Vox was away on a business trip, and Lucifer had no idea. He stopped taking Vark when Charlie lectured him about it

#hazbin hotel #anonymous #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #radiostatic #hazbin hotel lucifer

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musings-of-a-rose · 4 months

Text

Falling Slowly - Chapter 10

Pairing: Tommy Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 3900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: I'm sorry this took so long to post! Originally this was supposed to be it, but this chapter took a lot more to write than I anticipated, so you'll have one more chapter after this one!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Divider made by @benkeibear

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Falling Slowly Masterlist

Tommy Miller Masterlist

Tommy was right about Joel. Not only did he refuse to come, he got into an argument with Tommy, calling him all sorts of names before storming out. Rose and Sarah both think he's just scared of losing Tommy, and they're probably right. My pants would be engulfed in flames if I said I wasn't scared shitless.

But the alternative is staying here and, as much as I love this cabin and our family, we can't stay here with this raider situation. I cannot lose my husband.

Tommy ends up having to do one more raider mission, but he knows that I'm packing up our things, quietly. Jax is mostly upset about leaving Sarah, but he understands why we have to leave. He may only be 13, but he's fairly observant. He's seen the weight on his father's shoulders and knows that it can't stay that way.

I get everything gathered up, provisions, any personal items that we'd need, like our packs. I fill up canteens and water canisters they had lifted from an old Walmart a couple years back. When Tommy and Joel return, Tommy actually has a little pep in his step. He pulls me in for a hug, whispering in my ear.

"I have a Firefly meetup location."

That had been the reason Tommy had gone out once more, to scout more information about the Fireflies. I don't know how he did it, but he did, the scowl on Joel's face all the confirmation I need to know it's legit.

We all take full showers, not knowing when we'll have this luxury again, Tommy and I lingering a little longer than was necessary in ours. After a full night's rest, or as much rest as we can get, when the sun has barely risen, we're putting the last of our things in the back of the SUV. Rose and Sarah had come down and made breakfast while we finished packing and loading. Joel had come down but said nothing, eating silently as we all joked and ate, trying to push away the real idea that we may never see each other again.

Rose and Sarah walk Jax and I to the SUV out front, idle chatter trying to cover up how scared we were. Tommy and Joel are still inside and we figured we would give them their space.

"If he changes his mind, just find the Fireflies. They'll know where we are," I reassure Rose as she leans over to hug me. "Even if we end up leaving them, we'll leave word with where we go."

Rose nods against me. "Did you get the extra med kit I stashed in your bag?"

I chuckle. "Yeah. Thanks, mom."

She pulls back and cups my face. "Please be careful."

"You too."

She hugs me briefly again before stepping back. "Who knows, maybe Joel will change his mind."

Sarah blows a raspberry with her tongue. "Yeah, that'll happen."

I pull Sarah to me, still in shock that she's somehow 24 and not 12. A whole entire ass adult. She hugs me tight, like if she squeezes just a bit harder that I won't go.

"You watch out for your dad, Sarah. Don't let him get in his head. You know how he is."

She nods and pulls back, wiping tears from her face. "Pulling his head out of his ass should be fun."

Fuck I'm gonna miss this kid.

The front door opens and Tommy and Joel walk out, Tommy chatting away to a stoic faced Joel.

"...can change your mind, you know. We can pack everything up and be gone in a couple hours?" Tommy ends with a hopeful note, but his face quickly falls as Joel shakes his head.

"I already think you're fucking stupid for leaving this place."

"Fair enough. Well, you know how to find us." Tommy tosses his pack in the backseat and turns to give Joel a hug, their embrace lasting a little longer than it normally would have. Tommy moves on to Rose and Sarah, Joel stepping back to give them their space.

I walk up to him and squeeze his hand, his brown eyes, so like his brothers but so very different, finding mine. "Please think about it, Joel. Even without the Raiders, you know it's only a matter of time before the kids would want to leave and make their own lives."

He nods. "I can't promise we'll leave, but I promise to think on it."

"I'll take it."

Joel pulls me in for a hug, which always still surprises me a little, as I'd thought for the longest time that he hated me, only to find out he was pissed at Tommy for not asking me out for forever.

"Uncle Joel?" Jax cuts into our embrace and Joel whispers something in his ear, which must have been some joke between them because Jax starts laughing and Joel even cracked a small smile.

"We gotta get going, Daisy." Tommy touches my arm and I look at him, nodding before looking back at everyone, exchanging our last goodbyes and I love you's.

Driving away from our little corner of this new world into an uncertain one was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.

"Welcome to the Fireflies," A woman named Marlene, who appears to be the big leader, welcomes us into their makeshift camp.

"Thanks for having us," Tommy shakes her hand and she nods.

"Anyone willing and able to join the fight. And from what I hear, you're an excellent shot. Military background?"

"Desert Storm."

Marlene nods. "We could definitely use that. Everyone pulls their weight around here. What can you two offer?" Marlene looks pointedly at me and Jax and it's then I realize that she wouldn't give two flying fucks about us if it it were between the mission and us. Something to keep an eye on.

"I'm really skilled with gardening."

"I swear this woman could grow an apple tree from a broken stick," Tommy chuckles.

"That's great but we don't really have much need for a gardener."

"Oh. Well I'm pretty good with medicine. My...sister in law was a doctor. I helped her a lot."

"Medicine? That we can definitely use. What about you?" She turns to Jax, who's eyes widen at being addressed directly, which make sense since he's only talked to us since he was 3.

"I uh, I'm good with ani-"

"He was learning medicine. Alongside me. He makes a good assistant."

Marlene looks between me and Jax for a moment before nodding. "Alright. Both of you report to the med room in the morning. You all have the rest of the night to settle in. Your room is at the end of the hall, the door with the Barbie sticker on it. I'll see you in the morning, Tommy." Marlene walks off, another Firefly immediately approaching her and speaking in a low voice.

"Well. Let's go see where our for now home is."

Tommy picks up his pack and a bag, all of us copying his movements, and heads down the dingy hallway. I'm sure this building was gorgeous, back in it's day. But the years since the outbreak haven't been kind, water had leaked through the roof, the wallpaper peeling back in places, piles of rubbish strewn about or pushed aside to make a path. We reach the door with the Barbie sticker and Tommy pushes inside, the room not much cleaner than the hallway. There were two beds in this once hotel room, but I'm not certain I want to sleep on them.

"I miss home," Jax says under his breath.

"Yeah, bud. Me too. But this is an adventure! And temporary. We can deal with this."

I appreciate his optimism, but I am also doubtful about the conditions of our living situation changing while with the roaming Firelfies.

Life with the Fireflies was constantly busy. It seemed like they were trying to fight multiple battles, people often going on missions away for weeks at a time, our camp always on the move and not just in one area but across the country. Tommy was often away, either helping Marlene strategize or actually putting his own boots on the ground. I hated when he had to do that. He'd get this look in his eyes, much like when he has PTSD dreams about his time in the Army.

After a time, Jax asked me why I had lied to Marlene about him helping with medical things as opposed to his gift with animals. I told him I wanted him close, which was the truth. It wasn't that I thought he wasn't capable, but I wanted him near me in case something happened. I didn't trust them. Not entirely.

About 2 years in, we were stationed outside of the Denver QZ, which was still controlled by FEDRA. It took them a few months of scouting and gathering intel before Marlene finally approached Tommy and another member, Eugene, about infiltrating the QZ, attacking them from the inside.

"I'm sorry, she wants you to be, what, a terrorist cell or something?" I couldn't believe what Tommy was telling me. I knew he had to be doing some things he didn't like, his PTSD was really bad these days, but this?

He nods. "Yeah, something like that. Except we aren't terrorists, Daisy."

I count on my fingers. "Infiltrating a city, gathering more intel, setting off bombs or some shit, and probably fucking.. I don't know, torturing people or whatever terrorists do? That's not terrorism?"

He shakes his head. "It's not like that, Daisy. FEDRA is a military dictatorship. Those civilians in there are struggling and dying under their bullshit terms."

I scoff. "So you're going to free them from their oppressors by bombing them?"

He pauses. "I don't make the call."

"No. You just follow orders." The anger and hurt in Tommy's eyes cut into me and I sigh. "I'm sorry, Tommy. I am. I'm just...I'm scared."

The anger softens and he takes my hand. "I know. I am too. But those people need our help."

6 months. Tommy had been gone in his "not terrorist cell" for 6 months. Marlene just avoided me now, not even bothering to see me when I demanded an update. She kept telling me she'd tell me when she knew something, but how do I trust her? She sends her people in like pawns, their deaths for the cause are justified in her eyes.

I remember the day he left. A soft kiss to my lips in my early morning daze, the press of his hips against mine, my moans catching in my throat as we have to be nearly silent.

I adjust his jacket by the front door, smoothing it down before running my fingers over his hair, which he'd let get a little longer these days, the curls sometimes tumbling over his forehead.

"I promise I'll come back, sweetheart."

"You better. Or I'm coming in the afterlife and dragging your ass back out."

He laughs, a sound I had become unfamiliar with, and it brings tears to my eyes. He cups my cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears. "I don't doubt that for a second."

"Please be safe. And don't be stupid."

He pulls me to him, my face nuzzling into his chest as I inhale his scent, trying desperately to etch it into my memory.

"I love you, Daisy. Keep Jax close."

"I will. I love you."

One last kiss, a swipe of his tongue in my mouth and he's gone, a small smile and freckles the last image of him before the door closed. He'd told me a few weeks, maybe a month tops. Or 2.

But it had been 6. Half a year.

Jax turned 16 shortly after Tommy had left and I could hear them trying to recruit him to be boots on the ground. Not that age really matters to them. I've seen them parade kids through here, no more than 11, putting a weapon in their hands and telling them they have a chance to fight for freedom. But Jax will have none of it. He took my warning when we first joined and poured himself into his role as a medical assistant, helping the other healers but always staying near me. I knew his heart wasn't in it, not like it was with animals. But that calming nature the animals loved allowed him to calm anyone who came in, whether they were dying or not.

It was late. I sent Jax to our room, letting him crash a bit earlier than normal because he just looked so weary. I start to tidy things up a bit, never really having the time to during the day. When I put the last tray up, I hear shuffling and mumbled voices in the hall. I listen, not to eavesdrop but to hear if they were coming my way. They were, and in a bit of a hurry. The door is kicked open and 2 men enter, carrying a 3rd man in between them.

Tommy.

Relief and terror washed over me as I take him in, the 2 men laying him on the makeshift examination table. I swallow down everything to focus on the healing part. There would be time for more later.

"Daisy, can you handle this?" Marlene asks from somewhere in the dingy room.

I nod, a tray already in my hand. I bark orders at one of the men and he scurries about, trying to gather up the things I need. Tommy lays on the table, nearly unconscious, the other man, Eugene, has his hand pressed tight against Tommy's side.

"What h-happened?" I manage to choke out.

Eugene looks at Marlene for permission and I see red.

"If my husband dies on this table because it's some classified-"

"Shrapnel. We didn't see the grenade. Tommy saw it last minute and pushed me out of the way. He cleared the blast but it sent shit flying."

Fuck. Fuck fuck FUCK. Not the time to panic.

"Marlene, go wake Tenari. I'll need another pair of hands."

"What about Jax?"

"He doesn't need to see this."

She nods and heads out the door, setting a brisk pace.

I pour some alcohol over my hands and wipe them together, disinfecting them as best as I can. "Ok, Eugene. I need you to move your hands so I can see."

"Yes ma'am. I just didn't want it to jiggle."

I swallow hard and can't help the gasp that leaves my lips when Eugene's hands are clear of Tommy's body. A sharp piece of metal sticks out from the side of his abdomen at a strange angle, his shirt ripped and soaked in blood. The other man comes back with the supplies just as Tenari comes in. She glances at Tommy and immediately moves to our makeshift medicine cabinet.

Fuck. I wish Rose was here. This is very out of my league. But she did tell me a bit about foreign objects in the body. It's not just the shrapnel I'm worried about. It's how dirty the metal was.

"His blood is red so it missed his liver," I note as Tenari sets down some herbs and medicines next to the bandages and rags that the other man had brought.

"That's something at least. You want me to stitch? You know I have a steady hand."

I nod. "Yeah. That might be best. I'll get by his head."

Eugene stands next to me, grabbing Tommy's arm. The other man moves by his feet. Marlene comes back in with someone else, each of them taking another leg and arm. I lean over his face, his eyes still closed, placing my hands on his cheeks.

"He's going to wake up when I pour this on him and take it out. You gotta hold him still. Everyone ready?" A quick glance and everyone nods.

Tenari wastes no time. In one quick move, she picks up the alcohol bottle and dumps it on the wound. Tommy immediately wakes, shrieking and yelling, his body pushing against everyone holding him down as the alcohol burns him.

"Hey baby. Ssshhh it's me. It's Daisy."

His eyes flash up to mine, tears leaking from them. "Make it stop, Daisy," His voice is small and raspy, choking back pain.

"I know, baby. I know. But the alcohol is doing its job. But, hey look at me," Tommy's eyes had started to wander, noticing Tenari grabbing something from the little side table.

"Tell me."

"You took shrapnel. It doesn't appear to have hit your liver, which is good. But we have to take it out and stitch you up. You gotta stay still, which we will help you with."

"This is gonna fuckin' suck, isn't it?"

I smile a little down at him, brushing some curls from his forehead. "Yeah, baby. It's going to really suck. But I'll be right here, ok? Feel my hands on you? I'm right here."

He's scared, but he'd never admit it. A moment's pause before he nods. "Just do it."

Tenari looks around at us and we nod, everyone bracing. My eyes don't leave his, not when she pulls out the shrapnel, not when the scream erupts from my husband's throat, not when he involuntarily pushes against everyone, his body trying to escape the pain. I call his name and he looks at me, pain in his eyes and I smile gently at him. I start to sing, one of his favorites and he focuses his attention on me, grunting out when Tenari starts to sew his skin back together. By the time she's done, he's stopped fighting it, his eyes solely fixed on me. Tenari places a hand on my arm, letting me know she's finished. Everyone lets him go and I end the song, Tommy still looking at me, a faraway look on his face as his eyes start to close from the stress of it all.

"You got it from here?" Tenari asks.

I nod. "I got it. Thank you."

She squeezes my arm before gathering up all the things that need to be washed, Eugene and the other man helping her. As they leave, I hear Marlene tell Eugene he needs to find his wife. Something about her not being happy.

I sit on the stool next to Tommy's makeshift bed, a clean rag and a bowl with soapy water in my hand. I start to clean him, making sure all of the blood is wiped away so we can keep a good eye on his stitches. I make a poultice from our medical stash, placing it over his stitches so it can hopefully keep away any infection. We managed to get some antibiotics in him, but who knows if those still work after all this time?

When I'm all cleaned up, I sit back down in the chair next to his bed, taking his hand in mine. I lace my fingers with his, using my other hand to push his hand back from his face.

And then I lose it.

Tears pour from my eyes like I've never cried before. My body shakes, my stomach in knots. My heart feels simultaneously like it's being ripped from my chest but also relieved that he's finally back with us. I calm down enough to kiss his cheek, speaking directly into his ear.

"You are not allowed to die on me, Tommy Miller.....please don't die on me."

Tommy sleeps for nearly 3 days straight, only waking once to take a sip of water before slipping back into sleep. Tenari says that's a good thing, that his body is trying to heal.

He was a little warm that first day, but by the second he was cooling down. By the end of the third day, any trace of a fever was gone. The strong smelling poultice was doing its work.

"Daisy?"

He croaks out my name and my head snaps up from where I had been dosing off next to him.

"Tommy! Hey baby, how do you feel?" I feel him squeeze my hand. Even though it's weaker than normal, I still think that's a good sign.

"Like I had a piece of metal ripped from my stomach."

I chuckle, unable to stop the tears that started flowing the second I heard his voice. He reaches up and wipes away a tear from my cheek.

"Hey none of that. You really think a dinky piece of metal is gonna take me away from my family?"

I sob, nodding. "Either that or infection."

"Come here."

He pulls me to him as best he can, holding me while I sob into his chest, speaking gentle phrases into my ear to calm me.

"I'm not going anywhere, Daisy. Well, I'm not dying anyway."

I sit upright, looking him straight in the eyes. "Don't tell me you're going on another mission?"

He shakes his head. "No, baby. I think...I think we need to leave."

Relief surges through me. "Are you serious?"

He nods. "When I was in the QZ, I managed to get a job working the radio. Lied. Told them I'd had experience. Anyway, I was listening in one night and I heard some people, not in the QZ, talking about some settlement up north. Somewhere in Wyoming."

"Wyoming is fairly large, Tommy."

"Yeah, I know. Supposedly it's somewhere in Teton County."

"Another QZ?"

"No, nothing like that." He grunts, but declines my offer of more pain meds. "It's like a proper settlement or somethin'. They didn't hear much after a few radio sessions, but they did say they were working on the radio."

"So it could be overrun? Or non existent?"

Tommy shrugs. "I think it's worth a shot."

"And...and what if it's not real? Or overrun?"

He takes a deep breath and winces. "Then we find some remote cabin up there and figure it out."

Being with the Fireflies isn't really safe. We've had more close encounters with clickers being with the Fireflies than we ever have. The QZ's didn't look like great places to live either. I guess we have as decent a chance as any trying to find this place. We still have our truck so at least it won't be entirely on foot.

"Get Jax. We should ask him," Tommy gestures towards the door to the stairs that leads to our little room.

"He's only 17."

"Yeah. A man."

"17, Tommy."

"This world is different. He's smart. Just...let's hear his opinion."

Jax immediately agrees to leave, tired of this hectic life, tired of the Fireflies trying to take the medicine from his hands and replace it with a weapon.

And so, a month or so later at the start of fall, once Tommy has mostly healed, we pack up and leave the Fireflies, telling Marlene where we were heading just in case Joel or Rose or Sarah reach out. I can tell Marlene isn't happy about Tommy leaving, but she did say we were always free to go.

This time, I don't look back.

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lovrre · 2 years

Text

Baby protect me<3

Word count: 2k

Summary: On Joel’s birthday two men try assaulting you, when Joel takes care of them ,you realize how much you like the violence And Joel realizes he’s not over his trauma.

Warnings: slightly dark fic, a little Angst, attempted SA, cursing, sadistic themes, no smut but slightly suggestive themes 🌝

Author note: I’m mostly likely gonna rewrite this one later but I just really wanted to post something. So enjoy for now, Suggestion box IS OPEN!

You awoke in bed next to Joel for the third time this week. You watched his chest rise and fall like you normally did when you woke up first. You liked it, you liked him, apart from you hoped for more from the relationship than sex, but Joel tried his best to be distant with his emotions. Sometimes you guys would seem like a couple and other days not even friends. Joel sits up suddenly in bed, small sweat droplets sliding down his body.

You quickly sit up beside him rubbing your hand up and down his arm trying to console him “you ok baby?” you ask worried he takes a couple of labored breaths before speaking “I gotta get some air” he says plainly getting out the bed and walking towards the door. You laid back and enjoyed watching his sweaty shirtless body leave the room. When he returned, you realized you had accidentally fallen back asleep, you woke up to Joel sitting on the edge of the bed putting on his clothes. “Where you going” you say groggy rubbing your eyes “I think I'm gonna go for a walk” he says stuffing his foot in his shoe. “ Nightmare?” You ask, sitting up on your elbow. He doesn’t reply,“ are they about-” he cuts you off “ DON’T” he snaps. There’s an awkward silence before you speak “you don’t have to be rude” you say angrily, rolling over so your back is facing him

Joel opens his mouth like he about to say something, then closes it and walks out the room. You hear him leave, but don’t say anything. When the sun comes up you stretch hoping to feel Joel’s hard body next to you despite still being a little upset with him. But when you run your hands over his side of the bed you feel nothing but the cold mattress. You can tell by his blanket that he never came back to bed last night, mostly likely sleeping on the couch.

~~~

After getting dressed, you walk into the kitchen, Joel is sitting at the kitchen table reading an old book. You sit across from him quietly for a second before talking. “Good morning, you still grumpy?” you ask, watching him pretend to be focused on reading. “ Joel?” You wave a hand by his face, Joel stays quiet for a second before huffing in defeat looking up from his book

“ I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, last night I’m sorry” he says sincerely reaching over the table to hold your hand, he rubs his thumb slowly over your knuckles “you know I’m no good with emotions a stuff, but I’m working on it ”He says letting out a deep breath.

A big grin takes over your face “Well good you apologized because now I can give you your present ”. Joel looks surprised as you jump up from your chair and go to reach under the kitchen cabinet for Joel’s birthday gift.

“How did you-“ you cut him off, “Close your eyes!” you yell, you wait for Joel to close his eyes before you hid the gift behind your back and walk towards him. “Hold out your hand” you say, try to contain your excitement. You place a big metal cylinder of Café Bustelo in his hand, You put the red mug you got to go with it on the table. “ Open!” You say excitingly. Joel opens his eyes, it takes him a second to realize what it is, “is this real?” He asks surprised examine the container “yep, 100% unopened espresso, none of that nasty homemade shit they sell at the market” you laugh “what the hell did you trade to get this…” he says opening the top “no that much actually the younger ones don’t care for coffee” you saying sitting on the edge of the table. “It still has the seal on it” he says surprised looking up at you, “I told you it’s unopened” you laugh at his giddy reaction over coffee

Joel laughs to himself before pulling you down by your waist onto his lap. He places the coffee tin on the table” is this mine too” he asks pointing to the big Mug “mmh” you smile, moving a small piece of hair his forehead. “Happy birthday baby” you say kissing his cheek, “Thank you” he smiles placing a kiss on your lips.

“Let me make us some of that coffee” Joel says, moving you off his lap, so he can make the coffee. “You know what would be good with coffee, cake!” you say clapping your hands together

“what, you got some?” Joel questions “no, but I can make some… tonight ”. You say excitedly “I’d like to see that” he muffles coughs under his breath. You elbow him in his ribs, making him laugh “you will”.

~~~~~~

Later that Day, you decided to try to go to the street vendors and see if you could scrabble up enough ingredients for a small cake. “I’ll be right back” you yell out by the door, zipping up your coat. “Where you going?” Joel asks, poping up from around the corner. “I’m just going to the market vendors” you say, ready to leave. “ It’s drizzling and The suns almost gone, I don’t think they’re out there”

Joel says, pointing to the window covered in rain droplet’s. “Well I just wanna see if they have something, I’ll be back soon ”you say getting ready to open be door. “ok I’m coming with you” Joel says turning to get his jacket “it’ll only be a minute promise” you say giving him a quick smile before opening the door “be careful!” Joel yells before you close the door.

~~~

Joel was right, most of the vendors were gone except an old man selling shovels and a lady selling potatoes. Not wanting to go home empty-handed you thought you should try to go to someone you knew of who bakes. But you knew they would probably charge you more for it. You walk 5 minutes down the pathway and turn down an alley you knew he lived on. You knocked one of the doors hoping it was the right one, you a stepped back looking at the rain hit your shoes as you waited for someone to answer the door.

A tall nice looking young man answered the door maybe 27or 26 definitely young when the world went to shit. By the big scar from his eyebrow to cheek, you knew he was the baker everyone spoke of. “Hi not trying to bother you, but I wondered if you could sell me some ingredients for a cake about… this big” you say showing him the size with your hands. You laugh at your own gesture, “Are there not any vendors you can bother?” He says scrunch up his face in disgust showing his rotten looking teeth.

“Ain’t none left out” you reply not as humorous as before. “uhhh I guess I can, but it’s gonna cost you about 35” he says giving you a creepy smiling that made you insanely uncomfortable “fuck that, for two eggs and some flower, 30 max” you low balled, you had forty but wasn’t willing to spend it all on a small cake “you out here by yourself? ” he asks, looking down the ally to see if someone else was with you

“no I’m not” you reply quickly hoping he doesn’t try anything stupid “so who you out here wit because I don’t see-“. You cut him off “are you gonna sell me the damn eggs or not” you say, bringing back his focus to the deal “35, final offer” he yells out you stay quiet for a second “Deal” you say grudgingly.

“Pay upfront” he says, holding out in a grabbing motion. “No, half” you say irritated “ok that works” he says looking down the ally again you count out 20 but hand him 17. He walks back inside for a second before coming back with a similar looking man, only older. The man looks you up and down like he’s plotting something “yeah she works”. You look down at his hands, there were no ingredients in sight just a rope. The old man looks down the ally “shi-“ before you can react the older one grabs you trying to pull you in the house.

You punch him in the face, making him lose his grip on you. You fall back on the concrete hard, You try to get up but slip on the wet ground. Before you can try to get up again, a fist connects to your face making the side of your face throb. The younger one grabs your arms, trying to tie you up. “Please no” you scream attempting to kick the older one away, “Stop moving Bitch!” the younger one yells trying to knot the rope. You kick the older one again and miss. He punches you again square in your jaw. You feel blood trickling down your lip and tears sting your eyes, “fuck you!” You scream, trying to kick as the older attempts to pull off your pants. Your shoe connects to his jaw.

“BITCH” he hissed, stumbling back he quickly picked up a large loose brick and smashing it against your leg at full force. You scream out in pain and everything goes black, amidst the darkness you swear you could hear Joel’s voices. When you wake up a couple of minutes later from the continuous rain droplets hitting your face.

Your eyelids feel heavy, and your head pounding, you realize Your arms are free. In the distance, You see Joel on top of one of the men, his fist connecting with his face over and over again. Slowly sitting up, you wipe your eyes, confused if what you were seeing was real.

As soon as you stand up completely, you wince in pain trying to keep your leg from giving out. Looking over, you see one of the men covered in blood in the doorway of the house. You couldn’t tell which one because of how badly his face was beaten in. In his pocket was your 17 ration cards, you bend down carefully yanking the blood covered cards out his pocket. “Cunt!” You say spitting at the unrecognizable face. You slowly stepped over the man and limp over to Joel, who was still punching the man. Instead of intervening you watched for a second as Joel punched him again and again and, again, without mercy not noticing your presence . You had never seen someone fight so ruthlessly for before you, and deep down you liked it.

You watched the rain carry the man's blood down into the cracks in the ground. Walking directly behind Joel, you finally grabbed his shoulder, “j- Joel, you can sto-“ suddenly you feel dizzy and you collapse. Joel instantly catches you, his blood hands gripping into your shirt.

He holds you in his arms for a minute, his shaking hand coming up to move away the bloody pieces of hair stuck on your face. “I thought I lost you” he quietly repeats, caressing your face for a second before hoisting you up in his arms and fire man carrying you away from the bloody scene.

~~~~

Two days have passed since the attack, you have probably been awake a total of 5 hours. Mostly in and out of consciousness, sleeping in bed and eating the little bits of food Joel brought you. Waking up you felt a bit better than yesterday, you decide to get up. Limping to the bathroom, you see yourself for the first time in the mirror since the attack. You walk closer to the mirror, slowly turning your head to examine your face and all its bruises. The whole right side of your face was partially swollen and bruised. Your lip had been busted, a big gash on it close to the corner.

You touched your lip to see if it had scabbed some. You wince, pulling your hand back in pain. You hear footsteps behind you and jump back, making your legs buckle. Joel quick grabs your waist, keeping you from falling. “It’s just me y/n, you’re ok” Joel says helping you regain your balance. “ Sorry I thought- never mind” you say letting out a tired sigh, you hold on to the bathroom sink for a better balance. When Joel see’s you're stabled, he finally lets go of you.

“You need to be in bed, your leg isn’t healed yet ”he says look at you with concern in his eyes. “ I thought I was feeling better” you laugh out, limping back towards the bed. “ I hate seeing you like this y/n” Joel says sitting down next to you, “ what do you mean I look great ”You say gesturing to your swollen face while positioning yourself up on some pillows. Joel lets out a small laugh “ at least you still got your humor” he states, grabbing the mug you gave him off the dresser before handing it to you.

“ At least…- what’s this ?” You ask looking down at the cup “it's coffee, to wake you up a bit” he says “thanks you” you whisper taking a sip the hot coffee stings your lip. There’s a beat of silence before he speaks,“ I should’ve been there earlier” Joel mumbles looking at you with tired eyes before wiping his face and sighing in his hands. “ There’s nothing else you could have done” you say, putting the coffee back down on the night stand.

“No, y/n There was… I followed you, it was late and raining, I didn’t want anything to happen, so I followed, when you passed the market I followed you to that alley. I saw you there smiling with that man a-and I don’t know what I thought but… I left you, I regretted and when I turned back I saw-”

He cuts himself off looking at the ground angry distorting his face, his fist balling up tight.

You don’t respond right away, letting the words sink in before you answer. You run your hand up the side of his face, resting it there.

“ Did you like it?” You ask, staring intently at Joel, “like what?” He asked confused. “Did you like beating them bloody?” you ask, eyes never leave his search for a reaction. “Y/N I-I Couldn’t control m-“ he says slowly shaking his head as thought about the incident in detail swirl through his mind.

“yes or no” you ask again plainly “yes, I did but-“ you cut him off quickly “good, they fucking deserved it” you say angrily.

“Why did you do it baby tell my why you did it, I wanna hear you say it” you say desperately want to hear Joel’s reasoning. “ When I saw you like that… it was like I couldn’t see or feel anything but anger, I hadn’t even realized how bad it was until I heard your voice calling for me“. He says look back at you with tired eyes “I thought I had lost another person I cared for, I never wanted you to see me like that” he says with another stressed filled sigh “they deserved it, if you hadn’t come when you did…”

You takes a deep breath before talking again “all I know is when I woke up, the people who had hurt me were hurting as well and I Revel in the thought, of them knowing you killed them for me, to protect me, when nobody else would. You did nothing wrong baby you protected me”

Joel doesn’t say anything, just leaves a lazy kiss on your lips. You deepen the kiss ignoring the pain, pulling him closer, Joel cups the back of your head and you straddle him. He breaks the kiss for a second to kiss your forehead “I don’t ever wanna feel like that again” he says pain straining his voice.

#joel the last of us #joel x reader #joel x black reader #last of us fan fiction #Joel #joel miller #Joel miller x reader #Joel miller x black reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x fem black reader #pedro pascal #Pedro #pedro pascal smut #Pedro pascal x black reader #Pedro pascal as Joel #Pedro pascal /joel miller x reader #lovrre

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