#if she gets injured or is hurting in any way? oh! she doesn’t have to go to school

[fic-dumpster]

How would bonten be like meeting your family? Would they get along or not or even expose some stuff by accident?

Tbh, I think something could happen and it doesn’t go as planned. Let’s pretend for this scenario that Doe has a family… 😂 . Anyway, Anonie… sorry it’s years late but here we are trying. I just rewrote this so I’ll edit it later!

Bonten x reader

WC: 1320

TW: Fluff, revers harem, sad attempt at comedy, crackfic, fb!Mochi, gun, sappy/cliche ending, kinda uh… weird. It’s a mess.

You’ve been preparing this week’s dinner for almost two months. Arranging everyone’s schedules and thinking of ways to explain to your family how you have… more than one partner.

It’s not that you didn’t want to tell your family about them. It’s just that the subject was never brought up before and your parents weren’t so concerned about prior relationships, but what you had right now was beginning to turn into something more serious.

So, yeah. Here you are waiting for your parents and the guys to arrive. Which turned into you having to distract your parents because nobody was home besides you and they were not picking up their phones.

You left messages to each one of them with phrases like…

“Sanzu Haruchiyo! I swear to whatever is holy to you that I will have you maimed and hanged when you get home!”

or

“Mikey!!! I will put all the sweets on the highest shelves and throw all the stools away! See how you’ll manage! And no boobs!”

or

“Kakucho? Baby? Please pick up… I’m worried.”

Well, you were fuming and trying your best to pretend everything was in order. Until you heard the door open and steps closing in. Finally someone!

But all your relief flew out of the window when you saw none other than Mochizuki Kanji walking towards you with a big smile on his face.

Oh, hell no… they were so dead. Each and every one of them was so dead.

“Honey!” You visibly tensed as you heard Mochi’s boisterous voice greet you like that.

“Mo-Mochi! Ho-honey!” And so playing along it was.

You were actually grateful at the end of the night. Mochi was such a great guy. You would have cried if you didn’t have to act too. He treated your family so nicely and your parents loved him.

Mochi had your dad enchanted with his baseball and stock market talk. Then your mom was so in love with him too. No complaints at the end. On the contrary, they were so proud of you for finally finding such a wonderful person.

As happy as you were for a successful dinner. You were internationally seething.

Once your parents left and the house was cleaned. You arched your eyebrow and directed an inquisitive look at Mochi.

“So?” You asked after a while.

“Something happened… I know, I know.” Mochi dragged his hands over his face and sighed. “You have every right to be mad, but let me ex—“

Just then, the sound of the door unlocking alerted you of their arrival, and multiple footsteps followed to confirm the quantity.

In a flash you had Mochi’s gun in hand, the poor man panicking after you and not even the devil himself could stop you now.

“Are any of you injured to the point of being at death’s door? Are you all alive and kicking?” You asked in a solemn voice. “Well?”

“We–we’re good…” said Kokonoi who was the closest to you watched a very worried Mochi stand behind you and shake his head in silence. Was he warning them not to do what?

“Good,” and with that, you pulled the gun that was too big for your hand.

A bunch of screams and alarmed voices came in from the seven men standing at your entrance.

“Baby— wait! Baby!”

“We– it’s not– Y/N!”

“Woah! Woah! Woah!”

“Y/N, put that down before you hurt yourself.”

So you took the safety off which earned you more screams and Sanzu hid behind Kokonoi, Rindou took cover in Ran’s back and Mikey was lost in the tumult of panicking men.

“Mochi why did you give her your gun!?!” Takeomi asked as he harshly pushed against the door by Sanzu trying to get as far away as possible from the barrel of your gun.

“I didn’t! She took it!”

“This is your fault!” Ran blamed it all on Sanzu. “You taught her how to use one! We were against it!”

“Shut up! All of you!” They all went quite deadly fast. “I had dinner with my boyfriend!” As you spoke, you moved the gun at each one of them and they all jumped back scared it would go off. Even Mikey was eyeing your shaking hand like a hawk. “So I don’t know who you all are! Go away!”

Again, you pointed the gun, they jumped and they also crushed Takeomi against the door for the tenth time. While the other screamed, Takeomi was grunting in pain at this point.

“Can we explain?” Kakucho asked with his hands up to show he surrendered.

“And you are?” You saw hurt flash in Kakucho’s eyes once your words were out, but you needed to stand your ground. They had done it this time. “Sure, explain unknown man.”

“But please can you put the gun down?” Kokonoi was sweating buckets from the way you waved the gun everywhere.

“I’m not gonna—“ and just like that it went off against the wall where the Haitani brothers stood. You heard Rindou screaming and Ran cursing every color of the rainbow.

You crossed eyes with each one of them and threw them a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, maybe I should put it down…” putting the safety back on, you handed it back to Mochi with a second apology in tow.

With your attention back to the group in your entrance you saw Rindou having a… moment…

“Oh my God! I almost died! Raaan! I saw my life flash through my eyes!” Rindou was crouched down hugging his brother’s leg. Said brother had a tired face on… like this was a common occurrence.

“Sanzu, this is your fault too,” Kokonoi added to the

“How is it my fault?!” Sanzu exclaimed with indignation and fury.

This calmed down after a bit. Reluctantly, you let them in and sat down to explain. You heard their excuses, the emergency at work and called bullshit until Mikey spoke last.

“We were scared.” He began with his signature seriousness and almost sad eyes. “Look at us. We aren’t the guys you take home to meet your mother.” As he kept talking, you saw how one by one they all turned their eyes away, sour looks and empty faces. One after another. “Mochi at least has the looks to pass as a normal civilian.”

You nodded, understanding where they were coming from. Pink, purple and white hair… tattoos all over their bodies… and scars… your heart broke for them. But your fury wasn’t gone just yet.

“And you think I care? You think I care what they think?” You stood up and walked over to Mikey, holding his shoulders tightly as you spoke. “If anyone, even my own family, speaks ill of any of you, I would have thrown them out. And never looked back. Understood? I… I have my own life here… a family… that we built together.”

Even if you wanted to add more to your speech, you weren’t able to. An avalanche of bodies suddenly rained down on you and the next thing Mikey saw was a cluster of bodies on his feet.

You could barely breathe under Rindou’s arm and probably Sanzu’s leg. Kakucho and Kokonoi tried to wrench them away but it was fruitless. Both were moaning and crying about the family they built with you. Ran facepalmed at his younger brother’s behavior but smiled nonetheless.

“Wait, where’s Takeomi?” You asked having not heard the man in a while.

“Here!” Everyone saw the eldest Bonten member at the kitchen counter with a first aid kit. “I’m just patching myself up.”

“But you said you weren’t injured?” You said from the floor and in between two sobbing men.

“I wasn’t…” Takeomi winced as he applied a bit more ointment. “yeah, having six people push you against a door was awful. 0/10 would not recommend.”

Meanwhile, Mochi cried in a corner as he saw his family happy together.

[jupejumble]

the youngest has a tv in her room (upstairs) while me and my other younger sister arent allowed to bring our phones to the basement (where our rooms are), and my parents claim they don’t have a favorite…

[miley1442111]

the problem with arguing

a/n: Hi, this is my first story, any constructive criticism is welcomed. This had not been properly edited nor read through because icba lmao :) also I wrote it for a fem!reader but I don't think there's much mention other than Jack calling reader 'mom' so... yeah :)

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader, platonic BAUteam x reader, motherly(If that's a word?)reader x teen!jack hotchner

summary: aaron and you are in a fight, but what happens when a meeting with a witness goes south?

warnings: criminal minds levels of violence, angst, fluff, couple fighting, reader in distress, reader getting injured, mentions of knives, mentions of being stabbed, mentions of being tied up, mentions of hospitals, mentions of killing, mentions of general injury, mentions of guns/shooting, minimal use of y/n.

1.6k + words.

“We’re here, we’ll update you if anything comes of it,” Morgan promises Hotch over the phone as we walk to the front porch of one of our witnesses. Something about his story is messed up and we were the unlucky ones who had to go talk to him. It’s a pretty house I guess, a little expensive for what a 26 year old man could afford, and what he would want to buy. It’s all fifties style, the entire estate is. Big-enough bungalows with pastel walls and inviting doors with a small porch, just enough for the entry-way and a chair. I knock on the door, exhausted from the past 72 hours. Aaron and I got in a fight before we got to Ohio, it was unnecessary, but we fought all the same. He was mad at me for giving Jack advice that led to a fight between them. I just wanted to kiss and make up 3 days ago but he won’t budge. Maybe it’s because he knows I’m right and doesn’t want to confront it or maybe it’s because I took it too far and overstepped. Jack calls me ‘mom’, I live with him, and Jack came to me for support, he wanted guidance and I gave him it. He was mad at his dad because he missed meeting his girlfriend. His girlfriend, Ava, was a lovely girl, I had been the one there when Jack brought her over for dinner, I was the one trying to suss out if they actually liked each other, and I was the one Jack sat down with for 2 hours after and told everything about her to. All because Aaron was too busy with paperwork in his study. Jack was hurt, which is difficult to do because he’s such an understanding 16 year-old boy. It was also hard because I saw both sides. I’ll be the first to admit that what Aaron did was wrong, but our job is hard and demanding, especially his since he’s the leader of our team… But Jack just wanted 2 hours of his time, not even, just a dinner. A dinner to meet his girlfriend, and Aaron still couldn’t make it. 

I knock again as I huff. 

“Everything alright?” Morgan asks, the regular playful glint in his eye. 

“Tired, mad, over this job. You?” I sigh. 

“Sounds about right,” He chuckles. “How’s Jack doing?” 

A smile spreads across my face. “He has a girlfriend,” Morgan’s face lights up in a smile. 

“My man,” He smirks and I chuckle. “You two met her yet?” 

My face drops again. “I have, Aaron… couldn’t make it to the dinner though. She’s lovely, perfect for Jack. It's so funny, it’s just opposites attract. Jack is so sporty and outspoken and she’s one of the quieter, more into her studies kind of person.” 

The door swings open and we’re met with David, our witness. 

“You two know what time it is?” He yawns. 

“Oh trust us, we know,” Morgan sighs. “Can we ask you a few more questions?” 

“It’s 10pm at night? Can’t this wait ‘till the morning?”

“It’ll only take a few minutes,” I reassure. 

He looks between us for a moment, then sighs. “Quickly.”

We walk inside and are immediately hit with an awful smell. I know that smell. That’s when I see it, a body.

And that’s when it all goes black. 

I wake up in a new room, tied to a chair. I don’t see Derrick anywhere. I don’t see David anywhere. I’m all alone in this grey room. I don’t see a door but I notice a camera, and a screen in front of me. I see Penelope on the screen, then a sign above it with “Don’t make noise” scribbled. I look to my left and see a plastic window, I see Morgan through it, tied up too. He sees me. 

“Y/n? Y/n?! Where are you?” Penelope squeals. I shake my head and she picks up her phone and tries calling mine, it rings and I feel something go into my side. I scream out in pain as I see the blood start trickling out of me. Penelope drops her phone, then picks it up, dialling someone else’s number. 

I get switched to a joint call with Penelope, and the rest of the team, excluding Aaron. 

“Y/n?” Spencer asks and I nod, sobbing in pain. Spencer runs off-screen, leaving Jj and Emily to stare in horror at me.

Spencer comes back with Aaron and we make eye-contact through the screen, and he starts breaking. He’s shouting orders at the policemen in the precinct, he’s shouting orders at the team, and he’s trying not to cry. I know that. I also know I’m the only one who knows that. He hides it pretty well but not from me, not after all of our years together. His eyes squint, his eyebrows furrow more than usual, he starts biting at the skin around his nails. 

“We’re coming to find you. We will find you,” he promises me. I nod slowly as the pain in my side becomes unbearable as the knife is pulled out. 

“Is Morgan with you?” Emily asks and I nod as I bite my lip until it bleeds to stop myself from making too much noise. 

“Is he in the room with you?” Spencer asks. 

I shake my head no. After what feels like an eternity of yes or no questions, they think they’ve located us.I hear banging on the door and then it opens. Spencer is standing there with an entire Swat team behind him. I shake my head to tell them to not make noise but they talk anyway and another knife is put into my leg, I don’t have the strength to stay quiet this time and another finds its way into my arm. I pass out. 

I wake up in a hospital bed, an IV in my arm, Aaron on one side and Jack on the other. Aaron’s asleep in a chair on my left, I grimace, knowing his back will hurt. 

“Mom?!” Jack exclaims as he sees me open my eyes. “Mom!” His eyes fill with tears as he gets up and wraps his arms around me on the bed. 

“Jack,” I sigh in relief. 

“You’re okay! You’re awake!” He smiles brightly, happy that I’m alive. 

Aaron wakes up from the commotion and rushes to my side. “Honey?” He takes my hand and squeezes. “You’re okay.”

I smile at both of them. 

“I’ll go get the doctor,” Jack smiles and he rushes off to find a doctor. 

“Honey I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have-” He starts but I cut him off. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he sighs, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Don’t go all soft now Aaron,” I joke. 

“You make me soft,” He smiles and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. 

Jack comes back in with a doctor. She tells me that I lost a lot of blood and that I will be out of the field for a few months, with 2 weeks of mandatory bedrest, then 4 weeks of physical therapy. 

The next day, the team come in to visit. 

“Hey,” Spencer smiles, walking in first. I’ve always been close to Spencer, he’s always felt like a little brother to me. 

“Hey,” I smile and wince when I hug him, but I know it’s worth it. The rest of the team filter in, smiles on their faces.“So what happened after I went out?”

“Well, they got me, no injuries apart from a concussion,” Morgan says. 

“We got the guy-” Emily starts.

“Aaron got the guy,” Spencer interrupts. “He saw him and just shot him-”

“And then he beat the crap out of him,” Jj says. “It was pretty intense.”

I nod along as they tell me the story, and then we just talk about whatever until Aaron comes in and says visiting hours are over. Spencer leaves me a few more books to read and Jj brings Jack to Ava’s house for the night. Aaron walks in with my dinner on a tray. 

“Hungry?” He smiles. 

“You shot someone for me?” I ask as he places my tray down.

“Yes.”

I roll my eyes and smile at him. “Is he alive?”

“No.” 

My face drops. “Oh.” 

“It was the combined bleeding and head trauma that killed him.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I did.” 

I look at my food. “I understand you wanted to protect me-”

“I did that because he doesn’t get to live after doing this to you. Honey, you and Jack are the most important people in my life and I would do anything if it meant that you were safe and sound. Do you want to know how it felt to have what could’ve been my last words to you be ‘stop bothering me’? I was an asshole to you over the Jack situation because I knew you were right. I knew it wasn’t fair to not go to dinner when I was in the house. I knew it was important and it just felt too real. It felt like he was growing up and I just couldn’t take it because I missed so much of his childhood! So I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry that I said everything I said and did what I did, but I am not sorry about hurting that fucking monster,” He takes a deep breath. “Now eat up, it’ll go cold.”

“I love you Aaron, it’s ok. It wasn’t your fault, being a parents is hard.” 

His eyes fill with tears and he looks at me like an injured puppy. 

“Come here,” I smile and move over, allowing room for him to sit with me. He climbs into bed beside me and wraps his arms around me, being careful of my wounds. 

“I love you,” he whispers as I slowly eat my food. 

“I love you too.”

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — TEEN DAD! GOJO x FEM READER

When Megumi gets injured on a mission, you realize you’re not capable of taking care of a child.

wc — 1.8k

tags — misunderstandings; self doubt; the pitfalls of teenage parenting when you’re all child soldiers; mild angst with a happy ending; happens post sometimes a family is you, teen dad Gojo, and the six year old child he accidentally orphaned, part I of teen dad gojoverse, in which you and Gojo raise Megumi together. 

You shove Megumi into his arms, a bundle of bloody black fabric and dead weight. Gojo doesn’t stumble - he never does - but it’s a close call as he instinctively wraps his arms around whatever you’ve pushed onto him. 

“Teleport! Teleport!” You’re so frantic you’re incoherent. It takes a full minute, a minute you don’t have, before you realize that you can’t just say things. Gojo, as invincible as he is, can’t read your mind. You have to explain what’s going on, but how can you focus when Megumi is bleeding out? His little face is growing paler and paler by the second. 

His hands are so tiny. Why is that the only thing you can focus on? They’re grasping the front of Gojo’s jacket for dear life as he coughs weakly. 

“Teleport him back to HQ! Get Shoko!” 

You resist the urge to shake Gojo by his lapels, slap some sense into him. It would only hurt Megumi. Why won’t he move?

“I can’t!”

“What do you mean you can’t? Go! He’s losing so much blood, you have to go now!” 

You know you’re getting hysterical, but Megumi is dying right in front of you. 

“I can’t teleport! There are conditions-“ 

“He’s going to die!” 

“Stop- I need to think!” 

In the back of your head, you can hear Shoko telling you in that cool and detached tone of hers that you’re hyperventilating. 

Look, she says, you see that? You’re breathing too quickly. You feel lightheaded, right? 

Gojo spreads his jacket out on the ground of the forest. “Help me get him ready. I’m going to sew up the cut.” 

“Let me-“ 

“I’ll do it. I’ve done Getou’s before. You just focus on keeping him breathing.” 

You can do that. 

Hunched over Megumi’s body, Gojo gets to work. He looks so frail, spread on the grass with only Gojo’s jacket beneath him. His eyes are normally dark, but they’re blacker with pain, his pupils swallowing up his irises. 

The first puncture of the needle makes him wail before he slaps his hand over his mouth. You peel it back and make vaguely soothing noises, trying to be comforting. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you murmur, letting him rest his head in your lap.

“You can scream, Megumi. I know it hurts. Oh, honey, I know. I know.” He’s making this face that agonizes you. His nose is all scrunched up as he clenches his jaw. He’s the type of kid that would rather chew up his suffering and swallow it back down then let anyone see it. 

This happened on your watch. 

Sick self hatred rises in your throat. 

Gojo would’ve never let anything happen to Megumi. 

He whimpers quietly and you flinch. Without even thinking of it, you reach for his hand. You force yourself not to tremble. You’re an adult. It’s your responsibility not to scare him like that. 

His eyes are closed as Gojo grimly works the needle through, but there’s a jump in his frantic heartbeat, as tiny as a rabbit’s. You can detect it through the pulsing vein in his wrist, funneling blood to the injury only to waste it on air. 

He’s such a brave kid - your brave little boy. You smooth his sticky wet hair back from his face, damp with sweat. He moans in pain and twists away. Your heart crumples. 

It takes so much for him to be vocal about anything that hurts him. How much pain must he be in?

“Gojo,” you say. 

“I’m trying!” 

You know. Going any faster is likely to have dangerous consequences. This is the only way. How cruel. You have to hurt him to help him, and isn’t that just the story of your parenthood? 

You curl around him, protective as if your body can shield him from his own body working against itself. The more blood he loses, the harder his body fights to keep him alive. 

It’s an infinitely long minute before Gojo proclaims the grim deed finished. Megumi had passed out long beforehand, his death grip on your fingers slackening as the pain pushed him into nothingness. 

He wakes up on the long drive back to campus. Ijichi has never bent so many speeding limits in his life. Normally a careful driver, he shoots furtive looks at the kid staining his back seats red. You can feel his judgment of what kind of parent you are settling over you. 

Shoko must be thinking the same thing as she patches Megumi up in your kitchen. Her reverse cursed technique seals the cut up in seconds flat, though a scar remains, puckering the flesh of his forearm. 

“Just like Utahime,” Gojo tells him, pinching his cheek. “You didn’t cry either, so you’re better than her.” 

“Don’t talk about your seniors like that,” you say absentmindedly, though your mind could not be further from disciplining Gojo for his poor behavior. 

You can’t send Megumi to the Zenins. You know what they’d do to a sweet kid like him. They’d turn him into a monster like his father. You shudder, thinking of the creature from your nightmares who had stolen the life of a sixteen year old girl, and nearly taken Gojo with him. You could never let them do that to Megumi. They probably wouldn’t take care of Tsumiki either, unless to hold her over his head. But just because they aren’t fit caretakers doesn’t mean you are. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.” 

“Hey.” 

Gojo’s been trying to get your attention for who knows how long. When he sees that he finally has it, he sends Megumi off to bed and jerks his thumb at the door. Wordlessly, you follow him to the porch. It’s dimly lit from a singular overhead bulb without a covering. The two of you stand in a circle of light, the night outside pressing in against the walls of your home. 

“What is it?” He says impatiently. “I fixed everything, didn’t I? Why are you still upset?” 

“It’s not you,” you say. It’s so cliche, but what else is there to say? “It’s my fault.” 

“Don’t,” he says softly. 

You pull your hand back when he tries to take it. There’s a perverse sense of satisfaction in denying both of you what you want. You don’t deserve this. 

He’s silent for a long time. You let the silence stew, determined to outlast him. Quickly, it becomes clear who has the upper hand. You shift from side to side, nervous and tense, while he just waits with his hands shoved in his pockets. When you finally look over, he’s wearing his sunglasses again. His hair glows under the porch light, attracting moths. “Finally felt like playing nice?” 

He’s attractive when he’s mean. You hate that about him, the way the cruel twist of his mouth ties knots into your stomach. It would all be easier if you could hate him, but everything he does only makes you love him more. 

What a twisted little family you’ve built for yourself. 

He sighs. “Stop that. Don’t-“ he waves his hand in your general direction in frustration. “You always do that. It’s not your fault.” 

“He needs a real parent, Gojo. I couldn’t protect him.” 

“I was there too,” he says. “You don’t see me agonizing over my mistakes. It happens.” 

What mistake, you think bitterly. Gojo’s only fault is trusting you with Megumi. He’s the strongest. If it was him, nothing would’ve happened. 

“It wasn’t your mistake. It was mine. If I hadn’t been there, everything would have been fine.” 

“Again?” Gojo says quietly. 

It’s a forceful reminder of how much you sound like Getou right now. He never recovered from what that monster - Megumi’s father - did to him. Even now, your class lives with the scars of that day. Gojo’s face is wistful for a brief moment, deluged by memories. Then it’s gone, wiped from his expression like it had never been there. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you say, wondering if it’s too late to take it back.  

Gojo never falters. He’s unreasonable and childish, but he’s as solid as stone. You’ve watched him shoulder every single burden he’s ever been asked to carry since he was a child, and now he’s taken on one more. You promised Gojo that you would watch his back, regardless of whether he needed you or not. The words you spoke in a fit of anger and self pity bring you regret now. Weakness isn’t just failing to shield Megumi from all the dangers of sorcery that you wish you and Gojo had been protected from. Weakness is running away when it gets hard. 

Megumi’s your baby. 

You’re not going to give him up. 

A step forward has you pressing into Gojo’s space. He doesn’t yield, watching you with those ancient eyes. 

“I know it’ll only get harder, but it has to be us, right? Who else will keep him safe from the Zenins? I won’t leave, Gojo. I promise.” 

His relieved expression contrasts with his smug words. There’s a crooked smile on his face when he says, “I knew you wouldn’t just abandon us. You think Megumi wants to stay with me? You’re the one keeping him here.” 

“I get it,” you smack his arm. “No need for flattery. I’m with you until the end.” 

“I’m not kidding,” he protests. “There’s no universe in which Megumi likes me more than you.” 

How can you stay upset when he looks so proud of himself for finally figuring out the right thing to say to get you to stay? 

“He doesn’t,” you insist. 

Gojo rolls his eyes. “Don’t lie to me. Here, I’ll prove it.” 

It’s not uncommon for Gojo to put Megumi to bed. In fact, it’s a chore he fights you for. It’s probably one of his favorite parts of having Megumi around. He likes telling stories, and surprisingly enough, he’s good at it. He gives each character its own voice. More often than not, he ends up as invested in the bedtime story as Megumi is. Tonight, when he closes the book, he doesn’t leave. The soft light of the lamp on the bedside table shines through a crack in the door as Gojo and Megumi talk in hushed whispers. 

“I want my mom,” he says quietly. 

You lean against the door, pressing your head to the wood to try to keep yourself from falling to the ground. You want to try. You want to be there for him. But Megumi needs his mother, not some teenager who can’t even take control of her own life, much less a child’s. You’re all he has, though, and you have to make it work. You wish Mrs. Fushiguro was still alive, even if that means you would’ve never gotten to meet him. 

“Then ask her to come in,” Gojo says. 

Megumi makes a startled noise. You can almost see him burrowing into his blankets. 

“Go on,” Gojo coaxes. “Oh, come on. Don’t be shy now. You really won’t? Fine.” 

He calls to you. “Come in, sweetheart. Don’t keep us waiting.” 

The first thing you see when you open the door is Megumi’s head buried beneath the covers. Gojo’s trying to peel the sheets back. 

“What are you hiding for? I brought you your mom! You should be thanking me!”

“I hate you!” 

“I told you,” Gojo says. “He loves you more than me.”

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

So Hear My Voice Remind You Not to Bleed

Pairing: Daryl Dixon and Fem!Reader (pre-relationship)

Setting: Alexandria

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Injuries; angst

Summary: You're injured and benched, unable to go with Daryl on runs. When someone else is brought in to take your place, it does not go well.

A/N: for @darylsgarden. I had mixed feelings about this and had a couple of wonderful friends ( thank you @shadowcitrine and @enlightndone!🩵) read it and help me out. I hope it's at least close to what you were looking for 🩵

*gif is not mine

“It doesn’t even hurt.”

“Uh huh.” Daryl stopped preparing his bag and stepped across the living room, beckoning you with a wave of his hand. “Then walk over here without limpin’.” You narrowed your eyes and pushed yourself up off the couch, setting your jaw. 

You didn’t even make it a single step before falling forward with a choked off shout. 

And, of course, he was there to catch you as you crumbled. 

“Thought so.” He said with a hint of a smirk, depositing you back onto the couch. “Doc said ya gotta stay off’a it a couple’a weeks an’ that’s whatcha gonna do.” You whined and flopped around like a fish out of water. “Stop.” He chuckled, grabbing his bag. “Got paired up with someone who just got here ‘til ya get better.”

You stilled, brow creasing. “You got a new partner. Who said? Rick?”

Daryl continued to shoulder his bag, then his crossbow. “Deanna.” Why would Deanna step in? “Said she needs to see what the woman can do to help. She’s s’posed to be good with a bow but I dunno.”

Woman? Bow? You already didn’t like this suggestion. “Oh.” It was all you could think of to say. You didn’t want him to go before when you thought he was going out alone. Now that you knew he was going with a strange woman, you really didn’t want him to go. But why? Daryl was your best friend. You didn’t have any say in his comings and goings, and why should you? 

A knock on your door startled you out of your thoughts, Daryl watching you with a flat expression. 

“Guess that’s her. See ya.” He started toward the door, and you found yourself leaning nearly off the couch to see who was on the other side. When he opened it, your breath caught. 

Her long blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, a bow and quiver somehow anchored to her back. She was almost as tall as Daryl, lean and curvy in all the right places. Shit. She was gorgeous. 

“Uh, bye.” You muttered. Daryl didn’t even regard you. Maybe he hadn’t heard. Or maybe he was too busy ogling the beautiful woman in front of him. You couldn’t tell from his position. What you could see was the woman giving your run partner an appreciative once over before smiling. 

“Hey! You must be Daryl. I’m Angie.” She held out a hand, which the archer ignored with a grunt, pushing his way past her to walk to his bike. He was taking the bike? You sighed. You weren’t supposed to care. Daryl was your friend. Not your—he was your friend. 

And you just kept telling yourself that. 

Even a week later, when you were able to be up and about but not without difficulty, things felt—different. Daryl was always gone with Angie, like he was at that very moment. Now that you could actually move, you went about slowly cleaning up the house the two of you shared and started making something for dinner. You could leave Daryl’s in the oven for him to eat later. 

You had just finished your own when you heard the roar of the bike, saw the headlights illuminate the walls inside the dining room window, sending the shadows scattering. You found yourself excited to see him, to show him you were mobile. Hobbling over to the window, you felt silly for the ridiculous smile splitting your face but you didn’t feel that way for long. 

Angie was standing in front of Daryl at the bike, her bow in her hand at her side. He had already unlatched his crossbow from the back of the bike and had it across his back. She was smiling brightly with her perfect teeth and small creases next to her bright blue eyes, looking every bit like a model in the middle of the apocalypse. And Daryl—his lips were turned up on one side, a very Daryl smile that he gave when he was relaxed and in a good mood. 

You had known the man since the quarry and it had taken months to earn that smile. Angie was getting it in less than a week? 

You should have turned away. Spying on them wasn’t right. Daryl wouldn’t be pleased if he caught you, no matter what he was doing. He never liked feeling as though he was being watched too closely. 

You should have turned away but you didn’t. 

And then you wished you had. 

Angie reached out as she spoke, her words muffled and distorted through the glass. Her long, slender fingers wrapped around his bicep and squeezed, her thumb stroking the skin there. Daryl glanced at her hand but that was it. He didn’t ask her to remove it, didn’t step back to increase the distance between them. 

You didn’t want to admit that you were jealous. Even as your mind and heart both screamed only I can touch him that way—for two entirely different reasons—you refused to grant it a name. 

You couldn’t take anymore, limped away from the window and climbed the stairs with more than a few whimpers of pain. Daryl would usually help you to your room at night and back down in the mornings. But you didn’t want to see him, felt an anger toward him that was just as confusing as it was unjustified. You felt the same anger toward Angie, a woman you knew nothing about beyond the things Daryl would tell you. 

And he didn’t tell you a lot. 

You still should have been happy that Daryl both wanted to share something with you and that he had found someone that seemed to make him happy enough to gab about them, limited as it was. 

But you weren’t happy. 

It hurt. You hurt. Your heart felt constricted, wrapped in a cord that would tighten with each breath, faster and faster with each moment you spent thinking of him just outside, smiling at her. 

She didn’t deserve his smile. 

She hadn’t been there when Merle was left behind in Atlanta. She hadn’t been there when Sophia went missing and Daryl ran himself ragged trying to find her. She wasn’t the one to care for him after he’d fallen and was shot. She hadn’t been the one whose arms he’d finally chosen to let hold him when Merle died. She hadn’t run to him and felt his relief at being reunited after Terminus. She hadn’t walked along with him and coaxed him to drink just enough water to stay alive on the road. And she damn sure hadn’t stood up and told everyone he needed his own place in Alexandria so he wouldn’t feel more trapped than the gates already made him feel. 

That had been you. Always you. 

The door opened and closed downstairs, your name being called. You could hear the concern, knew it would be there at not finding you downstairs. You shimmied out of your jeans and climbed into bed—your back to the door—and just listened. Daryl methodically looked around, his voice carrying from different rooms throughout his search. Your room would be last because it would be the last place he’d think of you being. Not without his help. 

The oven door opened and closed, too quickly for him to grab the food. He was checking to make sure you had been there. Likely spotted your used dishes as well. You barely heard his boots on the stairs. Daryl, for all his height and muscle, moved like a spirit. Still, you knew his gait, what to listen for that signaled his approach. 

You drew up the comforter just as the soft knock came and a quiet call of Y/N? that you decided to not answer. The light from downstairs was pale in your room, starting on the floor and soon bathing your bed and walls. He didn’t say anything, simply closed the door and descended the stairs just as quietly. 

And somehow, that’s what made the tears come. 

There were two days of tense air in the house before Daryl’s next run. Your ankle had improved but you were still unable to put weight on it. Denise advised you to stay off of it but you had waved her off with a yeah yeah, absolutely zero intention of heeding her advice. 

When you arrived at your home, Angie was already leaning against Daryl’s bike like she belonged there. The sight infuriated you. Your attempt to pass her by was quickly foiled by the woman herself, her hand coming up to tap a finger on your shoulder. 

“It’s Y/N, right?” 

Sighing, you turned, sitting your bad foot up on the toe of your boot to keep the pressure from taking you down. “Yeah.”

“I’ve been dying to meet you. Daryl’s told me a lot about you.”

“Funny. He hasn’t told me much about you.” She didn’t seem fazed. I’m glad he’s so chatty with you. “Nice to meet you.” You said in place of your inner monologue. “Excuse me.” You started to turn when she stood straight. 

“Hey, uh—I was just wondering. Are you and him a thing?” She flipped her hair—braided today—over her shoulder. 

“A thing?” You knew exactly what she meant, but feigned ignorance. It was not a conversation you wanted to have. 

“Yeah, you know—a couple.”

Closing your eyes, you inhaled through your nose and exhaled through your mouth. “No. Why?” You didn’t even realize you had clenched your fists until her eyes flitted down and back up, forcing you to relax lest she tell Daryl you were being hostile toward her. 

“No reason. He’s a great guy, isn’t he? Handsome too.” Now she was just trying to push your buttons. 

“Yeah. The best, actually.” Don’t cry, don’t cry, do not cry. “Don’t hurt him.” You said flatly—a clear warning—and limped your way up the steps and inside. 

“Where ya been?” Daryl’s voice greeted you before the door had even closed. He was on the couch, lacing up his boots. You regarded him silently for a moment, allowing Angie’s words to sink in before setting your jaw and squaring your shoulders.

“I’m going with you today.”

His hands stilled, frozen for a moment before he sat back a little and placed his forearms over his knees. Piercing blue eyes scanned over you before settling on your bum ankle, the urge to place your foot flat on the floor too intense to disregard. “Nah. Y’ain’t ready.”

“You don’t get to make that call.” You snapped, more harshly than you had intended, but it got your point across. His eyes narrowed, his own jaw tightening.

“Maybe not, but I do get to say who goes with me an’ it ain’t you. Not today.” The archer went back to his boots while you gaped at him, lacing the right one up before getting to his feet and grabbing his things.

“Why not? Because suddenly Angie is better than me?”

Daryl scoffed. “Stop.” He went for the door, opening it a couple of inches before your palm landed flat against the surface and shoved it closed. “The hell ya doin’?!”

“I won't stop.” You mocked, drawing your lips back in a snarl. “You’ve been up her ass since you met her. Hardly ever here and when you are, you don’t even talk to me.” 

“The fuck you on ‘bout? We go on runs, get the things people need. Ya forget food an’ meds ain’t just down at the convenience store anymore, Y/N?” He pulled the door open again, and again, you pushed it shut. “Let go.” His voice had dropped into that serious tone, the warning before the anger.

“No. I’m going with you. I’ll let you open this door when you agree to that.” You stood straighter, tucking your lip between your teeth to stave off the whimper when you dared place your weight on the healing ankle. Of course, Daryl and his hyper awareness caught it.

“Guess it ain’t openin’ cause y’ain’t goin’.” He tried once more with the same result, this time letting his burdens fall to the floor in order to face you, nearly nose to nose. “Alright, ya got my attention.” He growled. It had been so long since he had spoken to you with such enmity, you couldn’t suppress a jarring flinch. 

Swallowing hard, you attempted to control the wobbling of your bottom lip. “Please, take me with you.”

“How many times I gotta say no?! Y’need to take your ass to that couch an’ let your damn ankle heal ‘fore I even think ‘bout lettin’ back out there.”

“Daryl.”

“No, Y/N.”

With a deep breath through your nose, you stepped backward, freeing up the space. “Fine. But maybe you should stay with Carol for a while when you get back.” Giving him your back, you didn’t bother to hide the limp. 

“Y’don’t mean that.” 

You needed to force yourself to keep walking when you heard the dejection in his tone. “I do.” You didn’t. “I don’t need you here.” You did. 

“Y/N—”

“Angie’s waiting.” You detoured at the last second and veered into the kitchen, seeing him from the corner of your eye, his hand lowering as if he had been reaching for you. Your heart was beating in your ankle by the time you were leaning heavily against the countertop. 

When the door closed, the floodgates opened. 

Two days. Daryl and Angie had been gone for two days. It wasn’t anything new to be held up on a run, but there were always close calls involved and you couldn’t imagine Daryl battling his way through herds or humans without you at his side. The two of you predicted one another’s movements, flowing and fighting together like a well oiled machine, always ending up victorious and on your way home. 

Did he have that with her now? 

“You know it’s not like that with the two of them, right?” Carol looked up from beneath her lashes as she chopped up the herbs and available vegetables for the stew. You knew it was more of an admonishing statement and not entirely a question.

“I don’t know that and neither do you.” You replied bitterly before tipping your glass to your lips. Carol smiled, that suspicious grin like she knew something you didn’t. 

“I know Daryl.” She picked up the cutting board and used the knife to scrape the occupying ingredients into the pot. “Why does it bother you so much anyway?”

“He’s my best friend.” The answer came out a little too quickly.

The other woman chuckled. “Is that all?” 

“Yes.” You countered almost gibingly. She only spared you an arched brow before turning to place the pot on the stove. You decided to ignore the intensely foreign fluttering in your chest and began spinning the glass between your palms. “Do you think they’re okay?”

“I—”

The knock at the door was sudden and urgent, repeating after only a few heartbeats. Your questioning expression met Carol’s. Spinning on the island stool, you eyed the door until it was opened. Carol’s hand on the edge tightened until her knuckles were white, but you could only make out quiet words and someone’s heavy breaths. Hobbling from your perch, you grabbed the door and pulled it back further. 

Angie was a mess, covered in dirt and blood and walker innards. “Y/N.” She panted. 

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. “Where’s Daryl?” You didn’t remember ducking beneath Carol’s arm or pushing past Angie. The pain in your ankle became a mere afterthought as you walked backwards toward the steps, awaiting information. 

“He’s in the infirmary. He’s asking for you.” 

You didn’t wait, running with only the slightest hitch in your step. Daryl was more important than any amount of discomfort. Your mind was running rampant with scenarios. What if he was bit? Dying? What if he died before you made it to him? The last thing you had said to him was that you didn’t need him. 

And it was such a lie. 

“Y/N, wait!”

You tried to ignore her, the infirmary within sight. You needed to get to him so that you could breathe again. 

When her hand caught your shoulder, you reacted almost violently, throwing her away from you and almost to the dirt. “What?!” You bellowed. “What could possibly be more important than Daryl right now?!”

“Lana is!” She answered quickly. “My Lana!” Breathing heavily, you shook your head and threw out your arms, a silent but gestured question. “My wife.”

You felt like the wind had been punched right out of you. “Your—your wife?” Damn you, Carol!

“Yeah. I think there’s been a huge misunderstanding.”

“You’re telling me.” You muttered, looking toward the infirmary with an expression of remorseful longing. 

“I asked those questions because—because that man is so obviously head over heels for you that it’s absurd he hasn’t made a move. I thought maybe—maybe I could push things along.” She rubbed at the back of her neck, her eyes brightening at something she saw just over your other shoulder. When you turned, a dark haired woman was making her way over, a toddler on her hip. “I just—he’s not much of a talker—until I mention you.” Another glance at the other woman. “I’m sorry.”

When she started to leave, you reached out a hand, the new information still pinballing around in your head. “I’m sorry.” You had treated her—thought of her—so unfairly, and still, she smiled at you. 

“Go on. He’s waiting for you.” And then she was walking away to kiss her wife before converting to a motherly gentleness, her lips pressed to her son’s forehead.

God, you were an asshole.

To her. 

To Daryl. 

Your ankle only received a moment to remind you it was still weak before you continued your journey to the infirmary. 

“M’fine! Quit proddin’ at me!”

The sound of his voice gave your heart permission to beat again. You stood at the door, listening to him argue with Denise until the woman finally gave up with a huff and a clang of metal. Opening the screen door, you limped inside with a hiss, the adrenaline draining out of you, no longer blanketing the pain. You would definitely be set back a week or so after this. 

Daryl was on the exam table, filthy and cut up, shirt open and left foot propped up on a pillow. You could have laughed at the irony if you weren’t so relieved at seeing him there and breathing and whole. Alive. 

His ranting came to an abrupt halt when he noticed you in the doorway, eyes softening. His entire body seemed to visibly relax with an audible exhale. 

“Y/N.”

You didn’t even try to control your quivering lip this time and rushed to cross the distance even with Denise scolding you in the background. 

Your arms wound around his neck and his around your back. “Daryl. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it—I didn’t—”

“S’fine. Know ya didn’t.” He whispered against your temple. Denise cleared her throat behind you and the weight of one of Daryl’s hands disappeared before returning with renewed pressure. The sound of the door opening and closing signaled that he had—in one way or another—told Denise to get lost. Neither of you spoke until you pressed your face into the side of his neck and began to sob. “Hey, m’okay. Just fell on my ass.”

“How?” You sniffled. 

“Window was in my way.”

You laughed wetly, his shoulders bouncing with a breathy chuckle of his own. 

“Idiot.” You chided, pulling away to wipe at your eyes. He watched you gather your bearings, blue eyes dancing between yours. “Are you really okay?”

“Yeah.” His hand was so gentle against your face, thumb sweeping over your cheek to wipe away the tears. “Need to talk to ya ‘bout Angie.”

You shook your head but placed your hand upon his so that he didn’t dare move it. “She beat you to it. I’m so sorry. I was being a jealous asshole.” He tilted his head and squinted. 

“Jealous cause I was spendin’ so much time ‘round her?” It was like he knew the answer that you hadn’t quite accepted as truth yourself. 

“Among other things.” You rubbed your lips together and ducked your head. Daryl hummed in question, his hand sliding down to your jaw, thumb absently stroking across your bottom lip. Your voice instantly decided to become lost in your throat, your mouth opening when his hand fell away. “Daryl, I—” You almost bolted, felt the insane urge to run begin to vibrate throughout your legs from a nervous twitch that started in your stomach and spread throughout your chest.

“That man is so obviously head over heels for you—”

Your lips were on his before your brain had even fully given the order for you to move, likely startling you just as much as it had him—if the sharp inhale through his nose was anything to go by. So, you stayed there, frozen with your mouth against his, neither of you moving until it was so awkward that you thought more than once of how great it would be for the earth to open up and swallow you. Humiliation coloring your cheeks, you began to pull away—and then his mouth moved over yours, his warm palm coming to rest on the side of your neck. Brilliant as you were, you pulled back in shock, wide eyes blinking at him. Cerulean pools were shimmering with horror and shame.

“That bad, huh?” He asked, dropping his hand and picking at a patch of dry skin on his palm. His eyes lowered to follow the movement.

“No!” You blurted. Daryl actually flinched and reeled back. “No, no. It wasn’t—there’s no way it could be—ah, fuck it.” Your hands cupped either side of his face, pulling him to meet you in the middle. There was no hesitance on either side, mouths moving, tongues dancing, a delicate exploration of new territory, both literally and figuratively. His hands settled on your ribs, fingers flexing, trying to pull you closer when there was already so little space between you. 

When you parted, it wasn’t from a lack of oxygen, but from Daryl attempting to alter the angle, forgetting that you were no longer alone in the land of bum ankles.

“Ow, ow, ow!”

You pulled away and jumped back, hands in the air to ensure he knew that you were no longer touching him—as if he weren’t already missing it. “What? What happened?”

“Ankle.” He hissed, gingerly placing his foot back on the pillow. Once the pain had ebbed, he chuckled and beckoned you back over with a wave. “Looks like we’ll both be trapped at home, sunshine.”

“There are worse things.” You brushed a strand of hair away from his face. “We have to talk about this.” You knew you sounded scared, and you were. Everything had just changed in the blink of an eye, the man you knew as your best friend had just suddenly become more, and it was terrifyingly exciting.

“Yeah, I know. Couch ain’t big enough for both’a our lame asses.”

You giggled and shook your head. “Guess it’s off to Carol’s extra bedroom.” When he arched a dark brow, you etched the most serious expression you could summon onto your face. “Strictly for logical reasoning, Mr. Dixon. We can’t climb stairs. She has one bedroom on the first floor. Lecher.” 

“First time I been called that.” He gave you that smile, the one that was so special, and seeing it then, you realized that he hadn’t given Angie that smile at all. It was yours and yours alone.

And you’d need to thank the gorgeous woman with the bow.

[corroded-hellfire]

Prompt Day 12: Ow!

Word Count: 999

Rating: T

Pairing: Eddie x Reader

CW: descriptions of sex

Summary: Eddie explains how he injured his wrist, much to your embarrassment

@corrodedcoffinfest

“This is going to be awful,” you complain, sliding down in your seat at the lunch table. 

With a sigh, you reach up and rub a hand over your face.

Eddie chuckles and nudges your ankle with his booted foot under the table. You move your hand to nervously tug on the bottom of the black beanie you’re wearing—or rather, Eddie’s black beanie.

“Oh, relax,” he says. 

Letting your hand drop, you give your boyfriend a pointed glare. 

“You do realize I’m a part of this, too?” you ask.

“Babe,” Eddie groans, letting his head fall backwards, “they know we have sex.”

There’s no use arguing with him when he presents you with facts, so you cross your arms over your chest and sit up straighter in your chair. Out of the corner of your eye you can see Eddie smirking. He finds this way funnier than it is. 

“Mac and cheese,” Gareth sing-songs as he sets his tray down across from you. “Mmm.”

“Can’t believe this is the third day in a row they’re serving meatloaf,” Jeff complains, obviously far less excited about his lunch. “I’m pretty sure this should have gone bad by now.”

“I think it did,” Frank adds, pulling out the chair next to you. The same offending meat is on his plate, and you wrinkle your nose up at the smell.

Eddie, the master of waiting for just the right moment, lets the guys dig into their food before he drops the bombshell on them.

“Well, gentlemen, I am afraid I have some unfortunate news.”

“Wassup?” Gareth asks through a mouth full of macaroni. 

The three Hellfire members expect Eddie to tell them, so none bother looking up from their food. Your boyfriend gives them a few seconds, but when none of them lift their heads, he pointedly clears his throat. 

“Ahem.”

Eddie makes sure all three sets of eyes are on him before he lifts his hand up from under the table and unceremoniously drops it down, the white cast landing with a thud. 

“What happened?” Jeff asks.

“Is that your—dude, that’s your right hand! How are you gonna play guitar?!” Gareth has seemingly forgotten about his excitement over his meal. 

“I said it was unfortunate,” Eddie says.

“Can you still DM?” Frank asks.

Letting out a sigh, you pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers. Sometimes you wish you weren’t the only girl at this table.

“‘Course,” Eddie answers, waving his uninjured hand dismissively.

“What happened?” Jeff asks again.

Eddie lets out a snort of laughter and his eyes dart to you. The weight of your friends’ stares is hard to ignore. Face already heating up, you rub a hand over your forehead and avoid looking at any of them. The fabric of the beanie rolls up at your repeated motions, so you tug it back down and cross your arms once more. 

“So,” Eddie starts, a mischievous smile on his face as he leans on the table, “I’m laying in bed, on my back—”

“Oh God,” Gareth interrupts. “Did you actually injure your wrist from jerking off?”

“Anyway, I’m on my back and we’re, ya know, fucking.”

There’s a small sense of relief when he doesn’t say “she was riding me” out loud.

“And I flip us so I’m on top,” Eddie continues. “My knee must’ve landed on a soft spot when I got upright, because suddenly there’s a loud crack and the bottom left corner of my bed collapses.”

“Oh fuck, so you fell off and hurt your wrist?” Frank asks.

“Nope,” you say, popping the “p”. 

“I ignored it,” Eddie says with a laugh, “and just kept going. Since all my blood was down south, it didn't cross my mind that the whole frame holding the mattress up was wrecked. So, at one point I went to put my weight on my right hand near the middle of the bed. Next thing I know, her eyes get as wide as a goddamn owl’s, and right where my hand is gives out and we’re falling.” Eddie pauses to laugh, both at the memory and at the truth in what he says next. “I didn’t care, I still didn’t stop. And neither did she.” At this, Eddie throws you a wink and your face feels hot as a flame. 

“Okay Aesop, get on with it,” you say. 

“My hand is still on the same spot on the mattress and with the angle we’re tilted at now, I put even more weight on my hand so I can use the momentum to my advantage.”

The looks of interest on the guys’ faces makes you wish the ground would open and swallow you whole. They look enraptured by your sex tale. 

“I guess I overestimated my own strength,” Eddie says with a shrug.

“Or you had too much weight on your wrist,” you mumble under your breath.

“And I,” Eddie mimes thrusting his hips and you hide your face in your hands, “which was too much for my arm and it gave out. I fell smack down, my head knocks right against hers, and my wrist twists beneath me before I land on it with most of my body weight.”

The guys all wince as you replay the memory in your mind.

“So,” Eddie concludes with a dramatic sigh, “that is the story of my sex injury.”

Gareth begins a sarcastic slow clap, in which Jeff and Frank join. 

Despite the smile on your face, you complain to the guys, “You’re all idiots.”

The guys cease their applause and Jeff nods his head at you.

“You escaped unharmed even with this hard head falling on you?” he asks.

You take a deep breath. All four guys at the table watch as you push the beanie up to expose a quarter-sized bump that’s varying shades of pink and purple as it starts to heal.

Jeff sighs and picks his fork back up.

“I knew he had a hard head.” 

[rogueddie]

Disabled Steve / Eddie Fics

Important: READ THE TAGS! Also, leave a comment and kudos! These fics are amazing and I love them and I hope y'all do too 🦻

give me a sign

findmeinthewychelm

It was sweet torture the way Steve was pining over him. Robin was sick of listening to him talk about Eddie, but she also hadn’t stopped him yet.

Words : 4,235 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : General Audiences

AO3 : x

what would you trade the pain for (i'm not sure)

Library_of_Gage

Steve doesn't bother anyone with his chronic pain; it's something he'd rather keep to himself. And then it spikes in the Upside Down, in front of Eddie Munson, and Steve slowly starts to learn that, sometimes, sharing what hurts does help.

Words : 8,230 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

Our Love is Shown in the Letting Go

Xxbottlecapxx

Steve’s mother comes home and has to deal with the fact that she has no idea who her son is, and maybe never will.

Words : 10,189 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Not Rated

AO3 : x

Who Am I to Say What Any of This Means?

IndigoFudge

Eddie’s eyebrows are raised. He’s speaking deliberately. “My first grade teacher set up a meeting with Wayne and told him she thought I had autism. So Wayne took me to the doctors and it turned out she was right.”

He is still looking at Steve. Oh. Steve’s been staring at him like an idiot for forty seconds instead of acknowledging this important, incredibly personal detail that he has just shared. Steve remembers eye contact––one, two, three––then answers. “That’s cool.”

“Steve,” Eddie says, carefully. “Have you ever been tested? Because I’ve been noticing… When I look at you, I kinda see some signs.”

Words : 7,371 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

she'll know me crazy, soothe me daily (better yet, she wouldn't care)

jewishrat420

Eddie doesn’t really cry about this anymore. He’s long since shed his own personal tears of pity, spent enough time mourning a different life. He’s accepted it, for the most part, doesn’t really give a shit about being normal or whatever. No one’s normal.

But this…Eddie’s not used to this. He’s never had someone hold his face in their hands, look him dead in the eyes and say, “Eddie Munson. For better or for worse, and fuck, I know this is worse, I want to know you.”

Words : 3,988 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

the beginning of a bad joke

alligator_writes

At the beginning of his rant, lecture, whatever, Hottie stares right at him. He has a really intense stare. Pretty brown eyes set in a prettier face with even prettier hair on top of his head. Eddie gets distracted by all that pretty and by trying to make his point.

And he doesn’t notice until halfway through that Hottie isn’t looking at him anymore. He’s looking at his friend.

Eddie looks at her, too. Looks at her confused and focused expression. Looks at her hands moving rapidly.

Oh. G-d.

Hottie’s deaf, isn’t he?

Words : 7,083 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

I Took The Good Times, I’ll Take The Bad Times (I Take You Just The Way You Are)

steddieeddie

In 1984, Eddie Munson told Steve he was going to marry him one day laying in the quiet confines of Steve’s room.

In 1985, they broke up. It wasn’t because they wanted to, but because Steve thought they had to. They spent almost an entire year apart, hurting, wondering about what could have been.

In 1986, Steve Harrington was almost fatally injured in the final attack against The Upside Down, against Vecna. He spent seventy six days comatose, and then almost an entire year in the hospital learning how to be a person again. He learns how to open and close his hands, hold things, and how to feed himself again. Steve learns how to stand, how to walk, going from walker to cane by the time he is allowed to go home.

In 1987, he did just that. He goes home.

It was a slow process. Way slower than Steve wanted it to be, but it was worth it.

Sure, his hands were never going to work the same, there was constant pain in his arms and left leg, and he would never walk without a cane, but at least he’s alive.

He made it.

That was what mattered.

Words : 30,101 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

[animeyanderelover]

For my Second request, of 10 random yandere of your choosing, being involved with a gang member female s/o who hides the fact she’s part of another gang from her yandere. She hides the fact she’s part of a gang due to several reasons: she feels a sense of connection and community with her gang, she feels obligated to be loyal to them as her gang had saved her and accepted her, she doesn’t want to be judged by her yandere that she is a part of a gang, and she knows with how stubborn/passionate their yandere is they will try to get involved and she wants to avoid that. With this reasons in mind, she tries to hide it, however, she sucks at lying, so whenever she gets injured, she basically tells them the truth but skips over the fact that since she’s part of a gang, she got it from fighting. But she’s says everything so cheerfully and obliviously, as if it’s no big deal. Such as “oh, this bruise on my arm? Some guy on a motorcycle tried to hit me on the head with a steel pipe, but I caught it (totally not the fact a rival gang member tried to jump Me)” or “oh my broken leg? That’s due to some guy trying to shank me at the side of the street, but don’t worry I kicked them to Valhalla!! (totally not from a group fight where a rival gang member played dirty)” It eventually reaches a point where she becomes hospitalized, but she cheerfully insists that she fell down the stairs, but the yandere by then already knows something is up.

I'm so sorry but this request is low-key Tokyo Revengers coded so this entire post is just characters from Tokyo Revengers. I only wrote about 7 characters since I've been under stress with my most recent exams so I hope that isn't too bad.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive relationship, obsession, clinginess, manipulation, bribery, violence, injuries, isolation, female s/o

Gang member s/o who sucks at lying

Hanagaki Takemichi

👊​You'd think being part of Toman and having been part of countless battles would have hardened him against violence, especially because he himself has tanked quite a lot of heavy punches and kicks in fights. Any trace of normality has been thrown out of the window ever since he discovered his ability to travel back in time and he has most certainly been misguided by believing that you could provide him with a lingering sense of regularity. Seriously, with the way his life has been shaping what was he even thinking? Normally someone who is on the easier spectrum of being portentially manipulated by his darling since he is a simp, Takemichi recognises occuring injuries you suffer from all too well. His heart always drops when you appear with a new broken limb or injury, though by now he at least doesn't collapse out of shock like he did the first time he saw your horrendous condition. He's seen those wounds before and he has been in a similar position as you before. You can't fool him this time, as lovesick as he may be.

👊​His initial reaction would be to beg you to stop with the way you are living but he is surprisingly self-reflective enough to realise after his initial panic that it would be quite hypocritical of him to ask you to leave your gang whilst he himself has risked his life multiple times for Toman before. To top it all, he knows just how stubborn and scary you can be if you are told to do something against your will, even he is frightened of you when you get mad though it's somewhat sexy too. He turns to people like Chifuyu and Draken to ask them about other gangs they know about besides Toman to figure out in which gang you are even in and as a Division Leader and essentially another head of Toman overall, he does what he can to ensure that you will never get into a fight with Toman and him. Whilst he hasn't seen you fight just yet, judging from how well you deal with injuries he can tell that you are quite robust but he'd rather get beaten up bloody before he has to see you getting hurt in front of him.

👊​He eventually breaks down when he receives news that you had to get hospitalised due to a recent brawl that escalated. He goes down on his knees, begging you to stop with this as he is mentally beating himself up for not having done more to prevent this from happening. Takemichi has a habit of thinking that he has to shield everything by himself as the time traveler and for that beats himself all the more up when something terrible happens as he sees it as his sole fault for not having done more. He starts gearing up to finally take direct action. His route is initially surprisingly diplomatic as he offers your gang to work together as he wants to protect you in future fights either himself or by knowing that there are capable guys he trust involved in the fight yet a rejection won't be accepted in his vocabulary. Always one prone to attempting to do everything on his own, he's probably going to ask for a fight with your leader, even if they are a better fighter than him. No matter how heavy their punches are though, he always gets back up, desperate for them to accept his conditions and not caring what happens to him in the process.

Sano Manjiro

🦶​There is no way to deteriorate Mikey's obsession into something leaning into his dark impulses faster than a darling as reckless as you. It is in a way almost laughable how oblivious you can be to the obvious signs of it all as you give him that carefree grin, reminiscent of the one he always has when he is in a relaxed and playful mood. Only that he does not reciprocate your grin, dark eyes widening as he looks at the cast plastered over your broken leg before dulling when you chirp cheerfully that a few guys ganged up on you. Your half-baked reassurance that you broke the nose of one of the guy and are responsible for a broken jaw of another one does not heal the growing hole in his heart. Instead he steps closer to you, hands grasping your shoulders in a tight hold as he asks you in a flat tone to tell him who did this to you, his grip tightening the longer he stares at the cast. You only get a few seconds to assure him that you dealt with them yourself before he cuts you off quickly. Answer his question. Who. Did. This. To. You.

🦶​Even Draken is astonished with the sheer outrageous lies you conjure up whenever a new bruise or cast appears on your body yet you insist cheerfully every time that it was a stupid coincidende or accident. It really isn't hard to deduce that you are also involved with a gang and brawl regularly with them and that knowledge only has Mikey seething with rage even more. His mind is filled with dark thoughts of murdering every piece of shit who kicked and punched you to the point where some members have caught him mumbling about his horrific fantasies, deeply stuck in his thoughts that he didn't even notice them standing there and looking at him mildly terrified. Another emotion that crawls up his spine after the revelation though is one that is a much sharper and stinging pain. Betrayal. Betrayal that you chose to keep your gang life a secret from him and betrayal that you chose them over him. He would have gladly let you join Toman if you would have asked him. Sure, he wouldn't have let you fight but he would have taken you with him anywhere. Why do you stay loyal to your gang still? He's your boyfriend...

🦶​Paranoia gets the best of him as he fears that you would choose them over him. It is a thought that dominates his heart and mind with fear and growing dark urges. Mikey normally is a person who doesn't want to show any weakness around others yet it is a different story with you. He demands of you to leave your gang and just join his instead so that you two can always be with each other and so that he can guarantee that no bastard harms you ever again yet it is when you firmly refuse that he snaps. Your rejection and affirmation of your loyalty to your gang essentially confirms his paranoia that you value them more than him and would drop him for them. With nothing able to hold him back, he drowns in his obsession and goes after your own gang with Toman, irrational to the point where no one can stop him. The final nail in the coffin is your hospitalisation that convinces him that your gang isn't even capable of protecting you. Toman assaults your gang whilst you lay in the hospital and Mikey takes on your leader, merciless and brutal even after they are down before he tells them with blank eyes that from now on you belong to his gang and that they'd do better to stay away from you.

Ryuguji Ken

🐉​Draken should technically be used to this all and he can't deny that this all is very reminiscent with experiences he was with another person in his life. Exhausting antics, a tendency to get into brutal fights and brush off all injuries despite their seriousness and a carefree grin always given to calm his nerves. It's like taking care of Mikey all over again yet the protective nature he has quickly tranform into an overprotective obsession with you as his darling. He's had his suspicions from a very early point on as he is well informed about gangs and the violent life they lead as the vice-president of Toman. Swollen eyes, broken limbs and other injuries you constantly have the next time he sees you quickly leads him to the conclusion that you must be involved with a gang yourself. Honestly, it really isn't hard to figure it out and he doesn't even know why you are so surprised when he presents you with his theory. Really, have you ever listened to yourself lying before? You're the worst person at lying he has ever met so far.

🐉​Whilst Draken won't demand of you to abandon your gang like Mikey does, he is not fully convinced to let you continue as you are doing either. He starts prying for more information and even if you do not want to tell him about certain aspects, it is rather easy for him to read you due to your inability to be convincing when you lie. It's by constantly questioning you without putting you under pressure by upholding a interested and caring facade that he is soon able to have a rather accurate picture about your gang and its members. That's when he starts using other ways to gather more intel about the individual members of your gang, mainly by letting members from Toman spy on them. All of that of course in secrecy as he wouldn't want to displease you as he's aware that you do not want to get him involved in your life. Draken on the other hand wants to figure out now how capable and loyal the people of your gang really are as you obviously view them in a subjective light and could never seriously criticise them.

🐉​His mind is made up when you land in the hospital with severe injuries from your last fight. His expression is unreadable as he visits you, dark eyes watching you as you muster a grin and tell him that everything is fine and you just fell down the stairs in an attempt to hide from him that you got into a rather intense fight this time before he interrupts you. He thinks it would be better for you to leave your gang. In a short fit of outrage, you nearly get out of bed but he quickly forces you back down and hisses at you to lay still or else your injuries will open up again. His gaze is firm though as he informs you that he doesn't think the members of your gang are good enough to survive gang life out there nor do they possess other qualities needed in his opinion. You're terribly stubborn and he knows that but he can't bear to watch you like this anymore. He will have to find a way to have you leave the gang or to come up with an idea how to break them off. Perhaps he should pay your leader a visit himself and show them just how silly their fantasies are. A good dose of genuine fear may finally help them realise just how dangerous the life of a gang not suited enough is in the streets out there...

Baji Keisuke

🖤​People like Chifuyu can only watch with eyes as wide as saucers as it is almost like watching two Bajis at once when you are around. The similarities between him and you are mindblowing and Baji himself isn't sure whether he should find this amusing or if he should be slightly concerned. Your grin is like a trademark, one that you always flash him even if there are stitches over your eyebrow or if multiple fingers of yours are bandaged. Baji on the other hand always turns up his sleeves whenever he sees your injuries, a feral grin of his own on his face that does little to hide his sparking anger as he asks you which bitch he has to pummel into the ground. The First Division Captain is strikingly possessive and protective and his concern mainly shown in his willingness to beat anyone up who he suspects to be responsible for your emotional or physical strain. He has never gotten a truthful answer from you though as you always come up with bullshit on the spot in hopes of calming him down.

🖤​Whilst Baji may lack in academical knowledge though, he is someone who has a sharp intellect and can understand things well outside of school. He suspects that there is something up that you don't want him to know about and it irritates him that you keep it from him. The irritation is quite visible on his face but he doesn't force you immediately to spit it out what you are keeping from him. As a countermeasure to the wounds you have received though, you find Baji taking the role of the guard dog for you whenever you go anywhere. He's far too stubborn to listen to you when you reassure him that you can spend time on your own without the need for him to protect you. The injuries pile up on you though and he feels more and more like wanting to murder someone as he starts pressuring you to tell him the truth only for you to remain silent. Chifuyu eventually brings up his idea that you may also be involved in a gang and fight with them as your injuries and your horrible lies would line up nicely with that theory.

🖤​Somehwere in his mind he can acknowledge your loyalty to your gang as he is nothing short of dedicated to Toman as well yet there is a double standard that becomes soon apparent. He'd rather have you take a step back from gang life as he deems you as too weak to continue. Far too often do you end up with wounds and injuries that he takes as proof that you are not good enough in fights and that belief is especially strengthened when you end up needing to stay for a longer time in the hospital due to your most recent injuries. Both of you get in an argument as neither of you backs off from their belief and it ultimately leaves Baji with no choice but solve things the way he knows best. With a good brawl. He seeks out your gang himself and challenges them to a fight. If he wins, he demands of them to disband and to not get involved in fights anymore. He's fully prepared to become the villain in your eyes, though that doesn't mean that he'll let you leave him. If you really wanna beat up people that bad though, he wouldn't mind jumping random guys in the streets with you. You look rather hot after all whilst beating someone up...

Mitsuya Takashi

🪡If there is one person in Toman who would see right through your lies even if you wouldn't be such a terrible liar, next to Draken obviously, it's Mitsuya. As level-headed and calm as he is, he serves as the counterpart to your reckless and occasionally feral behavior by attempting to calm you down and talking some sense into your brain. He can tell by simply observing you and taking notice of your injuries that you are part of a gang. Whilst Takashi is also a very essential part of Toman, he surprisingly enough isn't too keen on fighting unless it is absolutely needed which is why your willingness to constantly join the fights of your gang is something he is secretly displeased about. He may not outright scold you nor even let you know that he is already on about your secret that you try to cover with horrendeous lies yet he is already trying to make plans himself. As someone who is a subtle manipulator, Mitsuya gently coaxes you into revealing bits of information about your gang and the individual members every time you two meet.

🪡​Partially he is self-aware about the fact that you essentially do what lots of members in Toman would also do. Inherently he isn't completely against the loyalty and devotion you exhibit for your gang yet all the wounds and injuries you constantly suffer as a result hamper his patience and willingness to let you go on that way. You disregard your own health and body and merely brush it off as little scratches even if he reminds you sternly that one day you may not get away with only a broken leg or twenty stitches. Really, he doesn't want to be overbearing but how can he not end up being very overprotective when you yourself are so incapable of looking after yourself? It gets more noticable as time passes by and he essentially turns into the overly worried mother for you who constantly has to remind you to rest in bed or take it easy to not strain your already injured body. He offers all the help he can give though even if you reject it, he'll end up giving it to you anyways.

🪡​You do not know that yet but Mitsuya has actually already gotten in contact with some members of your gang out of concern for you yet it is when you end up in dire need of an operation that he finds himself confronting them with a much more serious disposition. This has gone too far. You could have died this time around. He demands of them to do some serious reflection on their ways and reminds them that they would stand no real chance if a bigger group would ever decide to take them on. A serious and level-headed composure can be rather frightening under the right circumstances and this is what happens in that moment as he also reveals nonchalantly that he has gotten his hand on some unsavory information that could end up fatal if given to the wrong people. He refrains from violence and instead goes with blackmailing for now, though perhaps his status as a Division Captain is already protection and intimidation enough. Perhaps it would be seen as dirty in the eyes of your gang and even yourself but Mitsuya would be open enough to admit that he has actually held back merely because you see those people as your friends and from what he has observed, they value you as well.

Matsuno Chifuyu

🟡​Chifuyu is the definition of loyal and sticks with you through thick and thin even if your antics threaten to drive him up the wall at times. Your whole demeanor reminds him very vividly of his own Division Captain and even Baji himself likes to make jokes about it when you spend time with Chifuyu. Truthfully spoken, it really isn't difficult to sense that there is something you are hiding with all the injuries that litter your body on some days. You deny it every single time as you come up with an explanation for every broken limb or every scar and stitch that you sport yet seem very unaware of the fact that your lies only fuel his suspicion further. Chifuyu is honestly not sure whether he should be baffled or pull at his hair in frustration whenever you present him with another excuse for an injury. Do you even know that you suck at lying or do you genuinely believe people to accept the lies that you offer? He's worried for you though even if you lie to him again and again and refuse to tell him the truth and those protective instincts push him to grow clingier, worried that with your careless behavior you might end up reopening some stitches.

🟡​He tolerates your bullshit for quite a while though even if he feels like a kicked puppy every time he attempts to ask you if you could tell him the truth only for you to dismiss it with yet another of your stupid lies. Chifuyu is honestly too good to you at times and he is actually self-aware of that but can't help himself. The longer this drags on though and the more serious your injuries get, the more he finds himself pushed closer to the edge. He knows, alright! He knows already that you must be involved in the gang life yourself but it is killing him that you don't let him in on it. He could help you. He could protect you! He's your boyfriend, for fuck's sake. Why are you locking him out? The habit of stalking you is solely born because you refuse to let him in on everything and it is via stalking that he also figures out who the other people belonging to your gang are. He hates to admit it but he feels a sense of anxiety as he realises just how loyal you are to them and wonders if he is just second place as he has entered your life after you had already met your gang.

🟡​He's witness to another violent fight between your gang and another one and when he realises that you are down and seriously injured, he rushes in and takes the beating for you from a member of the enemy gang. Even bruised and battered though, he puts your health before his own as he drives you to the hospital where he waits for hours on end before he can finally visit you. Even then you still dare to lie to him and that's when he breaks. He lashes emotionally out as tears run down his face. Are you serious?! You're still trying to lie to him?? Do you really think of him as that untrustworthy?? It's rare for him to let his emotions overwhelm him easily but it happens in that moment, the most prominent ones are betrayal and a doubtful fear that he really means less to you than your own gang. It's after his outburst that he is finally done with keeping up with your behavior as he reasons that he has in fact been too tolerant about everything. No wonder that you seem to take him for an idiot. He hasn't been assertive enough. That'll change from today on though...

Kokonoi Hajime

💴​Normally Kokonoi would love to mess around with his darling a bit since he can be a tad bit more malicious and sadistic at times yet it's those repetitive injuries that trigger a vulnerable and raw side out of him. Every time he spots you with new broken bones or he notices a freshly stitched wound of yours, his mind automatically flashes back to Akane in the hospital. There is probably no quicker way than to break him down faster than constantly appearing with new casts or stitches in front of him. There has never been a time where he hasn't demanded from you with narrowed eyes to tell him who did this to you so that he can arrange some things here and there to see it through that they never bother you again yet it is your unwillingness to tell him and always present him with a dumb lie of yours that always serves as fuel to the stirring inferno. Whether you see him as an idiot or merely try to hide something from him and just suck at lying, his anger only festers every time another lie leaves your lips.

💴​It really doesn't take long for Kokonoi to already know everything he needs to know and he is beyond unhappy. As someone whose obsession is one build one possessiveness and the desire to control his darling, everything you personify goes against his own wants. You are far too independent, recklessly throw yourself into brawls to defend the honor of your gang as your loyalty lies with them when it should belong to him and risk your own body and health as a result which seems to be a constant fear that has a vice-grip on his heart. He despises your antics and the grin you give him every time you end up with a new reminder of your most recent fight and act as if nothing happened at all. Do you seriously think you'll be fine or do you simply not care? Part of his ire is also turned against your gang though as he loathes them for many reasons. Not only does he see them as a threat to your safety but also as rivals he has to get rid of. He has to cut their ties with you and make you believe that they abandoned you so that he can swap roles with them and become the person you depend on.

💴​Money has always been something he could use to corrupt and buy people and he uses it in this situation as well. He hires thieves to work as spies for him and collect more information on the life your gang leads as well as digging up some dirt on individual gang members. Even if he finds none, he can always make up some stuff. As Kokonoi wants to break your trust in your own gang, he even attempts bribing them with money and manipulating them to abandon you. It's when he is informed that you were sent to the hospital and had to go through surgery that he finally loses composure when he visits you only to be greeted with that same cursed smile that you have been giving him since forever. Do you have a death wish or what?! He flips out for a few moments, hisses out words dripping with venom as he openly admits how he feels about your gang and directs some of his words against you as well. He won't let you risk your life for those people! He can't understand for the life of him what worth they could possibly have. You just wait, he will see it through that you will never see them again.

[izvmimi]

cw: set in both past and present. goofy but a bit of fluff. reader has a specified quirk. suggestive near the end.

Concentrate. Stop being impatient. You’re applying too little power, you won’t heal anything like that; you’re applying too much power, you’ll kill them! Slow down. Move more quickly, the sick and injured will keep coming. 

You bite your lip and pull your backpack closer to yourself as you think back to today’s lesson, both mentally and physically exhausted from the day before you. These internships are meant to push the limits of your Quirks, and you can imagine that all of your classmates are just as tired as you, but it’s hard for you to reconcile the fact that an old lady who keeps candy in her purse and smooches indiscriminately to heal injuries should be such a hardass to you. 

The tips of your fingers still tingle with the aftermath of transferring so much electricity towards them. Today, she had you try to practice transferring all of your energy from your toes to the palms of your hand and back, consecutively, and you still feel wobbly on your feet as you make your way home. It’s dark now and you’re a little lonely walking home alone, but your thoughts will keep your company as you walk through the streets. 

Joining the hero class late, you simply have to work harder, that’s all there is to it, you think. You don’t have the flashy quirks your peers do, no extreme power without blowback, no endless ice or fire or weapons, no explosions or gravity manipulation, no animals to come to your aid or ability to disappear and slip away. 

You have to be creative with your Quirk as best you can if you want to be of any use. 

You’re about 15 minutes away from your home by now and check your cell phone. There are messages from Momo where she’s trying her hardest to convince you that there’s some utility in makeup commercials for the greatest good, and you try to placate her as best you can as the good friend you are. Your friend from the support course has also sent you a wide-eyed orange cat emoji with the aim to check in since you’ve been quiet and you smile and send a signal that you’re alive with a tongue out emoji. You look at your screen for a few more seconds and don’t get an immediate reply but smile to yourself anyway before slipping your phone in your pocket.

As you turn past an alleyway, the sudden crashing sound of trash cans and body weight against concrete startles you enough that you jump. You have a few seconds to decide if you want to see what’s happening before you convince yourself it’s an animal, but you hear a groan, and before you can make it around the alleyway, there’s yet another thud. 

When you turn the corner, you’re surprised to see Midoriya, face smashed into the wall, nearly ten feet in the air. He falls too fast for you to reach him to try to break his fall, but it’s broken by a load of bundled trash, possibly more than you’ve ever seen not disposed of in your entire life. Dumbfounded, you watch him frown but he doesn’t seem hurt too badly (at least, not as badly as you’ve seen him self-inflict before) and he barely even realizes you’re there, before he’s back to his feet again, staring at the wall pensively, eyebrows knit together as he’s lost in thought. 

He’s in his hero suit, and you wonder how long he’s been out here. Feet pressed against the pavement again, he bends his knees and you see sparks fly before he’s about to jump again, and before he can move…

“Uh… Midoriya? What are you doing?” you finally announce yourself and he freezes still like a statue.

The sparks stop immediately as he turns to you, and his face is redder than a strawberry, jaw slack.

“Oh! Oh my God! I.. uh…”

You blink. Midoriya is always somewhat skittish around you, and you do admit that it’s probably because you’ve been prone to mess with him and give him nicknames, but you’ve never harbored any ill will against it. In fact, there’s a sort of fondness you have towards him, ever since the sports festival. He always manages to surprise you with his resourcefulness even if he’s the polar opposite of you ability-wise - all power, no self preservation.

Still, this isn’t the type of surprise you anticipated. 

Midoriya is still staring at you, mouth agape as he tries to come up with an explanation, not having realized that you’re no longer interested in whatever strangeness he imparts to you as long as he’s okay. All you can think about now is the fact that your head has started to pound, so watching him smash his face into the wall a second time might be the least of your concerns.

But you have to be curious in some way if you’re still standing here at 9 pm on a weekday.

“I-I’m trying to figure out my Quirk…” Izuku says through nervous laughter. You nod slowly, looking at and around him.

“Looking for the light in a dark alley, I see,” you murmur. He doesn’t laugh, instead grimacing. You scrunch your nose a bit at the smell, inescapable, trying to be kind enough not to say a word about it. “It’s super late,” you murmur, then tilt your head. “Are you going to go home soon?”

Maybe walking home with a classmate might be nice, it occurs to you.

Izuku’s green eyes light up for just a moment, then he frowns. 

“I can’t-” he sees you pout before you even realize you are doing so, “-but I can next time! I just have to…” his voice falters as you shift your weight from one side to another then shrug your shoulders. 

“No big deal.”

You turn on your heels, a little slighted but fine. He’s nice to talk to sometimes but you could call your mom or another friend perhaps for company. Izuku is annoying anyway, he’ll probably find a way to aggravate you before you make it home and you’ll regret even running into him. Perhaps.

“I’ll see you around then,” you offer, waving impassively behind you as you walk away.

“B-be safe!” he calls out as you take your first steps away, and you keep walking, the sparks of electricity he generates again as he goes back to whatever desperate move he’s working out putting the hairs of your neck slightly on edge, light catching your peripheral vision.

You turn to him, and take the scene in again. The boy with the Quirk that grants incredible power with a blowback he still can’t withstand. Perhaps truly, he’s not the opposite of you, but complementary. 

He has a look of determination to him, you note, as he squats slightly, then leaps again, soaring high to the point that it’s almost graceful -  but then he hits the wall once more. He tumbles again into bagged trash, and you sigh. 

You’re exhausted but not so exhausted that you can’t help.

“Midoriya, don’t jump again.”

As his head snaps back in your direction, he seems shocked that you’re still there and you wonder how he has such singular focus. Before he can react to you, you end up palming his entire face, pulsing the rest of your energy reserves quickly into the bruised tissues before retracting your arm.

Izuku’s eyes are wide when he looks at you, but you can tell you’ve succeeded because the redness and tiny scrapes on his face have already started to disappear, even if you can’t do anything about his bleeding nose.

You should have thought about this, you think as you wipe your hands on the side of your pants.

“T-thank you,” he mutters. 

You offer him a smile. Either way it’s a form of training.

“Of course. See you around, dino nuggets.”

—

“You know, that was the first time you healed me, ever.”

Izuku remembers that night so many years ago slightly differently than you do, it seems. He remembers being less uninterested in your presence than you impart to him as you recount it, and tells you his heart thumped so fast with embarrassment the moment he saw you he might as well have been having a heart attack, and focusing on his goal of figuring out OFA was the only thing that kept him from dying of mortification on the spot. Your crush finding you crashing into a wall then garbage repeatedly at nighttime in a dark alley isn’t exactly a chivalrous look, and looking so pitiful he earned an unsolicited heal wasn’t exactly the way he tried to woo you.

But all’s well that ends well, no?

You giggle, letting small pulses of your bioelectricity relax the muscles in his back with pinpoint precision. Your fingertips continue to dance gently along his skin until the tension dissipates completely, and he lets out a satisfied sigh as they move gently to his neck, then tap gently at his scalp. 

“I probably could have been just a little more respectful of your dignity, but I think even back then I was trying very hard to suppress any positive feelings for you,” you admit. There’s no point in pretending now that your tender relationship is clearer than crystal, blatant for the world to see.

“And how did that work out for you?” he retorts as your hands run through his hair lovingly. 

You smile to yourself, letting your torso press gently against his back. Izuku’s laying on his belly and you were straddling him prior to this, having decided to bless him with a special back massage as a treat. Your husband always does his best, and doing his best has taken a lot out of him in the past few recent days, so this is the least you can offer him and you’re glad to do so. Both of you have grown stronger, smarter, and better at using your Quirks for yourselves, for society and for each other. It’s only natural that you’ve learned a trick or two.

“Terrible,” you answer.

You smile as your face presses against his upper back, letting your hands run along the length of his arms, more soft pulses of electricity passing through his skin. He shudders against your body and your heart practically sings with affection. 

“Terrible?” he tries to sound annoyed but his voice comes out higher than usual, riddled with relief.

“Yeah, I had no intention to fall in love with you. A huge fail on my part, actually.”

He chuckles.

“I guess it’s true that there’s a lot to gain from failure then.”

You hate and love that he’s always so good at redirecting and softening any of your playful resistance. Your hands tighten gently around his wrists.

“Are you mocking me, Izuku?”

His laughter rumbles through his larger body, the vibration running through all parts of you as you stay pressed together.

“Maybe,” he replies, coyly. 

“You know, in this position, I could make sure you never get up again,” you say in a honeyed voice. “You have a vested interest in being nice to me,” you tease.

Izuku moves a little too fast for you to keep up at times, and this is one of those times. Before you realize, your positions have switched, and now he’s on top of you, so close his forehead is pressed to yours.

He kisses just above your eyebrows, your eyes closing automatically.

“I’m always nice to you,” he reminds you, his voice soft.

You smile as they open again and you look at him. He’s far from the awkward try-hard boy he once was, and you’re far from the sometimes standoffish, other times overly yet hesitantly invested girl you once were.

You’re invested in him with full intention, just as he’s invested in you.

“You’re right. Thank you for being so good to me,” you reply softly.

And you’ll always be good to him.

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

My Home Is You Part 1/3

A/N: I am so obsessed with this movie, I've seen it twice. Enjoy. Leave a comment, like, or reblog if you've enjoyed it. Thank you to @kingliam2019 for requesting.

Fandom: The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare

Pairing: Gus March-Phillips x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ for language, Nazi's, canon typical violence, possible spoilers for the movie, and mentions of sexual assault.

Part 2 Part 3

“What’s that?” Freddy points to the lump behind Gus’s coat. 

“Nothing,” Gus shrugs, “shall we.” 

“We shall not,” Freddy shouts exasperated, “it’s moving! Unless you became the hunchback of Notre Dame in the ten minutes I left you, you got something hidden behind your back!” 

“He’s got a point, boss,” Hazy shrugs. 

Gus sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I think the jig is up,” he pushes the coat up and out you pop from behind his side, disappearing behind him with a shriek. 

“Where the hell did you find a woman?!” Freddy looks around, then goes silent putting two and two together, “Oh, I see.” 

“She’s coming with us,” Gus reaches behind him and you grasp his hand, trembling hard at being surrounded by so many men. His touch is warm, and you take a moment to breathe before stepping out from behind him at your full height. 

“Hello,” you whisper, giving an awkward wave. 

Gus lets go of your hand and claps making you jump and his face quickly turns apologetic, “Fuck, sorry about that, love. These are the boys,” he points to each man giving you a quick rundown on his merry band of miscreants. He turns to you with a proud smile, “I never did catch your name.” 

“Let me get this straight,” Freddy puts his hands on his hips, sticking out one finger towards Gus, “you find a random woman hidden in a Nazi garrison, fight your way out with her, and decide to bring her with us, without asking her name first?” 

“Probably did it a bit backward,” Gus rubs the back of his head with a chuckle, “but I’m making up for it now.” 

You clear your throat and they all turn towards you as you say your name, a small smile spreading across your face when they repeat it to you. “Welcome to the team,” Anders bows before putting his bow over his shoulder, “shall we get back to the boat, we got somewhere we need to be.” 

“After you,” Gus says, frowning when he realizes Anders is already halfway back to the boat. “That’s the spirit Lassen, lead the way!” Gus slings an arm around your shoulder and helps you walk, it’s slow and painful; your foot aches with every step but you keep it to yourself. These men have already done enough liberating you and agreeing to take you with them. The last thing they need is for you to be injured. But nothing gets past Gus. 

He doesn’t ask, just leans down and swings you up into his arms. You gasp, quickly wrapping your arms around his neck. “Wh-what are you doing?” you whisper. 

“You’re limping,” he whispers back, almost like two children sharing a secret, he grins. “I’m not about to let you hurt yourself worse before I can take a look at your injuries.” 

“I’m fine,” you bite your lip looking away, “you’ve done enough already.” 

Gus stops, the others moving around him to toss the rope down the cliff side, “Darling, I know you’ve just spent gods knows how long with the worst creatures imaginable but not all of us are monsters.” 

“I didn’t say you were,” you turn back to him, and catch your breath when you notice how close he is. “I don’t think you’re a monster at all,” you whisper, swallowing hard, “I just don’t want to cause you any more trouble.” 

“Do you know what I thought when I saw you tucked behind that wall crying and holding your ears?” You shake your head, and he grins, “She looks like just my kind of trouble.” 

The first smile in months spreads like wildfire across your face and you nod. “Ready?” Apple interrupts, “We managed a pulley to get her down.” 

Gus nods, lifting you into the makeshift pulley and working with Apple to lower you down. When you reach the ground Lassen lifts you into his arms while Gus and Apple come down and re-wrap the rope around their arms. 

When finished, Gus reaches his arms out for you and Anders smiles, tugging you closer. “I think I’ll hold on to her for a while. Give you a break,” he looks down giving you a conspiratorial wink. 

“Give me back my damsel,” Gus holds out his arms wider, “I’m not going to ask again.” 

“Who are you calling a damsel?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest, and Lassen lets out a joyful cheer. 

“You tell him, honey,” he turns walking with you back towards the dinghy. His glee makes a ghost of a laugh appear in your throat before you toss your head back in delight. 

Apple pats Gus on the back as he climbs into the boat and you look back to see Gus smiling, a full-blown smile just for you and you rest your head on your arm and look back at him. “It’s good to see you laugh,” he mouths, and your cheeks ache from smiling as he sits down and begins to row. 

“Row row, row your boat,” Lassen mumbles under his breath, the lull of the waves and the feeling of safety making your eyes droop. “Oh, the little lamb is tired, no?” he whispers in your ear, “You rest, no one will harm you ever again.” 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you repeat your fathers words aloud. 

“Little lamb, with the way Gus is looking at me right now. You don’t have to worry about anyone hurting you for the rest of your life.” He rubs a hand over your arm and chuckles, mumbling, “if looks could kill.” 

“He won’t always be there,” your words are drowsy as you burrow deep into his arms, letting out a yawn. 

“Ah, little lamb, I highly doubt that,” Lassen chuckles softly, before you feel yourself being lifted into anothers arms. The scent of smoke, cologne, and leather lull you into a deeper sense of calm and you snuggle into his arms. Gus looks down, brushing a knuckle over your cheek and committing your face to memory as you fall asleep, breathing softly. “Take a picture,” Lassen teases, “it will last longer.” 

“Her cell was next to mine,” Apple interrupts, “she was always so nice to me. Tried to patch me up the best she could through the bars. I tried to return the favor, everytime they brought her….fuck I can still hear the screaming.” The men are silent, the waves crashing against the dinghy as they get closer and closer to the boat. 

“Well,” Freddy clears his throat, “she’s safe now.” They reach the boat, helping Gus aboard and watching as he disappears below deck with you. 

“Heaven help the man who tries to take her away from him,” Hayes clears his throat, and the rest climb aboard and continue on toward Fernando Po. 

Below deck, Gus tucks you into his bunk and watches the rise and fall of your chest before he moves towards the end of the bed, and lifts the blanket to remove your shoe. He curses when he sees the bruising around your ankle. He removes the other shoe and has to control his breathing when he sees the same markings; shackles. 

“Never again,” he whispers, grabbing bandages and ointments and applying them to your ankles. The bottom of your foot is no better, and he grabs the tweezers removing several shards of glass and bandaging your feet. “No wonder you were limping,” he talks to himself. He takes the next twenty minutes checking over the parts of your body he can see, treating every little cut and bruise. When he’s finished he walks over to a basin of water and washes his hands before pouring a glass of scotch and sitting down at the map. 

He loses track of the time, his head snapping up from the table when the screaming starts. He pushes the chair out, climbing over the table to grab your thrashing body. He repeats your name over and over again till your eyes pop open, gasping you reach towards him throwing your arms around his neck and letting out a sob. “I thought it was a dream,” you sob brokenly into his skin, almost crawling into his lap, “I dreamed I was back there,” you take a deep breath, “that they were…” 

“No,” he shakes his head, pulling back to put both hands on your face, his thumbs brushing the tears from your eyes. “You’re safe,” he repeats once, then twice, “do you hear me?” 

“I’m safe,” you repeat back, the tears silently streaming down your face. From the stairs, the men stare at the scene before them. “Uh oh,” Freddy shakes his head, and the others turn to him with various questions. “Look at them,” he points back to you and Gus, “he looks at her like he just realized what love was.” 

“I didn’t know you were a romantic, Freddy,” Apple claps him on the shoulder with a laugh. “I’m not,” he shrugs, “but I’m also not blind. That right there,” he points a finger, “that’s love if I ever saw it. You just wait, I bet you ten pounds she goes home with him at the end of this mission.” 

“I’ll take that bet,” Hayes tosses over his shoulder. 

Apple raises a brow, “you don’t think they’ll end up getting hitched once we’re home.” 

“That wasn’t the bet,” Hayes grins, “he bet that she’ll go home with him at the end of the mission. I think we’ll either be dead or in jail so she probably won’t be going home with him.” 

“Never bet against yourself, Hazy,” Freddy shakes his head, “have I taught you nothing.” 

“It’s your deal,” Henry reminds him before shrugging past to go back to the deck, “let’s go, give them some privacy.” 

Their steps recede and Gus rubs the last of your tears away, “do you want something to eat?” 

“Yes,” you nod, moving from his lap and tugging the blanket around your shoulders. When you step down, you quickly look at the bandages around your feet and ankle before meeting his eyes, “thank you,” you whisper, “for everything.” 

“You don’t have to thank me,” he puts the kettle on, “any decent human being would do the same.” You sit down at the table seeing the maps and confidential files spread across the surface. Gus grabs the papers and puts them into a pile before putting down a cup of steaming tea before you. 

“I have a few questions,” you wrap your hands around the cup, absorbing some of the warmth. 

He takes a sip, blowing the top with a grin, “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” 

“What were you doing in the Garrison?” 

“Rescuing Appleyard,” he takes another sip, “we needed him.” 

“For what?” 

Gus puts down his cup, crossing his arms over his chest and your heart beats a little louder at how strained the fabric is over his bulging biceps. You quickly take a sip of your tea, burning your tongue when you meet his eyes, seeing amusement sparkle. “Enjoying the show?” you cough, the tea spilling down the front of your dress. “Shit,” he shouts, grabbing a towel and pulling out the chair beside you to sit down. You grab it and soak up the liquid from your dress, the top sinking lower with each tug. 

When you’re finished you glance up to see his eyes on your chest before he quickly averts his eyes and clears his throat. “Enjoying the show?” you smile softly when he coughs and lets out a strained laugh. 

“Very much,” he turns his head and your mouth goes dry. Neither says anything for a moment before he goes back to the pile and tugs out the map. You take another sip of tea to prevent being parched when he spreads it over the table. “We’re on a secret mission for the English government.” “Come again?” you clear your throat, sitting up straighter. 

He grins, “We are on an unsanctioned, unofficial mission to destroy a ship and two tug boats holding enough supplies to supply the German U-boats for six months. We destroy those ships and we regain control of the Atlantic.” 

“And how do you plan to do that?” 

“Explosives,” he pushes a tin of biscuits towards you, “tons of explosives. What do you think?” 

You sit there for a moment, processing everything he’s said before reaching into the tin and pulling out a ginger snap. You dip it into your cup before taking a bite with a grin, “where can I sign up?” 

[joedirtymadre]

Assignment

YUTA X READER! FLUFF! (Please send more requests... IM BEGGING)

You let out a deep sigh. “Something on your mind (Y/N)?” Panda asked. You were in the middle of eating lunch with Toge, Maki, and Panda. “I don’t know… I guess, or I don’t know if I’m overreacting…” you trailed off as you let out another sigh. “Well spit it out already,” Maki said. 

“I think Yuta is avoiding me,” you blurted out. “Yuta?” Panda asked. “Yeah! This whole week every time I’ve spotted him and tried to talk to him, he’d always have somewhere he has to be. I understand being busy, but at this point it just seems like he’s trying to avoid me,” you explained. “That doesn’t sound like Yuta,” Maki said as she rubbed her chin. “Bonito flakes,” Toge said. 

“Whew, so I’m not crazy,” you let out a sigh of relief. “Did you guys have a fight or something?” Panda asked. “Not that I can remember…” you started, closing your eyes trying to think back to any possible moment. 

“Wait, well… there was one day where…” you trailed off.

Flashback

“Yuta!” you called out as you raced over to your friend. “Oh, hey (Y/N). How are you?” He asked. “Tired, just came back from a mission,” you groaned. “Really, well I’m glad you’re-” he stopped himself. You looked up and noticed his eyes focused on your stomach. You glanced down and noticed him staring at your large gauze pad. You zipped up your jacket, not wanting to bring too much attention to it.

“What happened?” he asked softly. “N-Nothing crazy, this cursed spirit just had quite a few tricks up their sleeve. One of them just caught me by surprise,” you explained. “I’m fine though! I already have a new assignment planned for tomorrow, so no big deal,” you smiled. “What? You already have an assignment planned for tomorrow? Why?” He asked, his tone slightly raising. “Huh? What do you mean? There’s a cursed spirit found in an abandoned apartment complex that needs to be dealt with, why wouldn’t I take it?” You asked him. “Then I’ll tell the principal to send me instead,” he said.

“What? Why?” You asked, confused. “Because you should stay here and heal, why are you already taking another assignment when you’re injured?” He asked. “Because I told you already that I’m fine, why are you making this a big deal? Besides, you already have a whole load of assignments to do,” you replied. “It’s fine, it’s just one more. So tomorrow stay here on campus, I’ll deal with it,” he said firmly. 

“No way, why are you acting this way?” you asked. “Because you should stay here and rest, what if tomorrow you die because of your injuries?” He asked. “I said I’m fine, why are you making this a big deal? I’ve seen you come back with way more bandages than me and you never thought about staying back to rest. So why should I?” you asked. “Because I’ve always been fine! But you-” you cut him off. 

“I’m what? Not strong enough?” You questioned him. “N-No, that wasn’t what I was gonna say,” he stuttered. “Then what? Why are you treating me like I’m some flower? I’m a sorcerer just like you and if I think I’m fit enough to take on another assignment then I should be able to,” you said. “Because… I don’t want you to-” he stopped himself. “You’re right, I shouldn’t be stopping you from doing your assignments…” he trailed off as he turned to walk off. You stared at his back as he walked off, wondering what just happened.

End of flashback

“I see,” Maki said. “Was I in the wrong? But seriously you guys I was completely fine, it was just a cut!” you said. “Yeah I get it, but it doesn’t hurt to have someone worry about you,” Maki replied. “I get that, but to go as far as try to take over my assignment just to keep me here? All because of a cut?” You sighed. The others stayed silent, unsure what to say.

“Well at the end of the day, the only way to really find out is by asking Yuta,” Panda said. “Trust me, I’ve tried,” you replied. “Well then… let’s corner him,” Maki said with a mischievous look in her eyes. “Salmon,” Toge nodded. “So we’re all in, now what’s the plan?” You smiled. 

Later

Maki, Toge, and Panda all walked towards Yuta. “Yuta!” Panda called out. “Oh, hey you guys!” He smiled back. “Are you off to your dorm?” Panda asked. “Yeah, I finished my assignment early, so I’m just going to spend the rest of the day relaxing,” he replied. “What were you guys doing?” Yuta asked. “Nothing much, we just finished having lunch with (Y/N),” Maki replied. “I see,” he nodded. “Kelp?” Toge asked. “I’m fine, it’s just that (Y/N) and I had a little argument… and I feel bad,” Yuta confessed. “An argument?” Panda asked. “Yeah, I was being a little much, but…” he trailed off. “But… don’t you think you should tell this to (Y/N)?” Maki asked. “I don’t think that’s a good idea… I’ve been secretly avoiding her all week. I’d have to explain that too…” he said nervously. “Well you can just tell her now,” Panda said. “Huh?” Yuta asked. 

Panda slowly turned to the side to show you clinging to his back. “I’ve got you,” You said with an evil look in your eyes. “(Y-Y/N)!? W-Why are you clinging onto Panda?” He asked nervously. “Because if I didn’t sneak up on you, you would’ve run away again. But now that I hear that you’re free the rest of the day, we can finally have a chat,” you said as you quickly hopped off of Panda’s back. “O-Oh is that G-Gojo calling me?” He asked as he tried to run off, but you quickly grabbed a hold of his collar.

“Not this time,” you said and dragged him off to your dorm. “Bye Yuta!” Panda waved, following with Maki and Toge. “H-Help…” Yuta said softly as you continued to drag him away.

You quickly tossed him into your room, once entering you placed a chair in front of the door and sat down. “No escape, Yuta~” you said in a sing-song tone. “W-What is there to talk about?” He asked nervously. “Let’s see… how about you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me all week? Is it really because I didn’t take that day off?” You asked. “N-No! Well, not necessarily,” you said, avoiding your eyes. “Then what is it? Why have you been ignoring me? Don’t you know how much it h-hurts my feelings, knowing that you’re avoiding me?” you asked softly. 

“I d-didn’t mean to hurt you!” He said abruptly. “It doesn’t seem that way…” you trailed off. “I’m sorry I got hurt, I’m not perfect and that cursed spirit caught me by surprise… So why am I being punished by having an off day?” you asked. “I’m sorry (Y/N)! Believe me, I’ve been acting stupid! I just…” He let out a deep breath. “I just hated seeing you injured… W-Whenever I see you hurt… i-it hurts m-me…” he stuttered. You noticed his face turn a deep red. “I care about you too Yuta, it’s not fun for me seeing you all bandaged up after an assignment,” you said softly, feeling your face get hotter.

“Y-You do?” His face turned darker. “Then… I-I have something to say!” He blurted out. “Ok tell me,” you smiled. “I-I… well I, I think… no! I know! Well I-I just really uh… and-” you slowly stood up from your chair and walked over to the stumbling boy. You softly cupped his face, bringing his attention to you. “It’s ok Yuta, just take your time,” you smiled. “I like you (Y/N),” you blurted out. Your eyes widened by the sudden confession. Yuta froze because of your lack of reaction, “I t-take that back! It’s fine, just pretend I never said-” you cut him off with a small peck on his cheek. 

“Jeez, at least give me a minute to collect my thoughts before you try running away again,” you huffed. “H-Huh?” he blushed. “I was just caught by surprise… a really, really n-nice surprise,” you said, feeling your ears burn. “Does this mean you like me too?” He asked, cupping your hands. “W-Well it’s not like I’m kissing every guy I see…” you said nervously. You were suddenly pulled into a tight hug, “I’m sorry I was being so mean the other day. It just hurts seeing you hurt, no matter the size of the injury. That’s why I wanted to take your other assignment, because if you ever-” you cut him off.

“Don’t think so negatively, just… let’s just enjoy this moment. No matter how long we’re together, ok?” You asked. “Yeah,” Yuta smiled. You sneaked another quick peck on his cheek, giggling at his beet red face. “You’ll make me have a heart attack…” Yuta sighed. “Sorry!” you laughed, as you both continued to hold each other.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Hi!! If it’s okay, totally okay if not, can I please request an Avenger!Bucky x fem!civilian!reader fic (all of the Avengers are alive au😅) where the reader accidentally gets caught up in the middle of the Avengers’ mission (poor girl is just walking home from work) and the bad guys attack her? Bucky saving her from the bad guys, and the Avengers have to take her back with them to HQ because she is really injured and they have the best medical staff to help. She’s just really scared and traumatized about the situation, but Bucky really does all that he can to take care of her and mend her back to health (and ofc the other Avengers take care of her too), but her and Bucky have a lot of chemistry and their relationship grows and grows the longer she is staying in the Avengers HQ🥺 Like she’ll have nightmares (something Bucky knows all to well about) and will run over to his room asking to sleep in his bed because she’s scared and doesn’t want to be alone🥺

You’re Safe » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Civilian!Female Reader

Summary: Y/N gets attacked on her way home from work and Bucky saves and takes care of her.

Warnings: Fluff, language, blood and bruises, crying, kissing, cuddling, nightmares, use of pet names

A/N: Thank you for requesting @kpopgirlbtssvt 🩵

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

“Maybe I should’ve taken a different way home.” You thought to yourself. You seen the Avengers in the middle of a mission and you didn’t want to get in their way. You were too close to home to turn around and take a different way. You tried your best to stay out of their way by walking along the buildings. Before you knew it, someone grabbed you from behind and held a knife to your throat. You froze in fear.

“Pl-Please don’t hurt m-me!” You stuttered in fear.

“Are you one of them?” The man asks.

“What?” You asked confused.

The man slammed you against one of the buildings. You whimpered in pain when your head hit the wall.

“Don’t play stupid.” He put the knife to your throat again, the blade touching your skin. “Are you one of the Avengers?” He asks.

“N-No I’m not.” You answered. “I was j-just walked home from w-work.” You say, stuttering again.

The man just stared you down. That’s when you heard someone else’s voice.

“Get away from her!” You heard a deep voice say.

“Why should I?” The man asks, turning his head towards the person.

You noticed the person from the corner of your eye. Bucky Barnes, an Avenger and the former Winter Soldier.

“Your problem isn’t with her. It’s with us.” Bucky tries to reason with the man. “Just let her go. She means no harm to anyone.” He says.

The man slowly moved the knife away from your throat. Suddenly he stabbed you in the chest causing a sharp gasp of pain to leave your lips. Bucky just let the man run away. He caught you before you fell to the ground. His priority is to get you help.

“Ma’am, I’m Bucky. Can you hear me?” Bucky asks.

You just nodded your head yes. Bucky blood coming out of the stab wound on your chest and put his right hand on it, applying pressure causing you to whimper in pain.

“I know it hurts. Just stay with me. I’m going to get you help, ok?” He says.

That was the last thing you heard before you passed out from blood loss. Bucky picked you up bridal style and carried you to the quinjet. You woke up a day later somewhere that’s not your house. You tried to sit up, but you felt a sharp pain in the right side of your chest causing you to wince in pain.

“Oh good! You’re awake.” You heard a familiar deep voice.

You turned your head to the side to see one of the Avengers sitting next to the bed.

“How do you feel?” Bucky asks.

“My head hurts and the right side of my chest hurts.” You say.

“I’ll get the nurse to get you some pain medicine for that.” He says, getting up and walking out of the room.

Pain medicine? You were so confused. You looked around the room, trying to figure out where you are. You took the blanket off of you and tried to sit on the edge of the bed, but you couldn’t. The pain got the best of you.

“Hey no.” Bucky coos softly. “Don’t try to move. The doctors said you’ll be in pain for a while.” He says, putting the blanket back on you and sat down in the chair next to the bed.

You looked at him for a moment, trying to remember his name, but your mind is fuzzy.

“I know you.” You say, still looking at him.

“Do you remember my name?” Bucky asks.

“I know it starts with a B, but I don’t remember.” You say, looking down at your lap.

“It’s ok if you don’t remember.” He smiles softly. “My name is Bucky.” He tells you. “Can you tell me your name?” He asks.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You tell him.

“That’s a beautiful name for a girl like you.” He compliments you, making you blush.

You looked around the room again, still trying to figure out where you are. You felt yourself start to panic and your breathing became uneven.

“Where am I?” You asked.

“You’re in the med bay in the Avengers Compound with the best medical staff.” Bucky tells you. “Do you remember what happened?” He asks.

“I remember hitting my head and someone stabbing me in the chest, but I remember anything after that.” You say.

Bucky leaned forward and gently picked up your hand with his right hand, his thumb rubbing the back of it as a friendly gesture.

“It’s going to take a while for you to recover, but just know, you’re going to be fine. I’ll take care of you through every step of it.” He says softly, calming you down.

You stayed at the Avengers Compound during your recovery. They gave you a room on the same floor as Bucky and helped you set it up. Bucky stuck to his word about taking care of you. The rest of the Avengers helped you too. Bucky makes sure to give you pain medication and changes the bandages on your wound when it needs to be changed. Natasha and Wanda got you some comfortable clothes. You gave Steve and Sam a list of your favorite foods and snacks. Tony, Bruce, Peter, and Thor kept you company when you Bucky was busy. The more you and Bucky hung out, the chemistry grew stronger between the two of you. You stayed even after you were fully recovered. You just couldn’t leave. Something in your heart was telling you to stay.

You were currently tossing and turning in your sleep. The dream you were having turned into a nightmare quickly. This has been a recurring nightmare since you got attacked. As soon as the knife plunges into your chest, you were lying on the ground lifeless. You woke up gasping for air with tears streaming down your cheeks and a thin layer sweat covering your forehead. You scrambled to get out of bed and went across the hall to Bucky’s bedroom. You knocked on his bedroom door till he opened it. Before Bucky could say anything, you wrapped your arms around his shirtless waist and began crying against his chest. Bucky carefully guided you into his bedroom and closed the door. He walked you to his bed and sat you down. He sat down next to you.

“Y/N, doll, breathe.” Bucky looks in your teary eyes. “You’re ok, babydoll. Just breathe for me. Take some deep breaths” He says.

You inhaled and exhaled till your breathing went back to normal. Bucky stood up to get you a cool wet towel from the bathroom, but you stopped him by grabbing his arm tightly.

“I’ll be right back. I promise.” He says softly.

You let go of his arm and he wet a towel with cold water in the bathroom. He came back and sat down next to you, placing the wet towel on your forehead to cool you down. The cool feeling of the wet towel against your forehead soothed you.

“You weren’t there.” You say, breaking the silence.

“I’m right here, doll.” Bucky says, holding your hand.

“I mean in my nightmares. I lay lifeless on the ground and hope you save me, but you didn’t.” You explained.

Your breathing became uneven again and tears escaped your eyes.

“Breathe.” He coos softly. “You’re safe. I got you.” He says.

You looked deep in his beautiful blue eyes, getting lost in them. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in and kissing Bucky. He was caught by surprise, but kissed you back. His metal hand carefully cupped your cheek.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” You confessed.

“Me too.” Bucky smiles.

He got up one more time to get you some water and came back. You drank some of it and put it on his nightstand next to his bed. You and Bucky laid down. You laid your head on his chest, your fingers playing with his dog tags. Bucky wrapped his arms around you protectively. He turned his TV on a low volume to get your mind off of your nightmares.

“How do you do it?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Do what?” Bucky asks, looking at you.

“Cope through your nightmares.” You say.

“Honestly, I just try not to think about it, even though I know they’re still there.” He tells you. “It gets better. I’ll help you through it. I promise.” He says softly.

You felt your eyes start to droop. The sound of Bucky’s heartbeat made you sleepy.

“Go to sleep, babydoll.” He rubs your back with his metal hand. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.” He says softly, kissing the top of your head.

“Goodnight.” You say sleepily.

“Goodnight, doll.” He says.

“Bucky…” You say.

“Yes?” He asks.

“I love you.” You say before falling asleep.

“I love you too, doll.” He says with a smile.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[twoduelsabers]

aftermath

summary -> qimir has changed since he left the jedi order behind. since he left you behind. but little does he know, so did you.

content warnings -> canon typical violence, near death experiences, angst with a happy ending

no use of y/n. she/her pronouns

the ask -> helloooo! I like to request where qimir x reader were close when they were padawans. but one night they have a pretty bad argument that doesn’t end on a good note. it became messy when qimir left without telling her & he thought she hated him (based of the argument). they meet again but in a fight where she's badly injured by him (accidentally). angst angst angst please but happy ending please. thank youuu in advance ! 💗

"you can't just leave the order!"

she whispered harshly, gripping his arm. she wanted to yell, but the temple garden's weren't exactly the ideal location to do so.

how could he just go away like that? how could he leave her?

"this isn't my path. i'm made for more."

qimir's voice was firm. he had set his mind, and although he was sure he'll miss her, he had to go. he knew that jedi wouldn't approve of his views on the force- he also knew that she shared them with him, but for some reason refused to join his escape.

"i know you are." her voice was pleading, and her hand moved from his forearm to hold his hand. "but this is reckless!"

qimir's gaze fell to their joined hands, and he squeezed them.

"i told you, you can come with me."

"i can't- I can't leave my master, my friends-"

"but you can leave me?" his voice came out harsh, frustration hiding the hurt. he slipped his hand away.

"you're the one leaving!" she snapped, poking his chest.

if it hurt him, he didn't show it. he didn't understand. how could she be so naive? she wasn't free- they weren't free. and they could be, only if she dared to see beyond the jedi teachings.

he had to show her how serious he was about his decision. he grabbed his lightsaber and in an instant cut off his padawan braid. it fell to the ground.

her eyes widened, and she let out a surprised gasp. the braid was supposed to be cut by one's master, during knighting- the most sacred jedi ritual. even if he wanted to, there was no turning back now. and she couldn't do the same. it wasn't right.

"oh, qimir what have you done..." she reached to touch his cheek, but he backed away, stopping her wrist.

"you made your choice."

his voice was cold. he had to forget about her now, didn't he? leave this life behind, leave the order, and leave her.

qimir turned away abruptly, without a single look back.

he left her alone among the neatly trimmed bushes. the temple was silent.

she tried to stop the tears from falling down her cheeks when qimir's figure disappeared from her sight. did she really mean so little to him?

she forced herself to take a slow breath.

this wasn't the jedi way. whatever was it that they had was doomed since it's beginning.

they had both chosen their paths.

she moved swiftly through the narrow hallway, clutching the map in her hand. her breath was shallow. she managed to get rid of all the guard droids, at least that she knew of- which wasn't easy given they were made by the sith. she grimaced at that automatically. her old master definitely wouldn't approve of what she just did. but there it was- her old master. she didn't have a master anymore. she wasn't a padawan.

but she wasn't a jedi knight either.

neither was qimir.

jedi don't steal sith artefacts, do they?

she didn't want to run into any more of the droids again, and so she slowed her pace a little, tapping into the force, extending her senses into the maze of the ancient build. she relaxed a little when she felt small animals in the dark corners, moss, and the exit just nearby- the safety of her ship awaiting.

she was about to resume her journey, when suddenly a dark, threatening presence entered through the half broken gate.

the raw power in their force signature made her shudder. whoever it was, they must have sensed her too. she shoved the map into a secure pocket, drawing her lightsaber, and pulling her hood and mask to cover up her lips and her nose. they were a force user, and she couldn't risk getting recognised.

and then he showed up. she didn't even have time to process what was going on, when a red blade flashed between her eyes.

a red blade.

she backed away quickly, deflecting his strike, trying to assess her position. the stranger was wearing a helmet, concealing his identity, but she sensed something familiar. could that be a jedi? she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

and she didn't have the luxury of contemplating, as another blow almost cut her hand off. he was strong. strong and fast. as they fought she realised that he isn't using a particular combat form- he was unpredictable and aggressive.

that's what gave him the upper hand. he moved his forearm forward, and her blade suddenly broke in front of her eyes. was he wearing...cortosis?

she tried to dodge his blows desperately, and while moving that violently, her mask slipped down to her neck.

then his lightsaber pierced her stomach. a sharp pain striked through her body, and she let out a cry.

but as quick as it came, he withdrew it immediately. there was a change in the air- as if someone flicked a switch.

she fell to her knees in shock, clutching her wound.

the stranger fell to his knees as quick as she did.

took off his helmet in seconds, only to reveal a pained, guilty expression in his dark brown eyes-

"qimir."

she whispered, not believing her eyes. he was alive. alive and seemingly well- surely better than her at least. a bitter feeling tugged at her heart in realisation that he'd be the one to kill her.

"did you find what you were looking for?"

she asked, wincing in pain.

he didn't answer.

"the map is in my pocket."

she choked out. even after he doomed her fate, she couldn't bring herself to hate him. the same way she couldn't do that when he left. coughing, she tipped forward, ready to hit the hard ground, but instead, she landed in his extended arms.

"breathe."

was the first word qimir said to her, his voice strained.

she listened. it wasn't like she had much choice.

qimir furrowed his brows, focusing on her. he couldn't allow her to go. not here. not like this. he still hadn't tell her so many things...

he gently lifted her arms off of the wound that he inflicted, and placed his palm over it.

qimir took in a slow breath, trying to ignore her ragged breath and shaky hands.

ignore her scared gaze.

then he ehxaled, transferring his energy into her body. the gaping hole in her stomach gradually disappeared, leaving only burnt cloth behind.

she looked down at her stomach surprised. she was sure he's going to cut her suffering but-

"i'm sorry."

qimir whispered. he felt so guilty that he didn't recognise her. that he hurt her. more than once. after all that time...her force signature was completely different.

so was his.

"don't leave me here."

she spoke before she could stop herself. she tried not to think about of how pathetic she sounded.

but maybe qimir didn't want an intertwined future now. maybe he still thought of her as a lost cause.

"forgive me."

he pressed his lips gently against her temple, whispering words of apology.

and that gave her the answer.

reblogs appreciated<3

masterlist

[cheri-2047]

Have you done Cynos new quest? If so, may I request a Tighnari x Reader oneshot where the reader also takes part in the duel at the end (as the traveller or something). Even tho they won they still got injured (but pretended to be fine as to not appear as weak) and after everything settled down and they went back to the city Tighnari takes care of them? Basically some fluff, comfort kinda thing? Sorry if it sounds kinda complicated :')

Thank you and have a good day/night!!

THANKS FOR REQUESTING !! So sorry this took long btw 😔

so uh… I didn’t actually do the story quest cause I stopped playing when lyneys banner was over 💀 BUT I will write like Tighnari tends to ur wounds (that you got after a commission)

Tighnari x injured reader

TAGS: fluff/comfort, blood/wounds

CHARACTERS: Tighnari, mentions of Paimon

A/N AT THE END !

You opened the door to you and your boyfriends shared home, covering the blood stains on your shirt with a bag of things you got payed for in the commission.

“you’re home!”

tighnari walked up to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

He raised an eyebrows upon seeing some blood on your shirt,

“what’s th-“

“I’m going to bed, I’m a bit tired.”

you said, before paimon interrupted “heyyy! You haven’t even promised paimon her snacks for helping you when you got in-“

“kitchen paimon, top cabinet”

you slumped your way to your bedroom, not wanting to sleep with tighnari tonight so he wouldn’t see your wounds.

as you removed your shirt, you winced, looking at the loosely wrapped bandages around your torso.

“shit….”

you unwrapped it, carefully and slowly. meanwhile, back in the kitchen, paimon was running through the cabinets.

“aha!”

“finally! Paimon deserved this!”

she drooled at the sight of the chips, tighnari finding it odd how she actually helped In a commission. He heard your distant grunts, your curses, everything no matter how much you tried to stay quiet.

“paimon, how was the commission?”

he asked, hoping she’d give some info.

“Traveler got stabbed pretty badly by a hilichurl camp! Then traveler told paimon to stay quiet and they’d give me their snacks from inazuma!”

Paimon exclaimed, completely disregarding your agreement with her. “oops…. Uh.. don’t tell traveler”

she snickered, while stuffing her face with some dango you had left over.

“thank you paimon.”

and just like that, tighnari left the room.

you were struggling to tend to your own wounds, trying to not stain the sheets or anything, when you heard a familiar voice.

“tsk. You’re hopeless.”

Your boyfriend sat next to you and grabbed a cotton, adding some liquid to help disinfect it.

“Paimon told me everything. Don’t bother to hide it.”

he held your hand tightly before disinfecting the wound. It hurt a lot.

“agh-! Nari-“

you winced, holding his hand tightly

“almost done.”

you tried to not yell in pain, knowing tighnari’s ears are quite sensitive.

“I need to stitch these, drink this first.”

he suddenly pushed a drink to your lips. It was a drink to help you get sleepy so you wouldn’t feel much pain.

as you were being stitched up, nari held your hand tightly and placed a scarf nearby to your mouth to bite for pain.

he winces whenever he sees a particularly deep wound/scar, hoping the anesthesia is still strong while he treats them (yes he also injected some to you after he made you drink a sleep thing)

when he’s finished, he changes you out of your clothes. He obv doesn’t touch any intimate areas

the moment he changes you to comfier clothes, he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“oh traveler….dont hide things like this from me.”

he stays up all night to care for you.

the next morning, he does everything. Cleans dishes, makes sure you don’t move at all and most important (and the scariest thing…) he needs to hear what happened from YOUR mouth.

he reassures you that even if you’re injured, it’s okay to ask for help.

the entire day(every day until you’re better) he pampers you.

the end

A/N; CAN U TELL I RAN OUT OF IDEAS IN THE END 💀 my bad, and also thanks for the request ! Ask for another if u want it rewritten lmao. Anyways I also realized that I actually may have mischaracterized him cause I realized how little info I know abt this man AS IF I DONT LITERALLY COSPLAY HIM 💀💀💀 anyways that’s it, thank u !

[bucks-babe]

Letter for a sneak peek of your nsfw alphabet…

H

Please becuase it’s so fucking adorable and you should share that with them all.🤭🤭

Of course you picked hair😂 @low0tter here is a sneak peak since @buckys-wintersoldier went crazy when she read it 😂

Full A-Z here

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps himself trimmed, usually using a pair of hair scissors to keep his bush tamed. He hates having a full bush, it feels weird when he wears underwear. He uses an electric razor every so often when he feels like going bald, but he doesn’t do that too often. The one time he saw you wince when he was fucking you because his hair poked your clit just wrong, he vowed to shave and keep his hair short. You told him it wasn’t necessary but he did it anyway.

And of course you asked to watch him shave. It wasn’t your fault you’ve never seen how a man shaves his cock and balls.

“So, like how does that work?” Bucky gives you an incredulous look. “Shaving. It seems difficult. How do you not cut yourself?”

Bucky sighs, he should be used to this by now, his girlfriend being obsessed with his cock, and not just because you always want to fuck him, but because you want to know how it works. Can I hold him while you pee? Can you swing him around? Can I hold him when we cuddle? I want to watch him get hard. Can I keep him in my mouth while you work?

Bucky doesn’t mind the last one, he would be insane to say no to having his cock in your mouth. In the end, he lets you come into the bathroom while he shaves. “Sweets, don’t look at me like that, gonna make me hard.”

“I’m not looking any type of way. I’m just interested.” He runs the razor through his hair, delicately grabbing his soft cock, pulling it away from where he shaves next. “Woah, so you just move him around?”

“Well, how else would you shave the hair there, sweets?” He lets out a chuckle before focusing on his task again.

“So you don’t get hard touching your dick so much?” Bucky laughs, almost nicking himself.

“What do you think I do when I take a shower? You get used to it.”

“You always get hard when I hold him.” He has to turn the razor off, doubling over with laughter.

“That’s different, sweets.” He goes back to shaving, now focusing on his balls, pulling the skin tight.

“That’s fucking cool and kind of hot. You know, you playing with your balls.”

Bucky’s cock twitches at your words. “You’re never watching me shave again.”

On you however, he couldn’t give less of a damn what you do with your pubic hair. If you shave, that’s fine, he gets to feel your silky skin under his fingers. Loverboy would gladly put your lotion on you, making sure you don’t get razor burn. Of course, it’s because he has to make sure his pretty girl is taken care of, not because he wants to touch your pussy, no, he would never. He doesn’t mind the prickly hair as it grows back, one time he had the nerve to say that it was exfoliating his face for the day when eating you out. That got him a wake to the head.

If you wax, he’s going to do the same thing, treating your pussy like she was injured, doting on her hand and foot.

“How is my pretty girl? I know, I can’t believe she would do this to you, to us.”

Sometimes he tilts his head so his ear is next to your bare cunt. “What’s that? She hurt you, ripped out all your pretty curls? Don’t worry, I’ll show her what happens when she treats you like this.”

Full bush, oh he couldn’t care less. The coarse curls don’t slow him down at all. He’ll still devour you like his last meal. So what if he may have to spit out a few hairs after, it’s worth it.

[tightjeansjavi]

The Menu | Part 4

“splinters in his knuckles bangin’ on your door”

A/N: remember that meme I posted earlier about how this was supposed to just be a silly little smut fic? Yeahhh about that..🥴

~word count: 6.3k~

Pairing | dark!joel miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel goes a little berserk after he doesn’t see you for almost an entire day.

Warnings: SA (not by Joel, not described in detail) implied prostitution, abuse of power/abuse by law enforcement, (FEDRA) unhealthy trauma response, degrading language, mentions of guns, threats, injures from punching a door, mentions of blood, removing splinters, dark!joel, mean!joel, protective!joel, is shit at communicating his feelings!joel, asshole!joel, FEDRA SUCKS, no smut, denial of feelings, stalking, possession, morally gray relationship to the reader, (they’re kinda toxic but it’s complicated) hurt feelings, angst, some fluff, age gap, (Joel is in his 40’s reader is in her late 20’s) reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni!

Joel Miller cracked under the pressure when almost an entire day went by without a lick of your presence. Cracking under the pressure was..a severe misjudgment. All rationale was thrown out the door; he had gone completely balls to the wall insane.

It started in the morning when you didn’t show up to your ‘job’ where you and Joel would spend grueling hours dumping deceased infected. Of course, everyone around him could give less of a shit about your absence. And why should they care? It was a dog eat dog world in the QZ. Every man for himself. To Joel? This was a real problem. A thorn in his side because, well, frankly? You might have meant more to him than just a vice to fill a void. Or a warm body to stick his dick in. Maybe he had reluctantly grown to care for you in his own Joel way.

So, when he found himself in line for his ration cards, his eyes zoned in on the FEDRA officer you fucked out of spite. The same one who did business at Joel’s table while Joel’s fingers fucked you to ruin. He had to start somewhere, right?

“Y’got a minute?” Joel asked casually as he shoved his ration cards into the pocket of his jeans.

“Shoot.” Benjamin, better known as Benji, what the fuck kinda name is that.

“Y’seen Angel around this mornin?’ She’s usually out here with me. Didn’t show up.”

“Nope.” Benji responded smoothly.

Joel’s brow raised as he studied the other man’s face intently. He was looking for any clues, any indication that maybe this Benji fellow had something to do with your bizarre absence.

“Right. Well, if ya see her, tell ‘er Joel’s lookin’ for her.” He shoved his hands deep into his jean pockets.

If Benji was good for anything, it was ratting QZ folks out. So, maybe he did know where you were. He had no viable reason to tell Joel shit. In fact, he was the main reason for your absence. Not only did he catch you out past curfew, but with a handful of contraband that could have easily gotten you a week in lockup. He showed you just a smidge of mercy simply for the fact that you offered him a blowjob just to keep your ass off the line, and only in lockup for one single day.

Joel had no business knowing that, of course.

“Well, well, well. Whad’we have here?” Benji stepped out from the shadows of the darkly lit alleyway as a FEDRA patrol vehicle drove by.

“One hour past curfew, Angel. That’s a deduction of cards, and a night in lockup.” He tsked.

Your face scrunched inwards, as if you had tasted something pungent and sour. “Benji? Fuck. C’mon, man. Just let me pass on through. It’ll be like I was never here.” You thought you were being fairly reasonable especially since he did a lot of business with Joel. You thought that maybe you could get yourself off the hook easily.

“Can’t do that, Angel.” He sighed.

“My name is not Angel. And yes, you can. Just pretend that you never saw me.”

“Oh.” He chuckled, shaking his head as he reached for his concealed handgun. “So, I guess buddy boy can call you Angel, but I can’t?”

For fuck sakes.

“Christ, is that what this is about? Who has the bigger dick? What, are you jealous or somethin?’” You egged him on as you reached for your own concealed gun before an unpleasant chill ran down your spine from the familiar clicking sound of the revolver.

“Jealous? Now, why would I be jealous, Angel? Ain’t you just a common street whore? You’ll let anyone stick their dick in ya if they pay well. Ah, but you got that Joel Miller wrapped around your pretty little finger. Everyone ‘round here knows he’s your guard dog. Where is he now, hm?” He cocked his head to the side.

“Look, Benji, you’re a good lookin’ guy and all that, but I fucked you out of spite. I’ll stroke your ego or whatever, but can I please just fuckin’ go home now?” You were exhausted from the grueling day. Your feet ached, your whole body felt like a bunch of pins and needles were stabbing it all at once. All you wanted was to go home, pour yourself a stiff glass, and have a smoke. Was it really too much to ask?

“Turn around. Hands against the wall. No sudden movements.” He ignored every word that left your mouth as if it meant nothing as if you truly were just a whore. For the first time in a long time, you felt dirty. Like something that was disposable. A toy that was no longer shiny and new, but dull and tattered. It made your blood boil.

“Benji—is that really necessary?” You tried to reason with him, but your attempts were fruitless.

“I said turn the fuck around and put your hands against the goddamn wall. Don’t make me ask you a third time, Angel. I ain’t have all night.” His jaw ticked impatiently.

“Okay. Okay. You don’t have to ask me again.” You reluctantly turned around with your hands above your head before placing your palms flat against the brick wall. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, slicing the skin open from the pressure as you tasted copper along your tongue when he yanked you back by the hips as if he owned them.

“That’s right. Because that Joel Miller sure turned you into an obedient little cockslut, didn’t he?” Benji chuckled deeply against the shell of your ear. His hot breath on your skin sent a wave of nausea crawling up your throat.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin’ about, Benji.” You hissed through your gritted teeth as he began to forcefully pat you down. You thought about trying to escape, but decided that would have been fucking reckless to even try.

“Oh, now what do we have here?” He said rather gleefully as he pulled out a baggy of pills. The same baggy of pills that Joel gave to you the night before to deliver to a client.

“Those aren’t mine.” Well, that was dumb.

“No? Hmm. You’re not good at this whole lyin’ game, Angel. Let’s see what else we got here.” He pulled out your gun from the belt loop of your jeans along with tinfoil wrapped cigarettes; fresh ones that Joel had rolled you.

“Well, my dear, you’re lookin’ at about a week in lockup just from this alone. Unless..” he trailed off knowing exactly what you’d offer him in return.

“You’re sick, y’know that?” You scoffed under your breath. Men really did only ever think with their dicks.

“Jus’ doin’ my job, Angel. So, what’re you gonna offer me, hmm? Make it good and I’ll only throw you in there for a day. Sounds fair?”

“Right. Your job at bein’ a fuckin’ rat? I’ll give you a blowie, right here, right now. I think that seems pretty fair, don’t you?” The sooner this is over, the sooner I get to go home.

“Hm.” He pondered it for a moment, as if he really had to think hard on your offer. “Deal. But I want you to act enthusiastic this time, and take your tits out. I’m gonna paint them and your face in my come, and you’re gonna sit there and fuckin’ take it, and if you don’t?” He flipped you around swiftly, caging you against the wall as he brought the barrel of the gun right against your temple, “I’ll spray your brains out right against this fuckin’ wall.”

This wasn’t the first time you had been threatened by a man in the QZ, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but the all too real gun being pressed against your forehead was alarming, and your brain went into compliance mode in an instant. Truthfully, you didn’t want to die, and certainly not in a manner such as this.

All you could think about as you slowly sank down to your knees, and as the pavement nipped at your exposed skin, was that Joel would never do something like this to you.

“Sure, you’ll be the first to know if I’ve seen her, Miller.” He nodded.

Something about Benji, and his stupid face, sent Joel’s hackles rising. But before he could even mutter a reply, Benji was walking away towards the other FEDRA officers.

Joel shook his head while he flipped through his ration cards for the day. He was doing his best to block out all the possible scenarios of your disappearance, but he failed miserably when he realized there was a high possibility that you were either dead, or infected. It happened more often than people would think.

The real start of his manhunt began after he confided in Tess in the utmost Joel fashion. He found himself pacing the length of his apartment while all she could do was watch from the entryway in the kitchen. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she leaned back against the countertop. Her eyes trailed after his frantic movements.

“Look, before you go thinkin’ about doin’ somethin’ reckless, did you ever stop to think that maybe she’s just in her apartment? She could have slept in—”

He cut her off sharply with a quick shake of his head. “Sleepin’ in? Really, is that all Y’got for me, Tess? I knew she should have just fuckin’ spent the night. She’s so goddamn stubborn. I would have even slept on the couch and she could have taken the bed if it was such a big deal. She’s so hot’n cold!” He growled frustratingly. His hands moved upwards towards his head as his fingers tangled through his hair, yanking at the roots till he was feeling a splice of pain. “Or, better yet, I should have just walked her home myself!”

“Texas, you’re actin’ fuckin’ insane right now! Pacin’ the goddamn apartment like a dog. Ripping your hair out?!” Just calm the fuck down for a second. Take some deep breaths, have a smoke or somethin’ and then let’s both think rationally.” She tried to reason with him. All this got her in return was a narrowed glare, a scoff and an eye roll.

“She could be fuckin’ dead, Tess! What if somethin’ happened between her leavin’ here last night and walkin’ back to her place?”

“I highly doubt she’s dead. And if she was, we would have heard about it by now, Joel. Do you want me to help you look for her? Cause I can start askin’ around.” She pushed herself off the side of the counter just as his pacing came to a complete standstill.

“Sure, yeah. Go ahead and ask around. But, before you do that, I need ya to tell me where Angel lives. I’m aware that you know, and that she doesn’t want me to know, but you’re gonna tell me either way.” He stated as a matter of factly.

“Joel, she doesn’t want you knowing where she lives for obvious reasons. How about you stay here, and I’ll go to her apartment. Like I said, I’m sure she’s just fine.”

“Yeah? Well, those reasons are irrelevant as of right now. So, quit your little girl code you got goin’ on with her or whatever, and tell me where the fuck her apartment is.”

Tess didn’t even bother to argue. She knew Joel long enough to know that he wasn’t going to stop until he found that you were safe. Otherwise, the unknown and the ‘what ifs’ would eat him alive, literally.

“You’re fuckin’ relentless, Texas. Y’know that?” She pulled out her own personal map of the QZ before laying it out on the worn down kitchen table. She pointed to your exact apartment building. “She’s on the third floor at the very end of the hall.”

“Yep. You damn right I am, Tess. You know me too well.” He merely glanced down at the spot on the map where Tess was pointing at before he snatched up the parchment, folding it neatly and tucked it into his back pocket.

“I’ll be needing that back, Texas.” Tess reminded him.

“And I’ll be bringin’ it right back as soon as I find her.” Joel responded smoothly, dripping in confidence to mask his true nature. Just like those women he used to sleep with, he could put up a facade with just a snap of his fingers.

“Yeah, well, you’re losin’ daylight. Better go find that Angel of yours.”

“Better me than anyone else.” Joel added with a curt nod. He left the apartment in a rush, skipping a few steps down the stairs. He never handled change of any kind all that well. Especially when you had become a constant in his life while living in this shit hole place. If something had happened to you, Joel would force himself to take all the blame. He felt responsible for you in some capacity.

“Swear to god when I find this girl..” he muttered to himself, shaking his head while slipping past the front door of the apartment building. Evening was steadfast on the horizon; he needed to move fast.

Was it something I said last night?

Was it because I asked her to stay?

Was it the goddamn strap on??

Is she avoiding me on purpose?

Is she dead?

Did she fuckin’ get infected?

Did..she find someone else?

These thoughts and more were swirling through his frantic brain. He fucking hated the fear of the unknown. Absolutely despised the whole entire notion of its existence. He’d much prefer when things were yanked off like a bandaid. Quick and mostly painless.

He triple checked Tess’s map the entire trek to your apartment building. He had no time to fuck this up, and to the passerby he probably looked like a crazed man; which would be an accurate statement given the circumstances.

Your apartment building was nearly an exact replica of his own. Same shitty staircase, peeling wallpaper, the occasional cry of an infant, or scream of a child. Just the day-to-day sounds of the QZ that we’re all white noise to Joel.

When he found himself standing outside your door, he scoffed at the faded “Welcome :)” mat outside of your door beneath his boots. The smiley face had nearly rubbed off entirely, and he wondered if the mat had been there by your doing, or the previous inhabitants.

Focus, Joel.

He pressed the side of his head against the outside of the door, falling silent as he listened with his good ear for any movements on the other side.

Nothing.

“Angel? Y’in there, doll?” He asked through the thin wood.

Silence.

“Look, I’m sorry if I said somethin’ to upset you last night, but I haven’t seen you all fuckin’ day, and I’m real worried that somethin’ bad happened to ya. So, if you’re in there, can you please say something?”

Nothing.

“Okay. Okay, so maybe I do deserve the silent treatment after I made you hold my cock in your mouth like a cum bucket whore, but it was uh—out of affection? And if you’re upset that I asked ya to stay the night, then I’m sorry. It was just late and I wanted to—”

This is fucking stupid.

“Can you fuckin’ answer me, please? Just fuckin’ say something!” He growled, throwing his fists against the door once for good measure. “I’m about five seconds away from lookin’ like a complete and utter psychopath if you don’t open this goddamn door!” His frustration was on the cusp of boiling over, like a kettle on the stove.

“Okay, so we’re gonna play the silent game, huh?! I swear to god, Angel. If you’re behind this goddamn door and you’re ignoring me on purpose?! Good god, girl. You got another thing comin’ for ya!” He laughed, one of those unfriendly, chills down the spine, oh shit! I’m fucked kinda laughs.

Joel Miller had completely lost all remaining shreds of rationale.

“I’m gonna give you to the count of five to open this fuckin’ door, y’hear me?!” He snarled threateningly.

“Five.”

“Four.”

“Three.”

He didn’t even get to two before his fists absolutely began to rain down on your doorframe. The cord had snapped and he was fully spiraling without giving a damn of who could see or hear him.

With adrenaline, rage, and fear pumping through his veins, he couldn’t even feel the skin along his knuckles being absolutely torn to shreds from how hard he was laying his fists into the wood.

It's like he had completely blacked out and all he could see was red. Red. Red. Red. Red.

Benji was ‘generous’ enough to let you out of being in lockup early and sent you right back out onto the streets. Ridden with exhaustion, you practically dragged yourself back to your apartment with only the thought of a stiff drink and your bed bringing you some form of motivation to keep going.

Your keys jingled in your grasp while you trudged up the stairs. You were oh so close to just plopping down in the hallway, but your apartment was only just down the hall. You could make it.

You passed by one of your neighbors on your way. And when you went to wave, they completely avoided making eye contact with you at all costs. Somehow you just knew that Joel was involved in this behavior, but how the hell did he know where you lived?

Then, you heard the sounds of banshee yelling intensifying the closer you drew to your door.

Jesus fucking Christ. Can’t a girl catch a break?

When you turned the corner, you were met with a grizzly bear of a man. Joel Miller had nearly beaten your door in with just his bare fists. You weren’t even all that shocked to see him outside of your apartment, but, nonetheless, you were pissed.

You leaned against the corner of the hallway, arms crossed against your chest and a displeased, yet mildly amused look plastered on your face.

“Joel?”

He whipped around in an instant at the familiar sound of your voice. His eyes were wide, nostrils flared, blood dripping down between the ridges of his knuckles, staining the already faded carpet crimson beneath his boots.

He looked crazy.

“Where in the fuck have you been? Do you know how fuckin’ worried I’ve been all goddamn day?! Huh, sweet girl? Do you have any idea—”

“You’re bleeding, sweet boy.” You mumble softly. You had hoped that you could advert his attention, but he was already stalking towards you, something indescribable flashes in his eyes when you call him, ‘sweet boy.’

“Yeah, baby.” He huffs out a raspy laugh. “I’ve got splinters in my knuckles bangin’ on your door. Tore ‘em all up.”

He’s so close now that you can taste his breath and see that flicker of fear in his eyes. His hands encaged around your face. Soft, wet from the blood, but gentle.

Droplets of blood trail down your neck and down the clavicle between your covered breasts. You shouldn’t be turned on—but that cunt of yours has a mind of her own, sometimes.

“Joel, you didn’t have to show up here like a crazy man and nearly go and break down my door.”

He glares, bloodstained thumb swiping across your lower lip. “Don’t tell me what I did and didn’t have to do, Angel. Haven’t seen you all day. Thought you were fuckin’ dead or somethin.’”

“Yeah, well, I’m not dead. I’m right here. Why the hell did you even care in the first place, huh? Can’t even go one day without losing your cool?” It’s your turn to challenge him now. You place your palms flat on his chest, giving him a firm shove.

He glared, eyes narrowing into slits. His head cocked to the side in a condescending manner. His jaw clenched and unclenched. He dropped his hands from your face only to then encage your wrists above your head. He used his sheer mass to press your back directly against the hallway wall. He loomed over you to appear more menacing, like a predator going in for the kill. “Who said anythin’ about me caring, huh? Is that why you think I’m here, Angel? Cus’ I care?” He questioned, pushing you further into the wall. His chest was pressed right against yours, leaving you no room to escape, let alone breathe.

“Why would I give a damn where my whore on stilts wandered off to? Y’think you mean anythin’ to me other than a hole to fuck? Don’t be so naive.” He scoffed.

“You have got to be the worst fuckin’ liar, Joel. Right. You don’t care. You just happened to track down where I live, proceeded to bust down my door, just because I’m a hole for you to fuck? Right. Keep on telling yourself that, buddy boy. Keep livin’ in your delusions. See how far that gets ya.” You held in your laugh from slipping past. Could he not see that you were exhausted? You had been beaten down enough as it was, you didn’t need Joel fucking Miller pushing you down further.

“That’s it? That’s all y’can say to me? No bite back? No fuck you Joel? What the hell happened to you, huh?” He pressed further, tightening his hold around your wrists. “What happened after you left my place last night, Angel?” His tone was much softer now, gentle, laced with concern.

You couldn’t keep up with his mood swings if you tried. Joel Miller was one hot and cold man.

“No. We are not about to do this again. Not when in one breath you’re a complete asshole, and the next?!” You laughed bitterly. “Joel, I’m fuckin’ exhausted, okay? I had a shit night, and I just want to go and have a stiff drink. If you want to join, then be my guest, but I won’t take another minute of your bitching. Y’got that?”

Joel found himself studying your face. He thought that maybe he could read between the lines and figure out exactly why you were so exhausted, but you weren’t budging, not even for him. What was that bit about him fucking hating the fear of the unknown? Oh, yeah.

“Angel, look..I’m—”

“Oh, fuck no. You are not about to apologize for that. No. You meant every word, Joel. You don’t get to take that back.” You shook your head in disappointment, breaking your wrists free from his gradually loosening grip before you pulled away entirely.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

You didn’t even wait to see if he would follow you, you could care less if he did, or didn’t. With your keys in hand you unlocked your door, muttering about how it probably wouldn’t lock properly anymore from the damage Joel inflicted on it.

Joel’s fingers twitched at his side. He was silently debating his options. It was pointly obvious that something had happened to you, but he had no right to pry. His footsteps followed yours like a shadow.

“You should probably get your knuckles patched up.” You muttered under your breath while carelessly tossing your keys onto the kitchen counter.

“They’ll be alright. Nothin’ I can’t handle.” He replied smoothly and shoved his hands into the deep caverns of the pockets on the front of his worn jeans.

“I have a first aid kit in the bathroom.” You stated plainly. Your back was facing him behind the counter while you grabbed your stashed bottle of whiskey, and two glasses.

He was observing you with a careful eye when you turned around to face him. “Are you offering to patch up my self-inflicted wounds, baby?” He asked in a crackling rasp, like logs on a fire.

“Sure. If that’s how you want to phrase it.” You shrugged before popping the cap off the bottle with your teeth. You poured a generous splash of the amber colored liquor into both glasses. You opted to take a quick swig from the bottle, needing that little bit of relief to kick in sooner, rather than later.

“Why?” He questioned. He reached for the glass, guiding it towards him before he snatched it up in his hand. He took a hefty sip, letting the warmth from the liquor spread through his system like a warm hug.

“Are you really that fuckin’ stupid, Joel?” You wanted to laugh, but it came out more like a strained scoff if anything.

“‘Fraid so, my Angel.” He smirked over the rim of the cloudy glass.

“Guess the apocalypse shrunk men’s already pea sized brains even more.” You muttered with a shake of your head before downing the liquor from your glass in one swift gulp. Your hand wrapped around his thick wrist, and before he could protest, you were dragging him to your bathroom.

“Sit” you commanded with a gesture to the closed toilet seat.

“Look, you really don’t have to do all this, it’s justa—”

You interjected swiftly, giving him a stern glare before grabbing the first aid kit from behind the cabinet door that was barely holding on by the hinges. “Okay, so then leave, Joel.”

His brows furrowed at your response, and his lips pursed tightly. He ultimately decided to plop down on the toilet seat with a huff. “Are you going to tell me where the hell you’ve been all day? Or are you just gonna keep avoidin’ my question?”

“If you’re good, then I’ll tell you. Cause frankly, right now? I’m sick of your shit, Joel. But somehow, some way, my cold cold heart has a shred of kindness left for you.”

He scoffed, resting his head back against the peeling wallpaper. “You’re sick of my shit?”

“Yes. Because you’re a fuckin’ asshole, Joel. How many times am I going to repeat myself? Normal people don’t stalk someone, attempt to break down their door, and then demand to know where they’ve been all day!”

“Oh boy, we’re still on that topic?” He placed his bloodstained hands on his knees and shook his head before he sat back. “So, what would you rather me have done, hmm? Sweetheart, I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he gestured with his hands, “it wasn’t like I could fuckin’ call you up! Do you see a phone in sight anywhere? No? Wow, I wonder why! It’s almost like we’re in a fuckin’ apocalypse!” He said with sarcasm dripping with every breath.

And then you threw Joel Miller for a loop when you whipped out a fucking spray bottle and sprayed his snarky ass right in the face!

It didn’t even matter where the hell you found the damn spray bottle in the first place, it was the fact that you had the balls to spray him in the face, not once, but twice when he went to open his mouth. You swore you could see the steam rising from the water droplets on his skin. Like he was an animated bull from those old animated movies. Nostrils flaring red hot flames, smoke billowing from his ears. The tea kettle had reached its boiling point.

On the opposite end of the spray bottle, you saw that very bull with steam spewing. He was flabbergasted, bewildered at your rash decision. “Did you just fuckin’ spray me like I’m a goddamn cat or somethin?!’” His voice boomed like an overhead crack of thunder unleashing its rage in a crescendo.

“I did.”

“And why the hell did you think that you could jus—go’n spray me in the face like that?!”

“You say an awful lot of stupid and hurtful shit to me, Joel Miller. You hurt my feelings, pissed me off, and I’ve just about had it. So, everytime you open that big fuckin’ mouth of yours and say somethin’ mean and stupid, I’m gonna spray you in the face with this.” You waved the spray bottle around for a moment to get your point across.

Displeased, drenched like a damn cat, Joel sent daggers your way with one harsh glare. “Oh, I didn’t realize we were throwin’ a fuckin’ pity party ontop of all of this.” He scoffed.

“Did you not—” you laughed incredulously, “hear a goddamn word I just said? Fine. Well, let me remind you what happens when you’re fuckin’ stupid!” You sprayed him again.

This time he shut up..for now.

“Refreshing.” He mumbled very much like a dog with its tail between its legs.

You set the spray bottle down along the edge of the counter where it was in arm's reach, before you sank down between his spread knees with the first aid kit tucked under your armpit. “Let me see just what kinda damage you’ve done to your beautiful hands, Joel.” Your voice was much softer now compared to moments earlier. At least now you had him tamed and compliant.

“I didn’t break ‘em. Although, if you hadn’t shown up, I probably would have. And they ain’t beautiful, Angel. They’re ugly.” He gruffed out.

“They’re beautiful to me, Joel.” You reached for his hands once they were presented in front of you. The blood had already begun to congeal and dry in some places. “Yeah, you definitely have some splinters in there that are gonna have to come out.”

“Fuck no. Just leave ‘em.” He shook his head.

For the first time in over 24 hours, you smiled. It was really just a slight tug of your lips, but it was there. “Are you afraid of tweezers or somethin?’” You mused.

He scowled at your question and picked a spot on the wall to stare at so he didn’t have to make eye contact. “No.” He grumbled, jaw ticking under the dangling bathroom light.

“You sure about that?” You asked while placing the first aid kit alongside you on the floor. You popped it open, rifling through the different aids before pulling out disinfectant spray and tweezers.

“Crystal.” He confirmed.

“Ookay.” You did your best to hide your little grin while you held the disinfectant spray a few inches above his hands. “This might sting a little.” You softly warned him.

He barely flinched when he felt the sudden coolness from the spray adhering to his open wounds. His nose did twitch the slightest when the stinging sensation settled in.

“You’re being an excellent patient for me, Mr. Miller. Maybe if you’re a good boy for the next part, I’ll reward you with a lollipop.”

He finally looked at you, tearing his gaze from the wallpaper to meet your eyes. His lips curved upwards into a small smirk. “Sounds wonderful, Doctor. Do you promise to be gentle?” He played along.

“Always, Joel.” You replied.

His eyes stayed locked on your own for what felt like hours, neither of you quite ready to break the contact just yet. He cleared his throat, shifting along the closed toilet seat. “Uh, will..you hold my hand? I lied about the tweezer thing. Splinters hurt like a bitch, and uh—yeah.” He muttered under his breath while the heat began to rise rapidly to his cheeks. Even the tips of his ears turned beet red.

“If it’ll make you feel more comfortable, Joel.” You nodded reassuringly. Your left hand reached for his own when he had pulled back slightly in a jerking movement. You could sense his palpable hesitation radiating off of him before he finally relaxed.

“This is stupid.” He said suddenly, feeling more bashful as the seconds ticked by.

“It’s not stupid at all, Joel. Splinters are no fun at all.”

I mean, This. Me and you. It’s stupid. I shouldn’t be blushing like a schoolgirl right now. And over what? Holding hands? He thought to himself.

He’s kinda sweet..in his own Joel way. You thought silently to yourself.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Sweet. Sweet. Sweet.

“Get on with it, please.” He nearly whispered when his left hand finally reached towards your own. He was the one to thread his fingers through yours and let your entwined hands rest along his left thigh comfortably.

It took all of twenty minutes for you to successfully remove every splinter from his hands. Some fragmented pieces of wood were a bit deeper than others. He was a real champ, and you surprised him with a kiss. A soft reward that he felt he was undeserving of.

“I think you should let them breathe a bit longer and then we’ll bandage up.” You said while moving to stand back up. Your left hand was still engulfed in his own when he stopped you from standing up.

“Aren’t you gonna kiss them all better, doctor?” He asked with a tilt of his head. He looked like a puppy with his tousled, wild hair, and big brown eyes staring at you.

You found your lips kissing his broken skin before you even had a chance to respond. A kiss was pressed to each knuckle in an affectionate manner.

He broke the silence when your hand departed from his and you busied yourself with putting away the first aid kit.

“Are you going to tell me what happened to you out there, or are we gonna keep dancin’ around the subject?” He asked rather softly. Almost as if he was concerned.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Joel.”

Please don’t ask me again.

“Angel..”

“Let’s go finish our drinks.” You interjected with a hidden fake smile.

His eyes follow your silhouette when you swiftly remove yourself from the small bathroom. He shakes his head with a sigh before he finally stands up. He eyes the spray bottle still resting along the bathroom counter, and in an extremely cat-like fashion, he swiftly knocks it over into the trash bin below.

Good riddance.

When Joel left your bathroom, he soon found you with your feet tucked under your thighs on the far end of the couch. You appeared to be staring off into space while you nursed your glass of whiskey in silence. He really wasn’t quite sure what to think of your behavior, let alone how he should approach you.

Nonetheless he grabbed his own glass and joined you on the couch. Your eyes stayed focused on the wall even when you felt the old cushions dip down from Joel’s weight pressing down on them gradually.

He swirled the contents around in his glass absentmindedly before he took a small sip. You could feel his eyes along the side of your head when he moved the glass to rest between his knees.

“I really wish you would jus’..talk to me, sweetheart.” He rasped softly while he twiddled with his fingers that weren’t wrapped around the glass. He was never really good at having these types of conversations, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try one last time.

You shifted uncomfortably from his words. You didn’t want to tell him what happened to you in that disgusting alley. Or the way that Benji’s touch made you feel nauseous. You didn’t want to tell Joel that you were made to feel like literal human trash. Pond scum, gum beneath men’s shoes. You didn’t want to confess that you spent a night in lockup, crying against the cold concrete till your body could no longer produce tears while Benji, and a few of his FEDRA friends proceeded to violate you further, stripping you of your autonomy and dignity with grime stained fingernails, and cruel laughter. Nothin’ but a common street whore, that one. Make her gag on it. I wanna see tears streaming down those pretty fuckin’ cheeks, boys. Miller ain’t here to save you now, Angel. You belong to us.

You didn’t want Joel to believe that you were this broken, damaged person. You didn’t want him to take pity on you. That was quite literally the last thing you wanted from him. But, you were only human, after all, and pain had a sneaky way of revealing itself even when you had done everything possible to cloak it.

He watched as you drained the contents of your glass wordlessly before you slipped down from the couch, falling to your knees between his thighs.

She loves it, don’t be fooled boys. She loves to be fucked like a dirty little whore. Ain’t that right, Angel? Joel Miller got her all obedient, just for us. She’ll do anythin’ you ask of her.

“Angel.” He started, words lodging in his throat. Something about this felt wrong.

You ignored him, reaching for his belt with trembling fingers as you worked it open.

Cus’ a whore is all you’ll ever be, sweetheart. The best pussy in all of the fuckin’ QZ. Bet he’ll smell me all over ya, Angel. I hope he does. I hope that guard dog can fuckin’ taste my come inside of ya next time he takes you.

Joel finds himself frozen in time when he sees the way your fingers tremble. He’s stunned and unsure what he should do in this situation. He’s never seen you like this before. He’s used to your brashness. Your confidence. Your swift, snarky, sarcastic remarks. The woman on her knees between his thighs is not you. He knows then that he has to stop this. He has to say something.

“Angel, baby. I don’t think we—” he struggles to find the right words to say. To be delicate, but firm. This had nothing to do with his own feelings, and had everything to do with yours. “This doesn’t feel right, sweetheart.”

Your heart sinks to the pits. He knows. He fucking knows. He knows, and thinks you to be worthless, just like the rest of them.

You sink back along your thighs, tears pooling in your eyes. “You don’t..want me anymore, Joel?” You ask above a whisper, holding on by a mangled thread.

He shakes his head slowly, his heart breaking in the process.

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