#this immediately made me have a panic attack and now i have to stay up all night writing an essay in a desparate attempt to pacify one of th

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part 5

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.5k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI, no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Stalking. Brief mention of domestic violence. Feelings of fear, self loathing, and anxiety. Vomiting. Panic attack/comfort. Medical inaccuracies, hospital setting. A little bit of praise. Johnny is a flirt and a menace.

“Ye’re off yer head.” 

“I’m not.” Johnny expects Simon to relent, to give it up, but when he doesn’t budge, something hot sizzles alive in the pit of Johnny’s stomach, desire roaring to life in his veins. 

“Jus’ like that? Ye’re goin’ let me see yer bonnie face finally?” He slurs, lifting the bottle to his lips, and Simon nods.

“Only if you win."

“And if ye win?” Simon moves closer, his chest brushing against Johnny’s, balaclava covered face dipping down, noses nudging against one another’s in a tentative, teasing way. 

“If I win, you’ll remove something of my choosing instead.” 

Your phone is ringing.

In your sleep, you hardly recognize it, but your subconscious is well trained, and your hand seeks the source of the noise effortlessly, dragging it from the nightstand and next to your face, to squint blearily at it, awareness coming quickly when you recognize the charge nurse’s work line.

“Hello?” You clear the cobwebs of sleep from your throat.

“Hey, sorry to wake you.”

“No, ‘s alright. What’s going on?”

“I know it’s your day off, but-“

“You’re short.” You fill in the blanks, and she huffs.

“We’ve got two out with flu like symptoms, and I’m floating another to-“

“It’s okay.” You swing your feet over the edge of the bed, rubbing your eyes. “I got you. Just give me like, an hour? I have to get ready and stuff.”

“Of course. Thanks so much, you’re a lifesaver.” You zone out for a moment, plotting out the rest of your day, and mumble something like ‘don’t worry about it’, ending the call with your thumb.

The hotel carpet is plush. It’s cushioned and soft, and it gives a little when you stand and stretch, pulling your arms over your head, twisting and turning with tired bones, shaking loose the stupor that holds your neck too straight, too tightly.

OT isn’t the worst thing in the world right now, considering you’re paying for a long term stay in a hotel, you tell yourself more than a few times as you shower and dress. You should be grateful for it. Understaffing has it’s benefits, financially.

The only wrench about coming in on your day off this week is you’re supposed to be collecting more things from your flat. Particularly, clothing. You’ve only got a short rotation of outfits, scrubs, both in short supply, and… no clean underwear. You had planned to move large chunks of your wardrobe over today, probably at least two trips worth, but will now have to settle for stopping by fairly quick to grab what you can.

It will be fine, you think, casually checking your surroundings as you step off the platform. In and out and on with your day.

You were wrong.

You see it immediately, stepping through the door. The locks are in place, handle, deadbolt, extra one at the top, but you can tell, you can feel, that someone has been in here. Your blood thickens in your veins, freezing to a stop, sluggishly propelled by your frenzied heart. You can hear it in your ears, the thunder of your panic, can feel the fear twisting itself into a sailor’s knot and holding you hostage.

Your feeling is confirmed, rationalized, when you push your bedroom door ajar and see the carnage of what’s been left behind on top of your bed.

Shredded panties.

The entire underwear drawer has been spilled out across your sheets, lace and cotton and silk all ripped to pieces, torn edges clearly made by hands, not knives, not scissors, but the personal touch of fingers, of fists.

Your breath catches in your chest, oxygen in the room falling away, leaving you panting, gasping for your next inhale as you cautiously pick up a pair close to you. They’re grey cotton boy shorts, and your stomach flips up into your throat when they stand as stiff as a board, some sort of dried substance splattered across them, rendering the fabric firm and inflexible.

Not… not just some dried substance… you realize in horror, scanning the pile of panties, noticing the stains on most of them, a milky white color shining against black silk.

You can’t breathe. You stumble away, back slamming into your dresser, sinking down onto the floor, hands covering your ears.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be real. 

This is sick, even for him. An escalation of disturbing behavior that sends a chill down your spine, frightening you even more than you already were. You knew he’d get in, hoped he would buy your carefully crafted lie: the appearance of you still living there… but to act so brazenly, to do something like… this.

Does he know, does he realize, you’re not actually living in the flat now? 

He’s really going to kill you this time. 

You race to the toilet, heaving yourself over the seat as your breakfast rushes past your lips, a cup of coffee and half eaten muffin accentuated by the sting of bile, and you gag, spitting and hacking until you’re finished, flushing it all away.

You don’t look at the girl in the mirror. You don’t want to see her. Don’t want to tell her all the ways you’re letting her down. She thinks you’re smarter than this, stronger. Braver. She believes you’ve done it once before, you’ve escaped, you’ve hid, and you can do it again.

She doesn’t know you’re not sure you have the heart for it now. She doesn’t realize you’re tired, you’re afraid. She doesn’t understand that you like the life you’ve made, that running is exhausting, that sometimes, in the very darkest corners of your mind, you think that letting him win might be easiest.

So, you don’t look at her. You mourn your pile of panties for a too long second and lock the apartment up tight.

Get it together. Get yourself together. 

You coach yourself the entire way to work, trying to ignore the rubbing and bunching of your scrub pants, an unfortunate consequence of being forced to go commando.

Deep breath. You can do this. 

You still have your sanctuary. 

You had hoped, for a miniscule moment, that your day might improve once you step foot in the hospital, and you pushed away the inkling that suggested that optimism may be linked the fact that you’ll get to see Simon and Johnny, opting not to even acknowledge the strange sensations swirling about inside your heart whenever you think about the other day. The day when the world stood still and Johnny touched your hand so gently, stroking his fingers over your skin, or when the elevator doors parted to reveal Simon and their baby, a sweet baby girl safe in his arms, his eyes alight and adoring, your knees almost giving out at the sight.

Needless to say, you’re eager to badge in.

The day is quickly derailed, when within a half an hour of getting settled into your routine, an alarm goes off for two sixty-eight: thirty-nine degrees.

Your mind immediately somersaults to the pain in his upper right quadrant from your last shift, logical thought leaping all around as you jog down the hall.

You notated it. You passed it on in shift report. It’s only thirty-nine. You did everything right. No one here would just disregard something like that. Deep breath. 

Still… 

Bile leak. Abscess. Infection. Or worse… hepatic artery pseudoaneurysm, hemorrhaging. Big things that could lead to worse things, worse outcomes, worse- 

The door comes up quicker than you realize, and without hesitating, you slip inside.

“Hi.” You’re a little breathless, and Simon’s eyes snap to yours, taking you in, studying from head to toe, brow knitted together. Johnny’s asleep, and you’re not sure if that makes you feel better, or worse.

“Everything alright?” Of course. He’s too perceptive. Get control of yourself, it could be nothing.

“Yeah, I ah… have to draw some blood.” You really do not want to wake your patient, or alarm Simon, but you refuse to lie. You fire off a text to the attending on call, advising him of Johnny’s temperature and reminding him of the upper right quadrant pain, letting him know he can expect labs as soon as you get them downstairs. You give Simon a nod, turning to slide the draw open quietly, pulling out everything you’ll need. His gaze burns a hole in your scrubs, the ever-present scrutiny impossible to escape, and sometimes you wonder if he’s reading your mind.

“What’s wrong? He just fell asleep, Pen was here all morning, tired him out.” His protest is husky, and you think he’s frowning behind the mask. You imagine a strong mouth pulled downwards in consternation; wide jaw gnashed tight with worry.

“He’s running just a bit of a fever.” He jolts, and you shake your head, hoping to soothe his fear. “It’s not too high. I’m not super worried, but we’ll need to check his white cell count, just in case, okay? And then we’ll go from there.” He nods.

“You said this could happen.” You smile. It feels unsteady, but you hope he can’t tell.

“I did. I promised, that if there was something to panic about, I would tell you. We’re not there yet.” It’s not a lie. Your wild spiral from a few minutes ago was an extreme, not reality, and you need to keep your head on.

“Okay.”

“Right. So, just going to do a quick blood draw and get it downstairs so we can find out what’s going on.” Simon shifts uncomfortably, and you carefully squeeze Johnny's arm, wrapping him with the tie and swabbing the inside of his elbow as fast as possible.

He blinks, eyes opening slowly, confused brow smoothing when he realizes you’re leaning over him, and his gaze darts to Simon before landing back on you. “There’s our bunny.” He mumbles softly, and your face heats, eyes widening in surprise before you regulate your reaction, and Simon coughs. Loudly. Bunny? 

“Such a flirt, MacTavish.” You playfully chastise him, relieved he’s feeling like himself. “I just need to get some blood and then I’ll leave you in peace to sleep.” He shrugs, but Simon rubs a thumb against his thigh in tiny little circles, too fast to be considered comfort, and Johnny clucks. “Ah, come on Si.”

“You’re runnin’ a fever, Johnny.”

“Ach. ‘s nothing.” He brushes it off, but his eyes are slow to track Simon’s movements, and you casually sneak a peek at the monitor, noting his blood pressure.

“Could be.” You assure him, smoothing a hand over his shoulder and taping a small patch of gauze over the puncture. “But better safe than sorry, right?”

The labs are inconclusive. The attending hems and haws before finally asking you to schedule a stat ultrasound of his abdomen, and you manage to bump him to the front of the queue, pulling a few strings here and there by rattling off some bullshit about being higher priority.

In the time it takes for the tech to get to two sixty-eight with the machine, you get a new admission. Intubated, but awake, and getting them and their family squared away takes longer than you would have liked, the patient’s middle-aged husband a wreck of nerves and worry, the kind of anxiety that makes you sit with him in the room for a little while, patting his hand and promising that you’ll be there for them, every step of the way.

By the time you step out of that room, it’s been nearly an hour. You catch a glimpse of Simon in the chairs outside two sixty-eight, and you throw him one of your best work smiles, hoping to reassure him, soothe his nerves. You want to go to him, want to sit beside him and talk him through everything, the outcomes, the possibilities, but you still need to add the notes for your new admit, and-

Someone catches your eye from the end of the hall. It’s a man, white, with brown hair, in regular clothes, and he stands taller than the others around him, shoulders rolled back just- just like-

No. You force yourself to look, to truly see him, taking in his facial features, the slope of his nose, and it’s hardly a second before you’re realizing it’s not who you thought it was. It’s not him. 

The second doesn’t matter to your heart. It’s already racing, tripling it’s steady pace inside your chest. You’re shaking, trembling in the middle of the hall, frantically looking for the nearest closet, or empty room, or…

Stairwell. There’s a stairwell just beyond where Simon is anxiously waiting, and you beeline to it, nearly tripping over your own feet past him. You think you hear your name being called, but the blood rushing in your ears is too loud, and you can’t be sure. Either way, it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters right now is getting away. Hiding. Not letting yourself be noticed.

You take the first flight down, stopping on the landing to rest your face against the polished, cold wall, desperately trying to fill your lungs with air, encouraging yourself to breathe.

It wasn’t him. You’re safe. 

Deep breath. You can do this. 

Your fingers dig into your hips, squeezing through the numbness, through the overwhelming feeling of your impending doom, and your head swims, lightheadedness nearly knocking you off balance.

“It wasn’t him.” You whisper aloud. “It’s not him. You’re safe. Get it together.” You chant, eyes clenched tight. Your heart is still pounding, no sign of relenting, and your lungs burn, screaming inside you, desperate for air. The feeling of suffocating, of dying, grows stronger, gaining momentum, and your eyes slam shut, your mind and body locked in a tomb of panic and fear. 

You hear your name again. It’s sharper, authoritative, but you can’t open your eyes, too overwhelmed to even make sense of it. Deep breath, just breathe.  

Something touches your shoulder. It’s unexpected, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you register it as gentle, but you’re too far gone, too far buried beneath your fear and your panic and your shame. It triggers you into a defensive posture, and you flinch so hard you jostle yourself into the wall, turning into the corner, hands out in front of your face.

“Hey, hey.” It’s Simon. Simon is standing in the stairwell with you, palms open, concern heavy in his eyes, and you vaguely realize he’s talking, soft, deep words washing over you. “-to breathe?” He comes closer, only half a step, but it’s enough to startle you back into the corner, and he stops short. “It’s alright. I’m not going to touch you.” He soothes, and you recognize the pitch, the calm, affectionate tone from Johnny’s bedside. Sour nausea surges in your stomach, and your lungs fight the invisible hand that tightens around them. “Can you take a deep breath?” You shake your head, and he huffs a soft chuckle. “You can do it, just try. Through your nose, like this.” His chest expands, eye contact never breaking, and you try to follow suit, getting halfway before your head spins, vision tunneling. “You’re alright.”

You’re not alright. None of this is alright. You’re having a panic attack, in the stairwell at your job, in front of a patient’s partner. 

You can’t speak, so you shake your head instead. No.

“Yes, you are.” He assures. “Everything’s okay. Focus on your breathing. Try another one for me.” His hand covers his heart, and you focus on the way it ebbs and flows with the movement of his diaphragm, the pace of his breaths.

You manage to get one full inhale and exhale. And then you get another. Then a third, a fourth, until it’s coming easier, and your head doesn’t feel as fuzzy.

“Good job, that’s it.” Your fingers twist together, the grating noise of your jagged breathing smoothing out even more, and Simon nods encouragingly. “You’re doing great, sweetheart. Nice and slow.” Sweetheart. The word is bright, boundless and sweet as honey, the sentiment settling in your belly and growing warm. The two of you stand there, just breathing, staring at one another, for what feels like an eternity, until you find the strength to summon words. 

“I-I’m sorry.” You finally choke once you’ve got a better handle on yourself, hands going lax at your thighs.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about.” You’re about to brush it off, thorny lies starting to form in your mind, excuses and carefully crafted explanations fusing together when your work phone beeps, the low frequency different from the ones related to patient care. Shit. Already? Simon’s glances at it in your pocket and cocks his head.

“End of my shift.” You explain, moving towards the stairs, your hand trembling on the button to silence the alarm. The muscles in his neck flex, molars grinding together.

“Still feeling a little shaky?” He observes, and you look down to your feet, mortification crawling up your spine, blooming across your cheeks through heated blood vessels.

“Um…”

“Would you mind, maybe sitting with Johnny for a bit?” You do still have notes to do. “If his test is done? I have to run home, help the Prices' put Penny down. She’s been a bit fickle, lately. Missin’ her Da.” He rubs the back of his neck, chest flexing inside the charcoal grey hoodie, and for a weird, too long second, you wonder what it might be like to fall asleep there, or just close your eyes for a minute, even though it's something sweet and far away, unobtainable in every facet. Simon says your name, jogging your attention, and then takes the first step, partially turning like he wants to reach for you, but thinks better of it.

“Uh. Yeah, I… I can.”

You badge out and grab your stuff, keeping your tablet so you can complete your notes while you sit with Johnny. You’ve already checked his results, and when you slip inside the room, the attending is updating them, explaining how he has a very small bile leak, and will need an endoscopic procedure tomorrow morning.

The attending excuses himself, giving you a quick nod, and then Simon leans down, knocking their foreheads together tenderly. 

“Keep an eye on him, I hear he likes to make trouble.” Johnny smiles, pink-red color creeping up his neck into his cheeks, and Simon seems like he’s smiling, before he turns serious. “Behave. I won’t be too long.”

“I always behave.” He pats the side of the bed, beckoning you, and you shake your head, plopping down in the recliner to his right.

“I hear ye’re keepin’ me company, pretty girl?”

“I am. Got some notes to finish, heard this chair was pretty comfortable.” You quip back easily, and it feels natural, to be joking and laughing, to be hiding again.

“Well, I’ll try not to distract ye then.”

Your tablet clicks dark with a satisfying shutter, and when you place it face down, Johnny gives you one of his stupidly handsome smiles. “All finished?”

“Yeah, not too bad.” His phone vibrates against the tabletop, and with his good hand, he opens the message, turning it to show you the screen. It’s a picture of Penny, half asleep against Simon, clad in a pink onesie covered in little ducks. Her cheek is squished against him, long baby lashes fluttering on her skin. “She’s so cute.” You say, and he nods, flushed with pride. You glance at the contact name, Lou, and before you can stop yourself, a question bursts out: “Who’s Lou?”

“Our captain’s wife. She’s been helpin’ a lot, with Pen. Which is great, they’re getting a lot of girl time.”

“Your captain?”

“Aye.”

“Is that…” you want to ask but trail off. You don’t want to admit that you’ve heard gossip about them.

“Military. Simon an’ I work together, in a task force.” A task force. A task force sounds eerily close to special ops, and your nausea comes back with a vengeance.

“What… what kind of task force?”

“Global ops. Anti-terrorism, domestic threats, the lot. How I ended up here, with ye.” The image of your ex looms, his body tense in his gear, or the memory of his boots, sitting shiny by the door, one of them pulling back, swinging towards your stomach. “Bun?” Bun?

“Huh?” you blink. “Oh, sorry. Spaced out there for a second.”

“That’s alright. Simon said ye had a bit of a scare earlier?”

“No I uh, just couldn’t catch my breath, but I was fine. It was fine.” You deflect, moving on as quick as you can manage. “Did you call me bun? And… didn’t you call me bunny, earlier?” He gives you a sheepish look.

“Aye. Is our nickname for ye.”

“Wait, what? Why?”

“Well… ye look a bit like a bunny, and ye had that sticker the other day that Penny noticed.” Your face heats. “I know ye’re probably real soft like a bun, too.” Real soft? Is he… does he mean- your eyes widen, and he smirks.

“Johnny.” You flounder, helplessly, confused by his attention, this flirtation that seems to have grown into real affection, and he shifts slightly, leaning forward, reaching for your hand.

“Ye dinnae need to be afraid.” He coos. The words are a moon above a tide, pulling and reaching, dragging the swell of the waves higher and higher, until they threaten to pull you under, overwhelm you and drown you.

“I…” I don’t understand? I thought you were gay? I don’t know what is happening here? Johnny grimaces, and you immediately forget about the conversation and leap into action, jumping to your feet. “What is it? Where’s your pain?” Your hands hover over his belly, and he points to where his liver currently sits, slowly leaking inside his body, spilling bile that could eventually kill him if it hadn’t been caught. You pull down the blanket, unsnapping his gown to push it aside, checking for anything physically observable, site swelling, a rash, anything. “Does this hurt?” You cautiously press down, tapping slightly, watching his face for a reaction.

“No.” he says, and when you reach over to his other side, turning to watch his facial expressions, he moves with you, barely leaning, chin pointed in your direction.

His face is suddenly incredibly close to your face. And he looks… so handsome. So pretty, with his bright blue eyes and perfect bones, soft lips that part with an inhale. He dazzles you. Distracts you.

This is your patient, get it together. You’re a professional, act like it. 

“Does that hurt?” You croak, and his lips quirk into a half smile, a warm palm gliding over the small of your back.

“It doesnae hurt, bun.” He winks.

“Oh my god, were you faking?” You try to stand up, but the pressure on your spine is firm, and he chuckles.

“Can I tell ye a secret?” He’s fully serious now, question whispered just above your ear, and you nod.

“Of course.”

“Ye’v been drivin’ me mad today, pretty girl. Walkin’ around here wit’ no panties on.” Oh. Oh… my god. You shoot upwards, hand covering your mouth in shock, and he laughs, raising an eyebrow before his gaze drifts over the curve of your hip.

“Johnny!” you hiss, scandalized, and then guilt hits you like a train, like two tons of rocks have been dropped on top of you. Simon. “Johnny, you… you and Simon, you’re-“

“We’re lucky ye’ve come into our lives.” He finishes, and you frown, confused. “We think ye’re really special.” We. We?

“What did I miss?” Simon says from the doorway, and you jerk, stepping back like Johnny’s bed is on fire and you’ve just been burnt, eyes wide and wild. You feel like a child, caught with a hand in the cookie jar, but Simon doesn’t look angry. Just curious.

“Jus’ talking.” Johnny replies, and he starts to lower his bed, watching you with heavy eyes.

“Well. I should get going. I’ve got a few trains to make.” You glance at the clock, and then give them both a polite smile. Simon crosses his arms.

“Looks like you tired him out.” He comments, and they glance at one another, some sort of communication happening silently before he shrugs. “Let me drive you.”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t. It’s not… you just got back, and I’m fine, really. It’s not that far, I-“

“If it’s not that far, let him drive ye.” Johnny pipes up, and Simon piles on easily. 

"He's not going to let this go, and neither am I. Let me get you home safely, please." You shouldn't. You really, really shouldn't. "It's the least we can do." Your shoulders slump in defeat. It’s just a ride. It’s not crossing a line.

“Okay, then.” Johnny smiles, and Simon moves to his side, brushing his mask covered mouth against his forehead.

“She go down okay?” Johnny murmurs, tenderly cupping his cheek. 

“Like a champ. Promised I’d bring her tomorrow morning. Think she understood me.”

“Aye. She’s smarter than ye, so probably.” He teases, and they share a lighthearted laugh before Johnny’s bidding you a goodbye, and Simon directs you out the door.

“Uh, right here is fine.” You point to the curb, and Simon slows the car to a stop, turning to face you with that ever-present scrutiny, brows shoved down above his eyes.

“A hotel?” You swallow.

“My um, my flat is being renovated. It’s a whole thing so I just figured I wo-would stay somewhere else.” You want to flee, run out of this car and away from him, but he holds you in place so easily with just his eyes, so you sit there, frozen, one hand on the door handle, the other splayed against your thigh.

“Is everything alright? Earlier-“

“I’m fine.” You rush out, cutting him off. It’s well practiced, the denial, the avoidance, these things that you normally excel out.

But nothing is normal with them. 

He cocks his head, and then nods, and you breathe a little easier, turning to push the door open.

“Wait.” A hand tugs at you, thick, warm fingers lightly touching your wrist, and you whip back around to face him, eyes wide. “If you ever need anything, Johnny and I… we’re here.” Why is your heart beating so fast? 

“Oh, I uh… I’m fine, I don’t need-“

“That doesn’t work on me. Johnny either, pretty girl.” He tells you, and it’s so firm, so strong backed, that your mouth goes dry, and you gape at him. What? What doesn’t work? Is he… is he saying he doesn’t buy it? Doesn’t believe you? He’s reading your mind, subtly raising an eyebrow, and then nodding. “Put my number in your phone.” He instructs, and like a robot, like a vampire’s Thrall, you pull it from your bag, swiping open the contact list and pressing each number in the order he gives it. “We’ll see you tomorrow?” He asks once you’re finished, and you mumble a shaky yes, finally pushing the door open, and climbing out.

“Alright, well. Good night.” You bend at the waist, giving him a wave through the window, and his jaw moves beneath the mask, shifting to the side, eyes squinting at the corners. He's smiling. 

“Good night, bunny.”

[loveanddeepspaceimagines]

Do you think you could do something with the boys and an asthmatic reader? Whether theyre extremely or mildly asthmatic? Been struggling a little bit as the weather changes so I'd love to see your take on it! Thank you!

When you have asthma attack

I'm so sorry that you are struggling, i hope you feel better soon! wish you well <3

I'm not very familiar on how Asthma works and how it feels to be asthmatic but i tried to put together something for you!

Rafayel did know you were asthmatic, he just never seen you having Asthma Attack ,so when he found you hunched over on the floor, wheezing and struggling to catch your breath. The sight of you in distress sent a wave of panic through him. He quickly ran to your room to find your inhaler running back to you and knelt next to you. "y/n take a deep breath. Here, use this," he said, pressing the inhaler to your lips.

You took a deep breath, the medicine easing its way into your lungs. Rafayel rubbed your back, trying to help you regain your breath. "It's okay, baby. Just breathe. I'm here," he reassured you.

As your breathing steadied, he helped you to sit up, pulling you in his arms. "Do you want to lay down?" he asked softly, concern on his face.

You nodded, and he scooped you up carrying you to the bedroom. He laid you down gently, covering you with a blanket. He sat on the edge of the bed, watching you, making sure your breathing stayed steady.

He reached for a glass of water, bringing it to your lips. "Drink this," murmured, helping you to sip.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked. You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Just you. Thank you for being here, Raf."

Radayel smiled back, his eyes soft. "Anytime, baby. You know I'm always here for you." He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "Get some rest, and I'll make sure you're feeling better in no time."

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During one of mission with Xavier, you found yourself struggling to breathe, your asthma flaring up unexpectedly. The adrenaline and the chaos around you only made it worse. "Xavier, I can't... I can't breathe," you gasped, your hand moving to your pocket to look for inhaler.

Without hesitation, Xavier pulled your inhaler from your pocket, his hands steady as he helped you to your feet. He guided your hands to position the inhaler correctly, preparing to help you breathe in deeply.

"Take it slow baby," he murmured, his voice shaky but gentle. You followed his lead, inhaling the medication as he held you steady. He wrapped his arm around your waist, supporting you as you took deep breaths.

As your breathing started to even out, he checked your condition, his eyes never leaving yours. "Better?" You nodded, still catching your breath. "Yeah, thanks baby. I'm sorry."

He shook his head, dismissing your apology. "Don't be sorry. I've got you, y/n. We've got this." His hand squeezed yours reassuringly.

He helped you to lean against a wall for support, his free hand still holding your inhaler. He checked on you periodically throughout the mission, ensuring your asthma didn't flare up again.

When the mission was over, and the two of you were safe, Xavier made sure to sit you down and check on you properly. "Are you okay, now? Do you need anything?"

You smiled gratefully at him, his care and protection never failing to send flutter to your heart. "I'm fine, really. Just... thanks for looking out for me."

He returned your smile, his eyes filled with love. "Of course, Y/n. You know I'd do anything for you."

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You two were in the middle of what started as little argument, but quickly escalated due to your poor communication. Your chest tightened, and you gasped for air. The last thing you needed was an asthma attack, especially in such a tense situation.

Sylus noticed your struggle and immediately dropped the argument he was having with you. He moved to your side, his hands cupping your face. "Y/n, you're having an attack. Try to calm down Sweetie" he said, his voice firm yet gentle.

He moved to grab your inhaler from the nearby shelf and handed it to you, his eyes never leaving yours. You took a few puffs, feeling the cold mist soothe your chest. He rubbed your back helping you to relax and focus on your breathing.

"It's okay I'm here" he said, his voice a soft murmur as you tried to regain control over your breathing. "You can let it all out now. I'm not going anywhere."

You took a few more puffs from your inhaler, finally feeling the tightness in your chest loosen. You leaned into Sylus as He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen," you whispered, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. He held you tighter kissing the top of your head.

"It's not your fault. We'll talk about this later okay? Right now you need to focus on getting better." His voice was calm and reassuring, making it easier for you to let go of the tension that had been building up between you two.

When you felt stable enough you looked up at him, a small smile forming on your lips. "Thank you" you whispered. He smiled back at you, his eyes filled with love, "Anything for you, Sweetie. "

⋆｡‧˚ʚ ɞ˚‧｡⋆

You were out on a date, enjoying a quiet dinner at a candlelit restaurant. Everything was peace and perfect ,however,season changes wasn't easy for you since you were asthmatic and you were having hard time,dealing with it.

So that's why when you were middle of admiring the view something triggered your asthma, causing your chest to tighten.

Panic flashed across your face, and you fumbled in your bag for your inhaler.

Zayne knew you were asthmatic so he was always ready ,carrying medicine just in case. So when he noticed your distress he quickly took over, pulling out the inhaler from his coat pocket and helped you use it, steadying you as you took deep breaths.

"It's okay, baby, just try to take deep breathes," he said, his voice calm and reassuring. You leaned against him, grateful for his quick reaction. Zayne held you close, waiting for you to stabilize.

Once you felt a bit better, he guided you out of the restaurant, you walked at a slow pace, giving you time to catch your breath. "Do you need to go home?" he asked, his hand gently rubbing your back.

You shook head, "No, I think I'm okay now. I just need a moment." He nodded walking you to a nearby park, finding a quiet corner with a bench. You two sat down, and he held your hand, watching as you took slow, deep breaths. "We can just sit here for a bit, then we can head home if you want," he murmured softly

You smiled, leaning head on his shoulder. "Let's just stay here, I feel safe with you." Zayne wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer. You sat in silence, the soothing sound of the night filling the air.

©loveanddeepspaceimagines 2024

[hearts4chriss]

𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝.

𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐄'𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑

Brothers bestfriend! Chris + needy! Nate’s lil sis

prompt: Nate ( ur older brother ) wants to go out for a bit with some of his other friends and he doesn’t trust you enough to stay home by urself without mom and dad since they won’t be there either. So he asks one of his best friend Chris to stay over and watch you, Matt and nick know ur crush on Chris so they pretend they can’t come.

Part 01

contains: masturbation ( no actual sex ), use of y/n ( sorry I have to ) dirty fantasies ( pet names, rough! Chris, dirty talk, degrading, forced head etc just beyond FILTHLY imagination ), use of vibrator on reader, caught by Chris, FORESHADOWING, fantasy will be like this

Nate are you serious I’m not 12! I whine when said he was gonna find a baby sitter for me knowing how much it pisses me off

I’m Nate doe’s little sister I’m 18, we’ve Been close to his bestfriends the sturniolo triplets. So obviously him being my brother naturally I got to know them.

Nick

I clicked with him superrr fast, I love his energy and when I found out he was gay that just made it all the better because I’ve always wanted a gay bestfriend, and we always have sleepovers :)

Matt

Matt’s absolutely adorable I love him he always helps me calm down whenever I’m about to or am having a panic attack, I remember one time during a test I forgot everything and almost had one and he slid me the answers. Love that kid

now there’s a reason I saved Chris for last,

Chris

chris and I know each other just as well if not even more then I do his other two brothers, we haven’t done anything unfortunately. I’ve had a crush on him since middle school.

First I just wanted to kiss him and hold his hand.

Then go to his house and do some more.

Then now, as an 18 year old I wanted him to fuck my Brains out.

I’m around him all the time since we all live in LA and always hanging out, I always see him shirtless and fucking hell it turns me on, I always get lucky since nick and matt found of my attraction to his brother they always snap me or text me pictures of him.

What sucks is I cant have him. It would take my life 1000 times over for me to be able to fuck chris sturniolo, and it sucks because my brother nate does not play that shit.

He strictly said "your not allowed to date any of them" obviously referring to matt and Chris.

Which also doesn't help because my wants and desires a hormonal teenage-adult girl only grow more whenever he comes around, chris is always there.

Now today, nate had to run some errands and nick matt and chris used to watch me when I was younger if my parents couldn't

Buttt, nick and matt "could not come due to personal issues" so. Your guess is right, im gonna be alone with chris for hours.

That thought alone made me soak in my p-

“Y/n! are you listening to me kid?” My older brother chuckles leaning against my doorway of my room as im on my bed watching "The Vampire Diaries".

“Huh? oh yeah im listening matt and nick cant come so chris is because im fucking 11.” I roll my eyes hiding my excitement from him watching me.

“Don't think of any weird shit alright? He's just watching you so don't-“

“Ugh is he here yet? You're annoying me already.” I groan shifting in my sheets and taking a sip from my celsius hearin our door open, they have a key.

“Welp thats chris.” Nate says tilting his head for me to get up.

I get up from the sheets wearing some pink sleep shorts and a white t-shirt and he raises an eyebrow.

“Your wearing THAT? around chris?” Nate chuckles and I flip him off.

“Hey! I heard that!.” Chris yells coming up the stairs sounding offended.

He's now at the top of the steps. oh my fuck he looks so good.

Its around 6ish in LA right now and hes wearing a black tank top and grey fresh love sweats, slight stubble and his hair was a bit messy which I always liked and my eyes immediately drifted to his natural bulge in his pants as him and Nate were talking.

“Just make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble.” Nate puts his arm around me giving me a hug and Chris chuckles.

“Don’t worry bro she’s safe with me.” He says before dapping him up as Nate leaves the house. yeah safer if you were balls deep inside

Oh god Chris sh-shit so-d-deep inside me

Yeah? You feel me deep inside you baby?

bro she’s like zoning out today. Nate chuckled and I snap out of it

Whatever no I wasn’t! Just go!

Soon after it was just me and Chris so we made our way down to the living room

“Where are ur other two clones?” I chuckle getting situated on the couch before turning on a movie saltburn

“they have “personal issues”.” He said rolling his eyes causing a small laugh to fall from my lips.

“So it’s just you and me little one.” A smirk curving on his lips, just enough for my panties to be soaked.

Shut up Chris I’m 18.I mutter trying to watch the movie in peace and he chuckles

the movie went on and it was now, the bathtub scene where jacob elordi ( Felix ) is jerking off.

I peer over to Chris whose eyes are clearly fixated on the screen as my squeeze my thighs together under the blanket feeling all my hormonal thoughts leaking through my panties.

This had nothing to do with the movie, it’s the thought for Chris doing that to himself that had turned me on most. The tension so thick a knife couldn’t even cut through.

“Uhm I-i gotta go to the bathroom”. I nearly choke and I fix my shorts placing the blanket down where I was sitting.

“Don’t take to long I’ll miss you.” He chuckles and that didn’t help.

I go to my room and close the door squeezing my eyes shut.

I had maybe 5 minutes to relieve myself.

I quickly reach into my drawer grabbing my vibrating dildo and the remote for it.

I pull down my shorts and panties and spread my legs letting the tip of the toy get coated in my wetness and I bite my lip slightly feeling the thickness of it.

I turned it on letting out a soft moan slowly inserting it, wishing this was Chris’s dick instead.

I began thrusting the toy in and out of my pussy letting the squelching sounds of arousal grow letting it drip down curling my toes throwing my head on the pillows allowing my mind to drift

I was in Chris’s/my room my head smushed in the pillows as his cock rammed inside me whilst I was on my stomach. His hips slamming against my ass and his hand wrapped around my lower stomach as I cried out his name

Fuck fuckk so d-deep- I whimper into the pillows as he was bringing me to my 4th orgasm, we had switched numerous positions and my legs were quivering in front of him as he laid a hard snack to my ass chucking behind me.

such a fucking slut letting me fuck you like this, imagine if ur brother found out his little sister was getting her pussy pounded by his bestfriend. He laid another harsh smack to my ass and I jolted forward.

stretched this pussy out so good- he groans rubbing my clit to chase both our orgasms.

ngh- o-oh shit- fuck- I gripped the sheets tightly curses of Chris’s name flew out my mouth feeling my eyes water from the angle of his hips thrusting allowing his thick cock to hit every single spot inside me

come on sweetheart cum for me, you have another one in you yeah? He grunted lowly in my ear kissing me sloppily as a string of Saliva parts from our lips each time we kiss moaning into each others mouths.

“Oh fuck Chris I-“ I curl my toes and yell loudly as I’m about to release on the toy before I look up and see Chris. Was. Watching me.

“Were you playing with yourself?” Chris leans on the doorway of my room his eyes darting to between ny legs as I was thrusting the toy in and out of me and I quickly covered up my cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“Uhm…maybe. Sorry I-I’ll be down in a second-“

Maybe I can help. Chris says closing the door to my room approaching my bed

@mattsleftnipple03 @bernardsleftbootycheek @sturniolopowers @gdsvhtwa @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @worldlxvlys @chrisslut25 @princessbetsy123-blog @mattslolita @guccifrog @blahbel668 @mattsneezing @trickywritters @hearts4chris

@nonamegirlxsturniolo @luvmxtt @theyluv-meee @mattsnymphette @hoesformatt @luv4kozume @kikisturnioloo @pepsiimaxx @babyddolly @iiheartstef @junnniiieee07 @ast3ro1dzz @sturniolowhore @st7rnioioss @emma4eva @braindead4l @ihearttsyouu @blondiesjailer @kqyslyho3 @sturnsfav @sunsetsturniolos @sturniololoverr @stqrnstars @dlyansworld @soimightlikeoldmen69 @abbie13sworld @lacysturniolo @sturniol0s @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lilies @luhsexcbihh @nicksmainbitch

[sunnys-out]

Alexia, mi reinita, mi amor, mi todo | Alexia Putellas x Reader

A/N: Not me wanting to get this out still on Alexia's birthday like I'm turning an essay in at midnight. Ok honestly I would write a part two of this but that's only if people are interested. Again requests are closed for now.

So it's a little angsty, has a little hurt/comfort (I know this woman gives the best hugs let's be real), and some Alexia fluff.

Based on this prompt list: #4, #20

Warnings: Anxiety/panic attack symptoms

WC: 1860

Alexia had resolved it in herself that she would use whatever leverage she had to have you stay at Barcelona. She was not the type to use that card…she was not that kind of player…the type to threaten to leave to get what she wanted, but the thing she wanted was you. She had tried to speak with some of the staff about it but they were “conveniently busy”. With no success, she texts you “Voy a casa, te veo pronto, amor” (I’m going home, I’ll see you soon, love)  before driving over to your shared home.

Barcelona was dragging their feet with regards to your contract of whether you would be renewed or be traded to some other club, some other league, some other country. You had spent 4 years dedicated to Barcelona and had earned your spot in the midfield. The statistics you pulled throughout your career there were phenomenal, the kind that made your girlfriend proud to see because she was there from the beginning. So why was Barcelona playing a cat and mouse game with your livelihood?

______________________________________________________________

“Alexia, mi Reinita, mi amor, mi todo (my little queen, my love, my everything),

You know that I am better with my words written on paper than spoken to you. You still make me nervous when I look at you; I still blush as quickly as I did when we first met. I write this to you because I’m going to America to Bay FC…the deal has been done and the announcements will be out in a couple of weeks, but I wanted you to be the first to know. 

______________________________________________________________

The amount of times that Alexia had found you at that kitchen table with your head covered by your arms crying out your frustrations at another deal that went nowhere. She would never say a word and just quietly wrapped her arms around you and kissed the back of your head before laying hers on it. Once the crying stopped her hand would gently rub your back until eventually you began to move and pulled her into a hug with your head at her abdomen with a quick whisper of “let’s go to sleep”. Her only words would be “of course, cariño (dear)”.

______________________________________________________________

I know how you are mi amor (my love) but fighting the club is not worth it. It is hard to swallow the reality that the club that I grew up watching, grew up to play in, does not carry the same love and dedication I had for them…for me. You were one of the first people I met 4 years ago when I transferred from my club team in Mexico. It was a big move and you were there to just welcome me in, you knew immediately that I did not take change very well and was uncomfortable with everything. 

______________________________________________________________

Alexia, at some point, blocked some sports news outlets on your social media because of how overwhelming the “(y/n) Transfer Rumor” posts were getting for you. You did not want to leave Barcelona, you had made a home there with Alexia and the thought of leaving all of what you had terrified you. 

You could already hear the comments from the “fans” questioning your loyalty, why you couldn’t just confirm that you would be staying at Barça or leaving the team all together, why you were silent on the rumors? Alexia would be there with her head on your shoulder quietly holding you in the kitchen quieting the noises in your head with a simple kiss to the temple.

“Mi princesa, go sit down.. I’ll make dinner” she’d whisper into your hair as she led you to the table and made dinner while you watched with warmth at the woman before you. 

______________________________________________________________

I remember you would tease me about my accent when I spoke Spanish and said you would give me lessons if I made you a bag after you saw me crocheting mine on the bus to my first away game. I know that the Spanish lessons were just a way to spend time with me. You could have asked me to be with you at any point and I would have said yes. I remember you teaching me how to dance in our kitchen one night after saying that I was worried about making a fool out of myself at my brother’s wedding. I’m going to miss our 3 am dances we would do when I was pacing the kitchen stressed out of my mind on this transfer.

As you said, “Here I don’t want you to walk back and forth alone, just dance with me instead…I'm here”. I still remember the feeling of you under my palms; every curve, every line as I would take the lead of the dance and you would look at me calmly guiding my hands like how you did when you first taught me…yeah I’ll miss those quiet moments the most. 

______________________________________________________________

You had not gone to practice that morning due to stomach issues and you had to basically push Alexia out of the door so that she went to practice. 

“I’ll get some rest do not worry, mi Reinita” You say as she answers with a quick kiss.

She grabs her bags and gives another kiss pulling you in,“I’ll be home as soon as I'm done ok?”.

Alexia entered through the doorway of the shared home and saw several moving boxes littered on the floor. Confused, she looks for you as there is not the usual soft music that you play when you are doing chores and finds you wrapped in a blanket sound asleep on the couch.

Her bag is gently put to the ground as she rounds the corner of the couch. She sees the coffee table littered with papers and your phone with an unread message from her.

She quietly looms over the papers, seeing a copy of your original Barcelona contract, the proposal, the rejection to the proposal, another club offer and, finally, the letter to confirm intention to transfer. Your phone lights up with another notification; getting the attention of Alexia who notices the handwritten letter that remained unfinished under your phone. 

You were a semi - heavy sleeper so she picked up the letter and began to read as her soft smile appeared, fell and then reappeared.  The boxes made sense now, you were organizing your things ahead of time to leave. Seems that you received the news that morning, explaining why the staff were busy when Alexia tried her best to speak with them.

She looked down at your handwriting again…she’s so familiar with it as you have always littered her spaces with sticky notes of encouragement, love and everything in between. You always thought she had thrown them away but on your 2nd year anniversary she showed you the box where she had kept every single note that you had written to her. 

It didn’t matter to her; she kept all the ones that said “Hi Ale, can you get some milk?”, “Reinita, there is dinner in the fridge”, “I’m too lazy, I ordered pizza oh and I guess Patri is coming over?’ 

This letter no matter how long she will keep especially close to her.

Alexia sat at the other end of the couch and began to read the last bit of the letter.

______________________________________________________________

I know that I will be so far from you and that you will miss the things that I do. You were always a romantic like that mi amor (my love). That’s why I am going to leave you my favorite book, the one that I always read way too many times and have cried over just as much. The only thing that I ask is that you don’t open it until I am gone and you are missing me. Just saying not to is going to make you want to open the book even more but please listen to me on this one. :)

I don’t know what the fixtures of the NWSL are yet but I know that you will want to -

______________________________________________________________

You stir and stretch out your legs pushing Alexia in the process. The resistance pulled you from your sleep.

Alexia laughs softly as she pats your leg, “Sleep well, cariño (dear)?” 

You only nod as you rub the sleep from your eyes. Without a word, you sit up and look at Alexia who fiddles with the note that you had written. 

“I wish I was at least awake when you found out, amor (love)” you start as you shift over to be closer to her.

“Are you mad at me?” your head now lying on her shoulder.

Alexia looks, almost, offended at the comment as she turns to you.

“This is your decision, cariño, you know that I will support in whatever you do and wherever you go…I’m sad, yes, but seeing you living out your dreams has been a honor for me…so no I’m not mad solamente bien orgullosa de ti (only very proud of you)”.

She pulls you closer, her hand softly rubbing your arm as she hears the small sniffles coming from you.

“Promise me you’ll watch at least one game” you say softly.

Alexia laughs and kisses the top of your head, “Amor, I’ll watch every one”.

______________________________________________________________

The announcement came and went and so did you. You found yourself preparing for the inaugural season for Bay FC. The fans had taken a liking to you immediately and the management welcomed you with open arms. 

Alexia, remained in your shared home that now was quieter without your presence. The spaces that normally were filled with little posts were bare, the days for chores weren’t filled with your questionable music, and Alexia no longer needed to dance in the kitchen at 3 am.

After a particularly hard practice, Alexia returned home missing you more than usual. As she plopped down on the couch her eyes fell on your book that you left behind for her.

She remembered that you had asked her to not open it until you were gone to your new club.

Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flagg, it was the book that you read every year during the summer without fail. No matter how many times you read it, Alexia would see you tear up and close the book to compose yourself before continuing. 

She got the book and opened to the first page and seeing a small, sticky note,

“I miss you, mi reinita”.

Alexia flipped the page and found another one,

“You can text my mom for her soup recipe, she’d only give it to you”

A laugh escapes her as she continues through the book finding more and more of your notes that you had written out. She skips to the end and finds an older looking note.

“I love you, Alexia Putellas…” with the date of your 1st anniversary with Alexia.

And below with newer ink and dated the day that you had left.

“And I… I still love you, even after all of this time”.

[heavenlyvision]

More than friends

Word Count: 21.9k

Pairing: Johnny Cage x F!Reader

Read part one ˗ˏˋhereˎˊ˗

A/N: Okie dokie ! It is finished,,, I hope you all enjoy it and that it lives up to your expectations. I apologise for it taking so long ! I've been struggling with motivation to write lately but I am pretty proud of this big one and thank you for being so patient !!! <33

Summary: Temporarily living with Johnny has it's challenges, especially since he still isn't being upfront about his feelings or your relationship.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks, mentions of stalking (ex), alcohol consumption, minor harrassment (ex), mental instablity (ex), minor mentions of violence, arguments, mean!Johnny, possessive/jealous!Johnny, reader has a nightmare, masturbation, thigh riding, biting, cunnilingus, grinding, creampie (?), minor dacryphilia, vaginal fingering, minor overstimulation, no use of y/n

MDNI

The past few days with Johnny have been good, you have mostly been watching movies and playing board games. He offered you a deal – for every movie you watch, you have to watch one of his after. A fine deal by any means… if you hadn’t already seen them. Being friends with Johnny means watching all of his movies at least once but it seems like staying here has given him the opportunity to make you watch them all again.

If he hadn’t been so kind and you weren’t so worried about being ungrateful or overstaying your welcome, you would complain and kick up more of a fuss but all in all, you don’t really mind. It’s not like his movies are bad… okay, some of them are definitely not good but he’s still in them so you don’t really mind. He’s a good actor and a good-looking man so it makes sitting through the lesser of his films bearable, that and he’s always so happy when you watch them together, how could you turn him down.

You needed a break from his movies though, which has resulted in a game of trivial pursuit and while you can’t prove it… you think he’s cheating, “This isn’t fun when it’s only two people playing,” you complain.

He’s leaning back on his palms and smiling cockily at you, you’re both sat facing each other with his coffee table in between, the game sat atop and looking at it, you can see just how far behind you are.

“You’re only saying that because you’re losing,” he snickers back at you.

You scowl at him, “Who knows things like…” you pick up another card and read it out, “When the first movie trailer was shown?”

He lightly rolls his eyes, “1913 and plenty of people would know that!”

“No! People don’t just know that?” You’re exasperated with him; he has to know that’s not common knowledge and it’s odd that he knows that off the top of his head.

He shrugs at you, smug smile on his face, “I guess I’m just that good.”

You squint at him, annoyed that he is apparently a trivia god, “Or just that odd.”

“I may be odd but you’re the one dying to get fucked by me,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You groan at him and feel yourself grow hot in the face, “Whatever, just pick a new card.” You flick the card you’re holding at him and he laughs as it falls flat before hitting him.

He’s incredibly happy with himself, now using your desire for him as some kind of punchline. He’s not touched you again, not since the incident on the couch. It’s not like you’ve not made your move either, you’ve tried enticing him and every time he looks so close to folding before he gathers himself and moves forward. For a man who flirts relentlessly with you, he sure does have a lot of self-control.

Your phone buzzes on the table and you pick it up to look, face immediately twisting into an expression of displeasure.

“You good?” Johnny asks.

Placing your phone down, you look to him and answer, “Mhm, yeah… it’s just work.”

He raises a brow at you, “Again?”

You hum at him because yes, again.

Work has been messaging you fairly frequently to see if you’ve gotten ‘better’, you haven’t gone back yet, you used a few of your sick days so you could get some time off after the traumatic event of your ex breaking into and trashing your apartment but management seems to be getting pissy with you, so you will have to go back soon.

Something that had surprised you was Johnny also taking a few days off work to stay with you, you think he’s apprehensive about leaving you alone, which you can’t blame him… you don’t really want to be alone. You haven’t told him that though, you would never ask him to put you above his work.

Johnny sits up, no longer leaning on his hands, “What did they say?”

“They’re just asking how I feel… if I’m better,” you hesitate slightly, “I think I’ll go back tomorrow.”

“I don’t think you should.” He replies quickly.

This is not the first time he’s shown upset at the prospect of you going back to work, “I have to, I still have to pay for my apartment you know.”

He looks at you sincerely, “You know I would pay for anything you need me to.”

“And you know that I’m not comfortable with that,” you retort.

He’s offered to cover the cost of everything for you multiple times now and every time he brings it up, you shoot him down.

“I just don’t love the idea of you going back there, not with your ex still…” his face turns up in disgust, “Existing.”

You chuckle slightly, “It should be fine.”

You say that but you are worried about possibly running into him too, you don’t know if he’s still lingering around your neighbourhood or not. Which, speaking of your apartment, you’re waiting to hear back from your landlord on whether or not the door has been fixed.You’re also dreading having to go back though, you’ve been putting it off for days now. You were supposed to go back for pyjamas but instead Johnny has been letting you live in his shirts.

“Just take tomorrow off, one more day,” he gives you puppy dog eyes. When you don’t immediately reply, he adds, batting his eyelashes at you, “For me?”

Your lips downturn at his stupidity, “Ugh fine, just stop looking at me like that.”

He smiles brightly at you, “Cool! We can watch more of my movies tomorrow.”

You shoot back, “Don’t you have a job?”

“Making you watch all my movies is part of my job,” he jokes.

You whinge out at him, “But I’ve already seen them all~.”

“And now you’re watching them all again~,” he mocks you, smile big and with how proud of himself he is, the weight of his pride might crush you.

“You’re lucky I think you’re cute,” you grumble.

He chuckles at you, “Is that the only reason you’re watching all my movies? Because you want to sleep with me?”

“I’m not going to say you’re completely wrong,” you tease.

He places a hand over his heart, “Do you like any of my movies?”

“Your movies, or movies you’ve starred in?” You clarify.

He’s examining you carefully, “Both.”

You don’t have to think about it, “I like your movies,” you admit, “But you have starred in some questionable ones.”

He points a finger gun at you, “Touché.”

“Are we done playing yet?” You lament, referencing the almost forgotten game of trivial pursuit.

“Are you done pretending you still have a chance at winning?” He counters.

“Never.”

He rolls his eyes playfully at your stubbornness, “What if I said I’d fuck you right now if you’d admit you’ve lost.”

Your heart stutters in your chest and if you felt like he was being serious, you would fold and tell him he’s the all-time winner of trivial pursuit but you know him and you know he’s only teasing, “I’d tell you that you’re being mean and that I’d also sooner die before admitting premature defeat.”

“That’s a real shame,” he hums.

You’re getting annoyed with him; he keeps doing this to you. Relentlessly teasing you with no follow through, not even so much as a kiss. You get up on your knees and shuffle over to him, you end up right in his lap, his hands move to your hips instinctually.

He smirks at you, “And what are you trying to accomplish right now, doll?”

“You’ve been really mean, Johnny,” you pout at him.

“How can I fix it?” he asks.

You feel timid, shy, “You can stop pretending like the other night never happened.”

He’s serious as he answers, “I’m not pretending anything; I know it happened.”

“You’ve not even…” You trail off, now worried that you read into things too much and that you’re still just friends.

“Sugar, I’ve not stopped thinking about it,” he confesses.

You hesitate but probe, “So, you still want me?”

He almost has an air of confusion about him, baffled by your doubt, “Never stopped.”

“Then why haven’t you even kissed me again?” Your brows upturn at him.

His hand moves to hold your face, his thumb stroking high on your cheekbone, “Worried I’m not gonna be able to control myself.”

You lean into his hand slightly, “Don’t want you to.”

He groans, “See, you saying stuff like that doesn’t help,”

“Can I have one kiss?” you mimic the way he bat his eyelashes at you earlier, tacking on, “Please?”

He groans at you, pained, “How could I possibly say no?”

His hand on the the side of your face tilts your head and his lips brush over yours, the small contact electrifying to you. It feels like it’s been so long since he’s kissed you and being this close to him is making you dizzy. He teases you with his proximity, holding you close but never actually kissing you. Just as you’re about to huff out in annoyance at him, he pushes his lips to yours.

The kiss is hot, his mouth insistent and full, your shock gives him the chance to stick his tongue inside your mouth, licking at you. You moan into him, your body relaxing completely, incredibly content to be placated by his lips. His hand on your hip holds you tight, his fingers digging in, attempting to ground himself.

His own moans are muffled by the kiss, you’re affecting him just as much as he thought you would. He begrudgingly pulls away from you, knowing if he keeps kissing you, he’ll lose his mind and end up making you cum for him in anyway he can think of. You whinge as he pulls back and he can’t help the incredibly smug expression on his face at the sound, forever feeling self-pleased by how needy you are for him.

He purrs at you, “Happy?”

“You could make me happier,” you retort.

He only chuckles at you in response before asking, “You gonna admit to losing trivial pursuit?”

You frown at him, “Absolutely not!”

“Then sit your ass back over on your side of the coffee table and answer your question like a good girl,” his tone is a teasing kind of firmness.

You plant a single full kiss on his lips before crawling back over to your side, Johnny’s eyes stay glued to your ass as you shuffle across the carpet. His mind immediately filling with images of his cock pile driving into you while your back is arched for him. This was supposed to be a wholesome game and now he’s thinking of fucking you into the carpet while making you answer trivia questions.

You grumble at him, “You’re so mean to me.”

“I’d feel worse about it if you didn’t seem to enjoy it so much,” he’s incredibly glib right now, completely correct about his effect on you.

“You’re wrong,” you try denying.

“Really?” he raises a brow to you, “Because I seem to remember your pretty little pussy gripping my fingers awfully tight when I was ‘mean’ to you.”

Your face heats up again, “Just pick out a card,” you mumble.

His grin is Cheshire like, “Whatever you want, sugar.” He picks up a new card, “What is the literary term for a word that describes a sound?”

You know this one and you smile brightly, “Onomatopoeia!” you point at him excitedly.

He laughs at your excitement, “You got it.”

You have a small celebratory moment to yourself before you pull out a new card, “If you know this one I’m gonna scream.”

He’s confident in his trivia abilities, “Get ready to yell, doll.”

You read from the card, “What is the year of the first recorded flight?”

“1903,” he smiles cockily, completely sure that he’s right.

And he is, you glare at him and grumble out, “You’re correct.”

“I know,” his tone is self-satisfied.

You don’t win trivial pursuit but you do take pride in not giving up, you may not be good at trivia but you’re proud of yourself for seeing it through. Some may call it stubbornness but you think it shows strength to sit there and try like hell to win even when defeat is right in front of you. You gave it your best shot and you had fun. You will get better at trivia though… he won’t be winning next time. Not that you’re competitive or anything.

✰ ✰ ✰

In the morning you’re woken up by your phone buzzing by your head, sleepily you squint at your screen and see that it’s work trying to call you again. You grumble annoyed at how persistent they are but relent and answer.

“Are you feeling better yet?” Your managers voice is sharp and his question is straight to the point. You’re a bit taken aback by how direct and grumpy he is, you don’t even get to say anything before he continues, “Listen, we’ve been swamped here, unless you’re actively dying, it would be best if you came in. Best for you I mean.”

You don’t miss his threat, your job is now on the line if you don’t go in but with how he’s being such a dick you try to negotiate, “I can come in tomorrow.”

“Today would be best,” he sighs, you don’t answer him and he grunts at you, “Fine, come in tomorrow, if you’re not in tomorrow, you’re getting cut from the roster.”

“Alright, see you–” he didn’t even let you finish your goodbye; he’s already hung up on you. Bastard.

You stare up at the ceiling, your mood for the day already completely ruined, you feel badly because you know you’re lying to work and they do need help but you’re also having a hard time bringing yourself to leave Johnny’s apartment, let alone go back to your neighbourhood. The thought of him being there sends a cold spike of anxiety through you, he did all that to your home, what is he planning to do to you? It’s a frightening thought.

You lay motionless on your mattress for a while, too anxious to go back to sleep but also too tired to get up. Clattering can be heard in the kitchen though and you’re concerned as to what Johnny is attempting to do so you haul yourself up, out of the bed and into his kitchen.

When you make your way into the main area you can see Johnny making pancakes… you think? Mostly, it just looks like he’s making a mess, “What are you doing?”

“Shit–” He jumps at the sound of your voice, dropping the spatula he was holding onto the ground, “I wasn’t expecting you to be awake so early,” he mumbles out as he bends down to retrieve it.

Your tone is amused as you ask again, “What are you doing?”

“Making breakfast,” he sighs.

You walk over to him and see he’s made a complete mess of the kitchen; he’s used far too many bowls for what he’s made. He also seems to have made up some pancake mix two separate times before using the one he is holding now.

You come up beside him and look over what he’s doing, “Why did you make so much mix?”

“The other ones had a weird texture,” he’s focusing hard on tipping some of the mix into the pan.

You want to comment on how he could be doing things better but you’re so appreciative of his efforts and you don’t want to sound like a know it all. But you can’t help but cringe as the bowl slips a bit and gets all over his hand.

He groans out, “I dunno how you did this so effortlessly, I’m killing myself here, doll.” You’re distracted by how he lifts his hand to his mouth and licks some of the batter off, he notices and smiles at you knowingly, moving his hand in front of your face he asks, “Want a taste, sugar?”

Wordlessly, your wrap your lips around his index finger, sucking it clean. Johnny groans at the sight of it, not expecting you to be so willing, he was only joking around but now you’re gently suckling on his finger and he’s about to pass out over it.

You pull back slowly and kiss the tip of his finger when you’re done cleaning it. He’s looking at you like you’ve hung the moon and stars in the sky and you can only huff out an amused laugh at him.

“Move over,” you shoo him away, “I will make the pancakes, you can start cleaning up,” you reach out for the mixing bowl he was holding.

He hands it to you reluctantly, “I was trying to make breakfast for you.”

“And I appreciate it so much but you’re going to make a mess of yourself if you continue,” you place the bowl off to the side and flip the pancake that was still in the pan, it’s too thick and also a little extra crispy thanks to the both of you getting distracted.

He comes up behind you, his arms trapping you against the bench, he leans in over your shoulder, “Would you clean me up if I did?” His words are suggestive, far from innocent.

You turn it back on him, “Would you let me?”

His head drops to your shoulder, resting there, “I want to, doll. Bad.”

“You’re the only one stopping it,” you hum out, focusing on the task at hand, trying to ignore how close he is to you.

He stays close to you as you make the pancakes, his hands move from the bench to your hips, his hands hold onto you, lightly pawing at you, “Why are you up so early anyways? I thought I had more time.”

“Work called me again, woke me up,” you mutter, already knowing Johnny’s going to be pissed that they’ve rung you again.

“Was it that asshole again?” He asks, referencing your manager.

You flip a pancake over in the pan, “Yeah, they’re short staffed and need my help.”

Johnny’s arms wrap around you more, holding you to him as his head turns into your neck, “I hope you said no.”

“I did but I feel bad, I have to go in tomorrow,” you tell him.

“You do not, not if you aren’t ready to be back there,” his arms squeeze you just the tiniest bit tighter, comforting you. He knows how frightened you are to go back to that neighbourhood.

One of your hands reaches down and holds his hand for a moment, “I appreciate the sentiment but I do have to go back, he threatened my job.”

“He what?” Johnny bristles behind you, moving to stand tall, turning you around to face him, “What the hell did he say?”

“It’s nothing that bad, he just said it would be ‘best’ for me if I came in tomorrow,” you wince slightly as you repeat your managers message.

Johnny’s scowl deepens, severely pissed off with your manager, “He’s such a dick, I don’t like him.”

“Not many people do but I can also understand his frustrations at the moment, plus… I’m not even sick, so…” You feel sheepish and you turn away from him, pouring the last of the batter into the pan.

Johnny scoffs from behind you, “So what? As far as he’s concerned you are sick and it’s not like you’re taking the time off for kicks. After what you’ve been through, you deserve some time off.”

He’s making you feel emotional, you don’t like thinking about what happened too hard, it’s still too fresh. You purse your lips and focus on the pancake sizzling in the pan instead of the slight burn in your eyes from holding back tears.

He places his hand on your shoulder, “You deserve to go to work without fear.”

Now why did he go and say that? You can’t help but cry silently as you flip the pancake, you’re trying so hard to hide it, blinking away your tears as soon as they form. Johnny knows though, he knows he touched a sore spot for you but he was genuinely only trying to help.

“Oh doll,” he sighs out at you, pulling you into his arms. You turn into him and cling on, needing the comfort right now. He lets you cry into his shirt for a moment, your tears no doubt soaking into the fabric. His hands rub up and down your back, trying to soothe you.

You remember the pancake though and sniffle into his shirt, “The pancake is going to burn.”

He takes the spatula from you and flips it onto the plate, “All better,” he places the utensil back down and moves his other hand back to you, “You worry about the silliest of things.”

You laugh dryly into him, “So do you.” He holds you in his kitchen for a bit as you will yourself to stop crying, you’re worried about the pancakes getting cold, “Hot pancakes are better than cold ones.”

His hands stop moving on your back and his head tilts down to you, “Is that your way of telling me you want to eat the pancakes now?”

“I am worried about them getting cold,” your face is still pressed into his shirt, your words slightly mumbled.

He shrugs at you, “I’m not.”

You make a face that he can’t see, it’s one of displeasure, “You should be… cold pancakes are bad.”

He dismisses, “They aren’t that bad.”

You’re still teary eyed but you pull back and look at him with as serious an expression as you can muster, “Cage… don’t eat cold pancakes.”

He smiles at you, happy to see your face again. His hand cups the side of your face, “There she is, my pretty doll.”

His words make your skin grow hot and you look away, he’s smiling big though, always happy to embarrass you.

You look at the pancakes on the bench, “Let’s just eat, yeah?”

“Whatever you want, sugar,” he pulls his hand away but not before booping the tip of your nose gently.

You sigh at him but move around the kitchen getting ready to plate out breakfast, Johnny comes up to your side and stops you, “Go sit down, I’ll plate it up.”

“But–”

“Don’t ‘but’ me, you ended up making them all so go sit down,” he points over to the breakfast bar.

You want to argue with him, about how you didn’t put nearly as much effort into making them as he did. How he did the most annoying part but based on the look on his face, you wouldn’t be able to convince him to let you plate it up anyways. So, you sulk away and around the bench, perching yourself atop the stool and wait for him to give you your pancakes.

As you watch him move around the kitchen something occurs to you, “Did you tell me the wrong cabinet when I was first here just so you could see my ass?”

He stands to face you, his smile sly but his tone faux offended, “I would never do that, how dare you.”

You roll your eyes at him and his response, “You would do that.”

“Can you blame me? You’ve got one hell of an ass, sugar,” he places your plate down in front you, wiggling his eyebrows as he does.

You try to be offended but you end up feeling complimented, “Thank you,” he smiles deviously at you and you squint back at him, “for the pancakes, not your gross compliment.”

“Ah, but you took it as a compliment,” he throws a wink your way, his demeanour pleased.

You roll your eyes at him and eat your pancakes, they aren’t bad. He did an alright job with the batter… third times the charm, it was just the actual cooking part he seemed to have the most issues with. Well… that and the mess he made.

You realise he spent his time clinging to you instead of cleaning like he was supposed to, “You didn’t clean…”

“I got distracted,” he mumbles, mouth full.

Not looking at him, you reply, “You do that a lot.”

“Stop living here and it won’t be a problem anymore,” he nudges your arm with his elbow.

“Alright,” you agree easily, you’re only staying for as long as you’re welcome.

Johnny doesn’t flinch, “No.”

You turn to look at him, questioning look on your face, “No?”

He still doesn’t look to you, mindlessly eating his breakfast as he explains, “Yeah, no. Keep staying here, I don’t mind being distracted.” He turns to you and smiles, “I like it, actually.”

His smile and words fluster you; you’re still concerned about overstaying your welcome though. Turning back to your food you mutter, “If you get sick of me and need me to leave, tell me, I’ll go.”

“You are always welcome in my home, not gonna ask you to leave, doll,” he picks up his plate and walks into the kitchen, stopping behind you to press a kiss to the crown of your head, “Not now or in the future, stay as long as you like…” he puts his plate in the sink, “…hell, stay forever.”

“I’m not staying forever,” you giggle, taking it as a joke.

He smiles fondly at you, “Do whatever you like, you’re always welcome here.”

✰ ✰ ✰

Waking up is hard, especially since you know you have a shift later, one you are none too keen to do. Images of your ex grabbing at you, of you punching him, the feeling of the impact, it’s all still so fresh in your mind and the idea of maybe running into him, or worse, him waiting for you, is horrifying. You might have to look for a new job but you like where you are, you like your co-workers. It’s also convenient, within walking distance from your apartment but now think that may not be such a bonus anymore, especially if you decide to move.

You’ve been considering getting a new place but your apartment is rent controlled and a decent price and it’s close to everything, moving is such a hassle but the idea of going back there and living day to day life frightens you. You’ll be constantly on edge in that apartment, you know what needs to be done but that doesn’t make it easy.

Lying in bed and thinking about this isn’t going to make it better though, you’re just stressing yourself out. You groan dramatically to the empty room as you pull yourself out of bed, your limbs feel heavy. If you had your way, you’d stay in bed a little longer but you know Johnny will be leaving for work soon and you want to see him before he goes.

You find him looking like a mess in the hallway, trying to shuffle himself out the door, his phone is balanced between his ear and shoulder, fingers fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. He smiles when he sees you, mouthing a good morning. You smile back at him and shoo his hands away from his shirt, one drops to his side and the other hold his phone properly.

There’s some kind of issue with one of the actors in his films, you could probably gather more if you weren’t distracted by his skin peeking out from under his shirt. His voice is stern on the phone, a tone you’ve only heard a handful of times, one that’s rarely, if ever, directed at you. You want him to stay home and have his way with you right now but you’re starting to gather that the begging isn’t really working as well as you want it to, that and you do actually have to go back to work today.

When you’ve buttoned his shirt you pat his chest, he mutes his side of the call and holds his phone away from his ear, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you’re fighting to keep your eyes on his and not look at his lips.

His free hand holds the side of your face, “I’ll be back late today,” he looks away from you for a second, “I’d prefer if you didn’t go in today, I might not be available if you need me.”

You roll your eyes at him lightly, “I probably won’t need you, plus my shift is only short and I need money.”

“I can give you money,” his tone is slightly exasperated, his hand moves to hold your shoulder.

“I don’t want your money,” the idea of taking money from him, while also living in his home… is uncomfortable, you don’t care if he’s offering, you are not taking his money.

He looks you over carefully, ignoring the voice coming from his phone, “You really not going to take another day?”

“Nope, I can’t… not without risking my job,” you place your hands on your hips and raise a brow at him, you told him this yesterday.

His head rolls back and he groans a bit, the hand on your shoulder shakes you slightly, “Fine, but finish early and come straight back here,” his face pulls up in disgust, “I hate that, that little rat of a man is still out and about.”

Your lips twist from holding in a laugh, your hand salutes him as you say, “Yessir.”

He squints at you before putting his phone back to his ear, unmuting himself, the person on the other end had started to yell at him through the phone, “I am coming! Geez…”  He spins to leave but quickly turns around and presses a kiss to your lips, “I’ll see you later,” he rushes out the apartment after that.

You’re left shocked, staring at the door he just left out of. It’s not the first time you’ve kissed… obviously but the casualness of it has your stomach erupting in butterflies. He kissed you like it was the most natural thing, like it was a part of your routine, like you’re a couple. Your relationship with him has left you completely confused but how he doubled back just to kiss you goodbye has you smiling to yourself like an idiot all morning.

✰ ✰ ✰

The trip to work is nerve wracking, you’re worried about being back, you’re extra cautious of everyone around you, eyes scanning every face quickly, it’s not until you’re actually at work and can hide in the backroom do you feel the slightest bit better. Having people around you and being behind the counter puts you at ease, it’ll at least be harder for your ex to get at you, hopefully he doesn’t show up though.

You’re waiting the extra few minutes for your shift to start, as you sit and stare at your feet, you see another pair approach and stop in front of you. You’re scared it’s your manager but as you lift your head up to look, you realise it’s just one of your co-workers. Your shoulders drop, relaxing, knowing that you aren’t about to be scolded for you absence.

Your co-worker smiles down at you, “You’re back! Are you feeling better?”  

He is so chipper compared to your general unease about everything, “Ah, hey Michael, yeah… I’m all better,” you give him a polite smile.

“Are you sure? You don’t look so well…” he leans down slightly, as if to examine you closer before moving out of your personal space, “Sorry! I didn’t mean that in a bad way, you still look great! Beautiful, even… uhm, what I mean is… you just look a little run down,” his hand awkwardly scratches at the back of his neck.  

“I’m alright… thanks though?” You’re a little confused and aren’t sure what the appropriate response to him would be.

Michael is a nice guy and you’ve known him for a bit now, long enough to consider him a friend but he’s horribly awkward around you sometimes and you can’t figure out why, or what the suitable way to react to him would be.

He stands in front of you, rocking on his heels slightly, hands stuffed into his pockets, “I can take most of the orders and serve if you like? So, you don’t have to talk to as many people. You can hang back and wipe tables and stuff, the work people do when there is no work,” he laughs lightly.

You protest, if it’s been as busy as your manager says then you don’t want to put it all on Michael, “You don’t have to do that!”

He waves his hand dismissively at you, “It’s not been that busy, I’m happy to do it.”

The offer he makes sounds perfect to you, normally you would protest more but the risk of having to serve your ex is high and Michael has just unknowingly given you an out, “That… would actually be great, thank you. If things get busy though I will be on top of it!”

“Don’t worry about it, take it slow and let me know if you need me to cover for you or something… like if you need an extra break,” he’s still shuffling on his feet but he’s calmed a bit, “To be honest, if you aren’t feeling well, I don’t think you should be here.”

“Tell that to big boss man,” you snark out humourlessly.

His face pulls up in a sympathetic grimace, “He call you in, huh?”

“Yeah, he said you guys have been really busy and not so subtly threatened my job if I didn’t come in,” you wear a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes as you speak, sharing the bitten back annoyance you feel towards your manager.

Michael rolls his eyes, “That sure is one of his favourite moves, you know he wouldn’t have fired you though, too many of us would also leave if he fired you for being unwell.”

He’s right, most people would walk out, you know you would but you also don’t doubt your managers hubris, he probably would have fired you just to prove a point, even if it caused him to lose other employees too.

You half smile at him, “I dunno, I think he would fire me still, I also wouldn’t want people to leave here because of me, the pay is too good compared to other service jobs.” You glance to the clock behind his head and place your hands to your knees, pushing yourself up, “Oh well, time to start.”

Michael rolls his head and groans slightly, dreading the shift as much as you, “Great,” he looks to you again, “Seriously though, take it easy and let me know if you need anything.”

You smile and thank him again before the both of you clock on and walk out of the backroom.

The first half of your shift is uneventful, everything is quiet for the most part, busy your ass. Michael kept true to his offer and has been manning most of the orders while you hang back and make the odd drink or coffee, which you don’t mind, human interaction is not something you were looking forward to today and you somehow always end up with the weirdest customers.

The customers today, however, are mostly older people, you notice that there are only a few other people working, which is odd. The place is a small café/restaurant kind of gig, it’s nice but it can get busier and it can get busy quick, so you’re surprised by how slow it is today.

While you’re on your ten-minute break, your manager approaches you, “Glad to see you back.”

“It is good to be back,” you try to be as inoffensive as possible but you think your disdain for him is something that cannot be easily hidden.

He stares blankly at you for a moment, “Can you stay back today? Our closer called out.”

You remember Johnny’s words and how he had asked you to come back early, “I don’t think–”

“–It would be helpful, if you could, otherwise Michael will be alone.”

“Michael is staying back too?” You’re confused, normally you’d both be swapped out, actually, normally there would be at least another server on around this time.

Your manager looks exasperated with all this back and forth, “Yeah he’s already covering for someone else.”

Damn, Michael is such a pushover and you feel bad for him, you know you said to Johnny you would go straight back to his after your shift but you feel bad for your co-worker, that and the extra money is pretty enticing after not coming to work for a bit… plus… you still technically would be going straight back to Johnny’s, it would just be a little bit later.

You sigh out before answering, “I suppose I can stay back.”

“That’s great, thank you, take an extra ten,” he pats your shoulder and shuffles off.

You guess what he meant by “swamped” was actually “understaffed”, sounds like a lot of the servers have been calling out. Which kind of has you understanding his frustrations with you, you’re still pissed at him for handling it poorly though.

You use the extra ten-minutes to sit and zone out, staring at the bleak wall of the backroom. Distantly, you consider messaging Johnny to tell him you’ll be back later than you thought but he’s also meant to be late, so chances are, you’ll get back before him.

Before you have more time to think about it though, your break is up and you’re heading back out onto the floor. The hours tick by… so… slowly, the afternoon picks up a bit in business and you help with serving but then it dies down again not long after and you’re back to a coffee every now and again and cleaning.

The bell on the door dings as it swings open and closed, Michael greets them, their voice catches your attention and as you look at them, your blood runs cold. Your ex has just walked through the door and moved to sit at a table, Michael goes over to take his order and your heart feels like it’s about to pound out of your chest.

You aren’t sure what you should do, the cops weren’t helpful last time and you don’t want them coming to your place of work, you’re frightened and uncertain of what to do. He looks to you and you catch his gaze, he smiles at you and wiggles his fingers in greeting, you frown back at him and storm off to the backroom, giving yourself time to calm down.

Deep breaths in and out, in… and out… you focus on things around you, the feel of the wall under your palm, how your feet feel in your shoes, how your apron scrunches in your fist, your racing heart calms down, slowing to a more reasonable pace. You roll your head and crack your neck, trying to remove the stiffness in your bones, you think about Johnny, you think about how safe he makes you feel and you think about calling him. You won’t, you don’t feel like you should, he’s busy today and he said he would be unreachable… and you’re worried about what he may do, how it may upset him that you’ve agreed to stay back later.

Your energy is better spent calming down and pretending like your ex has not upset you, it’s a power move on his behalf, showing up here, he’s trying to scare you and while it is working, you are not going to let him know that, he will not be getting anything more out of you. He doesn’t deserve any sort of satisfaction, what he does deserve is another smack to the head but you will control that urge too, you really need your job.

Taking one last deep breath, you leave the room and go back to doing the odd jobs cleaning up, you continue your shift, ignoring him the whole time, you don’t even look at him, all of your focus is put into whatever you’re doing in that moment. You can feel him watching though, he stays the whole of your shift, watching you and hoping you’ll look his way, he makes your skin crawl.

Towards the end of your shift, when you’re closing up and everyone has left, Michael approaches you, “That guy from earlier, he comes in a lot lately and he’s usually fine… but today he was unsettling, he wouldn’t stop watching you,” he pauses and looks out the front window, “and I think he’s waiting outside.”

You groan, this is something you would rather not have to tell anyone about but since he’s picked up on it and you really don’t want to leave alone, you confide in Michael, “He’s my ex… and he’s been stalking me? Of sorts… it’s why I hadn’t come to work for a bit, I was worried he would come here.”

He makes a shocked face, “That’s horrific, have you told someone?”

“The cops know but they’re about as helpful as nipples on men,” you’re completely frustrated and you also don’t want to talk too in depth about this.

He chuckles at your statement, caught off guard by it, “Sorry, this is not funny but I’ve not heard someone say that before while also looking so serious.”

You also crack a smile, it was the first thing that came to your mind, it is a bit ridiculous, “It’s fine, it’s a stupid saying.”

“Definitely true though,” he adds before his expression turns more serious, sympathetic to you,  “I am so sorry this has been happening to you… you don’t deserve this, can I do anything to help? Do you want me to give you a lift home?”

You appreciate his offer deeply and while maybe you would accept it if you were staying at yours, you don’t feel comfortable giving him Johnny’s address, “No, that’s okay, I’ve been staying with a friend so I’m just gonna catch a cab to their place.”

“Are you sure? Do you want me to at least wait with you?” He seems a little apprehensive at leaving you on your own.

“I would like that, please,” you don’t want to wait on the side of the road by yourself, not with him right outside.

The pair of you walk outside together after double checking everything is packed away properly, Michael makes sure he’s on the side your ex is when you leave the building, not wanting him to possibly get at you. Your ex only watches, he doesn’t approach you, he just stands there, you don’t know what he’s doing but you feel like he may be waiting for you to be left alone.

You don’t speak, you don’t have anything to say, you’re trying your best to not show how unsettled by him you are, all of your focus put into keeping yourself calm. The sound of a lighter flickering is oddly loud in the quiet street, cigarette smoke lingers in the air, your ex has lit up a cigarette and the smell is making you feel sickly, though that might just be his presence altogether.

Michael places an arm around you before leaning in, “Are you okay? You sure I can’t just give you a ride?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you,” you smile at him and then pull out your phone, getting ready to order a cab.

A loud car is speeding up the street, the sounds make you roll your eyes, asshole, you think. It’s getting closer though, and then it’s pulling over right in front of you. The expression on your face is annoyed, pissed off, you want to curse out the asshole driving like a dick, you even go so far as opening your mouth to say something but as they get out of the car, you realise it’s Johnny, and then you’re shocked silent, your mouth closing very suddenly.

Michael is just as shocked and confused, his arm coming off you as he asks, “Holy fuck, is that Johnny Cage?”

Johnny walks straight to you, ignoring Michael, “Are you okay? Why are you still out? I told you to come back early,” his brows are set in a deep frown, eyes scanning you quickly, hands holding your face tenderly.

“I’m fine and I got asked to stay back, I was about to catch a cab–”

“–Why didn’t you call me?” His hands come off your face but one of them reaches down to your hand and grips it in his.

“You said you were going to be busy and unreachable,” you shrug, you know you could’ve sent a text or something but you didn’t want to be a nuisance, not when it seemed like his start to the day was already rocky.

“Not that unreachable,” he sighs, he looks around your surroundings properly, you think he may finally take notice of Michael who has been very patiently waiting to be acknowledged.

You try prompting an introduction, “Uhm, this is my co-worker, Michael.”

“Why the fuck is he here,” Johnny ignores your words, gaze set off to the side where your ex is, his hand grips yours a little tighter, he moves closer to you, glaring at your ex.

You don’t want there to be a scene, you want what you wanted before, you want to leave and go back to Johnny’s, you just want to feel safe again, “Johnny–”

“–How long has he been here for?” He barely glances back at you, still staring your ex down.

“Most of her shift,” Michael answers for you, it makes you cringe because you know Johnny is going to have a lot of thoughts about you not telling him.

Johnny finally acknowledges his presence, “What?”

“He’s been here all day… and then he was hanging around after close…” Michael looks to you, “Did I say something wrong?” He asks you a bit quieter.

“No, you’ve done nothing wrong,” you get Johnny may be a little on edge and severely pissed at your ex but he’s being overtly hostile towards Michael for no reason.

Johnny hums, “Get in the car, doll.”

You prompt him, “Johnny,” he looks to you and you keep talking, “Don’t do anything, I just want to leave.”

Johnny scowls, thinking on it for a moment, wanting so badly to walk those few steps over to your ex and beat the fuck out of him, he looks back to you and sees the way your eyes plead with him and he recognises you’ve probably had the worst day of work in your life, the psychological torture of having your ex watch your every move exhausting and frightening.

He concedes to you, “Fine, we’ll just leave.” He turns around to open the car door for you.

You turn to Michael and place a hand on his shoulder, “Sorry about everything and seriously, thank you for today, you made it easier being here.”

“Anytime, I hope the cops do something about your ex soon, I hate that you’re going through this,” he looks worried for you and you can’t blame him but you think Johnny does enough worrying about you for ten people.

“Have a good night,” you pat his shoulder before walking to the car.

“Hey!” He calls out to you before you sit down, “Uhm, if you need anything, text me.”

You smile at him as Johnny closes the car door, you give him a thumbs up from inside the car, you don’t think you’ll ask for his help but it’s kind of him to offer, he’s a very giving person.

Johnny takes a bit longer to get in the car, it doesn’t look like he says anything to Michael but he stares at him for a bit. When he does get inside the car, he wordlessly starts the engine and drives you both back to his. It’s tense and it feels like you’re in trouble, your leg is bouncing up and down with your nerves and he reaches over to you, placing his hand on your thigh, attempting to comfort you.

It works, slightly, you would feel better if he broke his silence and got his thoughts all out now but you know he’s going to wait until you’re both back at his apartment. His thumb rubs along your skin, soothing you, it calms you enough to sit still the rest of the drive.

Still, no words are spoken the whole way up to his apartment, nothing other than your small thank yous when he opens a door for you, mostly you trail behind him. When you reach the door he lets you in first, locking it and walking into the living room, you linger awkwardly but ultimately follow after him.

He must hear you follow because he doesn’t turn around as he asks, “What were you thinking? Your ex shows up while you’re working and not only do you not think to tell me, you also stay the whole shift and even work late?” He’s exasperated, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

You shuffle into the room more, “…We are understaffed and I didn’t want to make Michael handle that on his own, plus it’s good money… and I need the money, so I can pay for the apartment.”

He turns around to look at you, “But you didn’t tell me any of that? Just left me in the dark to come home to an empty apartment?”

Your brows knit together, starting to get frustrated with him, “You said you were going to be unreachable, of course I wanted to call you as soon as I was asked to stay back, as soon as he showed up, but I thought about your words this morning… and honestly, I thought of how you’re reacting right now!”

“So, you rely on some stranger?” His hands gesture angrily.

“Who?” you’re confused.

He grimaces, “The fucker with you tonight.”

“Michael?” He nods and you make a perplexed face back at him, “He’s not a stranger? He’s my co-worker and I have known him for a bit now,” you hesitate before adding quietly, “He’s a friend.”

Johnny crosses his arms and raises a brow at you, “A friend, like how I’m a friend?”

“What–”

He cuts you off, not even letting you ask your question, “­–Like how you’re begging me to fuck you any chance you get, kind of friend?”

You’re deeply frustrated with him, you don’t like his tone, or attitude, “What are you attempting to imply right now?”

“Nothing, I’m not implying anything,” he glowers at you, nothing secret about how he’s feeling right now, everything he feels is on his face.

He’s cutting you deep, your feelings run deeper for him than just physically and he has to know that by now, “I feel like you’re being incredibly unfair, I like you a lot and I want you in more than just one way.” You wrap your arms around yourself, pulling back from him.

He doesn’t say anything, he just stands there looking at you, still angry for no good reason. You turn around and leave him there, if you stay here looking at him while he does nothing but glare at you, you’ll cry.

You’ve just told him how you feel, you were honest and he doesn’t give you the same courtesy, not just now but ever, he’s not told you how he honestly feels and you can only put up with that for so long. You’re not a dog with a bone but he makes you feel like one, saying sweet nothings to you but not actually saying what he means or how he feels.

You head back to the guest room and flop onto the bed, allowing yourself a moment to sob, you’ve had such a shitty day and you wanted more than anything to come back here and tell Johnny about it, to be held by him while he told you everything is going to be okay. Now, you’re not only just upset about your workday, you’re also pissed at Johnny for how he just treated you.

From in your back pocket, your phone vibrates.

✰ ✰ ✰

You don’t really know how you’ve ended up here… well, you do, some of the girls from your college course invited you to a party and you were pretty keen to jump at the idea of escaping all your thoughts for the evening, you have tomorrow off so what’s the harm? Is what you had thought. You ended up sneaking out of Johnny’s apartment and ubering to the address you were given, from there it’s all a bit more hazy, you’ve been drinking a lot. Not typically something you do but you think after the day you’ve had, you earned it.

You do remember you left a note for Johnny to find, telling him you were fine and would be back late, you initially weren’t going to leave him anything but you thought that would be unkind, plus, it would only serve to worry him. Which, you genuinely don’t want him to stress about you so much, you are perfectly capable of caring for yourself, you’ve done it this long.

The night started out fun, drinking and dancing with these girls, but now you’re past drunk and they are nowhere to be seen. The people around you are getting handsy too, now that you’re alone on the dancefloor you’re an easier target. All the people in your personal space is starting to get to you and you end up pushing through the crowd of people to try and find some familiar faces.

It feels like you search the whole house twice but you can’t seem to find any of them, which is odd, you don’t know where they went or why they haven’t so much as messaged you about where they are. If you weren’t so far gone, you might worry about them more but the world is starting to spin a bit and you find yourself walking out the front and sitting on the stairs, you’re alone out here, well, alone besides the few people passed out on the lawn but you don’t think you’re going to count them.

The fresh air will hopefully help you feel better, you pull out your phone to order an uber and see a bunch of missed calls and texts from Johnny. You go to swipe the notification away but accidentally press it and your phone starts calling him back. Your attempts to hang up before he answers fail, especially since he picks up so quickly, the line barely ringing twice.

Johnny sounds pleased and pissed off to hear from you, “Thank god! Where the hell are you?”

“It said in mm note, at friends party,” your words are coming out slurred even though you’re trying to sound sober.

You can almost feel his glare through the phone, “Your note was stupid, why did you leave without telling me?”

You counter, “Would you have let me leave?” He doesn’t say anything, the other end of the phone in complete silence, “Exactly, plus mm still mad at you,” you state.

His tone is scrutinising, “Are you drunk?”

You ask him stupidly, “Are you?”

“What? Obviously not?” He sighs into the phone, irritated by you, “Just tell me you’re safe at least.”

“Mmmm, I think so? I dunno… actually can you come get me? I dunno where mm friends are and I don’t wanna be here anymore,” you lean your head to your shoulder, closing your eyes for a second.

He sounds relieved, “Yes, I can come get you, send me the address.”

You like listening to him talk, “You have a nice voice, sometimes when you talk it gives me butterflies in my tummy…” your words are lazy and you trail off.

Johnny urges you, “Hey, focus, tell me where you are, doll.”

“At a friend’s house… hmm hold on,” you think he may still be talking but you’ve pulled your phone away from your ear to text him the address, you hold the phone to your ear again, “Did ya get that?”

“Yeah I did, I’ll be there soon okay, hang tight.”

“Mm not moving, too comfy,” your head rests back to your shoulder, your eyes slow blinking with how tired you’re getting.

Your eyes slip closed and you switch between hearing all the things around you and hearing nothing at all, your head is somehow swimming with every thought you’ve ever had and not a single thing. You rub at your eyes, trying to stay awake and present but you lose the fight and they slip closed again.

You aren’t sure how much time passes but it feels like no time at all has gone by when Johnny shakes you awake, him standing in front of you so soon feels like a hallucination, he leans down to you and your hand reaches up and pokes his chest.

He makes a confused face at you, “What was that for?”

“Jus checking you’re real,” you murmur out.

“Jesus, sugar,” he shakes his head at you, “Come on, let’s get you home,” he reaches down to you.

“Mmkay,” you take his hand and he pulls you up, you fall into him slightly.

He walks you back to his car carefully, worried about your balance the whole time, his hands stay on you, assisting your steps.

“I’m glad you called,” he says.

You mutter back at him, “Didn’t mean to, fingers are stupid.”

He huffs at you lightly, “Okay, well…I’m glad you asked me to come get you.”

You’re hesitant, “Thank you… for coming,” your lips are downturned, still pissed off at him but grateful all the same.

He opens his car door for you, the second time today and you get inside, “I’ve said it before… but I’ll always come… when you call.” He leans over to buckle you in, when he pulls back his fingers hold your chin, “You just have to call me.”

You’re still pouting and you look away from him, he makes you weak and you’re not ready to forgive him, especially when he’s not apologised, “Can we jus leave?”

He sighs softly to himself, “Yeah… let’s leave.”

He gets you both back to his in one piece, you felt a bit dizzy in the car but you’re feeling sturdier by the time you’re back in his apartment. He leads you into the kitchen and gets you a glass of water, he makes you drink it all in front of him.

You watch him as he takes the glass from you and puts it in the dishwasher, you feel tempted to tell him, “Mm still mad at you.”

He holds onto the edge of the bench, “I know.”

“You really hurt me,” you add.

“I know,” he repeats.

His unwillingness to look at you or give you a better answer has you tearing up, “Are you even sorry?”

He still won’t turn your way, the sink more interesting apparently, “We can talk more tomorrow, it’s late and you’re drunk.”

“I’ve never been more sober in my life,” you argue.

“I somehow doubt that,” is all he says.

You roll your eyes at him, you’ve had enough, “Whatever, thanks again… for picking me up,” you leave the kitchen after that, not willing to stay and let him ignore you more.

You just want to collapse into bed and pretend like everything is fine, you want to pretend you’re back to a couple days ago, when you and Johnny were playing trivial pursuit. You want to think of how kind he was to you yesterday, when you cried in his kitchen while making pancakes and you’re not going to think about how he implied you were interested in sleeping with all your friends and minimised your feelings for him.

Talking to him again is not something you’re looking forward to, not if tonight is anything to go by, he takes up such a large place in your heart and to be treated like this by him feels… shattering. He’s always been so kind to you and to be spoken to like this, it’s devastating, you want to understand but you also want him to leave you alone for a bit, you’re not certain you’re ready to listen to whatever he has to say.

In your very slowly sobering state, you manage to get yourself into the shower and fresh pyjamas, having to do this tomorrow while hungover is going to be hell so your sober-self better be grateful to drunk you because this is far too much effort when you’d rather be curled up in bed crying over a stupid boy.

✰ ✰ ✰

Banging sounds in the kitchen jolt you awake, your head pounding from the hangover you’re currently sporting. The clanging not helping your current state at all, your eyes squint against the minimal light seeping into the room. The furrow set in your brow not helping the pain in your head, you must look incredibly angry right now… and remembering yesterday… yeah, you are incredibly angry right now.

Groaning you flop onto your side and notice that Johnny must’ve come in earlier because there’s some ibuprofen and water sitting on the nightstand next to the bed. You hate how thoughtful he’s being after saying some pretty thoughtless things, he’s not being fair to you at all. Just to get your ducks in a row, he implied you wanted to sleep with your friends, devalued your feelings for him, gave you the silent treatment, got upset that you left the house, wouldn’t talk to you last night, and then again disregarded you all while knowing he had hurt your feelings… yeah, you’re pissed.

Talking right now, or today, might be a bad idea, you’re not in the best headspace, whatever reason he has may not be enough for you. Ignoring the ache in your bones and head, you get up and pack away your bags, stuffing everything in haphazardly, staying here… might not be best for either of you. Being in a home with someone who is upset at you but not willing to speak about it… makes you uncomfortable, you were already worried about overstaying your welcome when things were good… now it feels almost unbearable.

You are thankful to drunk you for getting clean last night, it’ll make leaving easier, you change out of your pyjamas and crack open the door to scope out the area, double checking he’s not in the way. He doesn’t seem to be in the main areas, you think you may be able to leave without him noticing. Grabbing your bag, you quietly shuffle to the front door, it feels ridiculous, like you’re attempting to pull off some great heist, it’s not lost on you how stupid you’re being but you’re hurt, mad, and hungover, you get to be a little stupid.

“What are you doing?” Johnny’s voice makes you jump in place, you hadn’t even heard him approach you.

Slowly, you spin to face him, “…Nothing?”

His eyes look you over before focusing on the bag you’re holding, “Really? Because it looks like you’re trying to leave without saying goodbye.”

“Well, I just thought… after yesterday… it may be better if I leave… quietly,” your head is too sore to be standing here talking about this right now.

He frowns at you, his hands on his hips, annoyed by your choice, “Better for who? I don’t want you to leave and I never said that I did.”

“You haven’t said anything actually,” you point out, you don’t even know why he cares if you stay, he’s the one who started the ‘argument��� or whatever this is.

He sidesteps your statement, instead asking, “Where are you gonna go?”

You roll your head and look away, “Back to mine… probably.”

“While your ex is out there… actively stalking you?” His tone is dubious.

He’s annoying you with his logic, “I don’t know, Johnny, all I know is that you’re not talking to me and I don’t feel welcome here.” You’re starting to tear up and you curse yourself for it, “I was already hesitant to stay here and now you don’t look at me and when you do, you look so… angry and I don’t know why. I don’t know what I’ve done to upset you so much.”

He’s quiet and it seems like he’s not going to say anything… again. You sigh and turn to the front door, choosing to leave anyways but Johnny grabs your wrist, stopping you, “Don’t leave… please.”

You close your eyes for a moment, the light hurting your head, You turn back to him, waiting for him to continue talking; he lets go of your wrist when he’s certain you’re not going to walk away.

He adds, “I’m not upset at you–”

“–It feels like you are.” You interrupt.

He’s beginning to get exasperated, “I’m angry with myself, I’m pissed off and I took it out on you, and I’m annoyed that I did, I want to talk to you about this, I want to explain.”

“Explain then! I’ve given you chances to explain and all you do is stand there silently, I want to be able to forgive you,” you sigh at him again, “You’ve fucked up, if you were anyone else… I would’ve walked away already but I want you to give me the chance to forgive you.”

“I got pissed when I saw you with that– with Michael, it wasn’t rational but it made me realise… people your age are interested in you, there are people out there that are better for you… I– I had already known that… I just didn’t expect…” He’s getting pissed again, you can tell by the way he crosses his arms and his mouth pulls down into a scowl, “I didn’t expect the anger I would feel at seeing you with someone else, I didn’t… the idea of you being with someone else, of someone else touching you how I have, it makes me physically sick.”

You take a deep breath, “So… because you got jealous… you implied I wanted to sleep with my friends and ignored me when I told you I liked you?”

He looks like he wants to touch you, his fingers thrumming against his bicep, fidgeting, “I wasn’t thinking properly, I’m so sorry, doll.”

Your shoulders drop, your bag slipping, “I don’t know… how to react to this–”

He cuts you off to add, “–I like you too, a lot.”

His words make your heart skip a beat but you hold steady, “You can’t say that and expect me to just forgive you.”

He moves closer to you, “I know, that’s not why I said it.”

“I’m not forgiving you.”

“That’s okay,” he hums, “Can I touch you?”

This man does not play fair, “I–”

He touches you anyways, his hand holds the side of your face before he pulls you to him, hugging you tightly, “I am really sorry… I don’t feel good enough for you, you deserve better, you deserve more but I can’t help but feel incredibly selfish because the idea of someone else having you… it literally drives me crazy, doll.”

Being held by him, regretfully, has you feeling so much better, your bag properly drops from your shoulder, and you hug him back, missing his warmth. “You were mean.”

“I’m sorry,” he replies.

“I’d had such a bad day and all I wanted was to tell you about it,” your eyes start welling with tears.

He repeats, “I’m sorry.”

“I missed you,” you sniffle out.

His head leans down to you, nosing at your cheek, “I missed you, too.” You move to pull back, but his hands hold you still, one of them grasping your face, his lips brush against yours before he pulls back himself to say, “You know, I was also seriously concerned for your safety, I came home and you still weren’t back and I had no messages from you, nothing letting me know you were okay.”

You suppose, you can apologise for that much, “And for that, I am sorry.”

“I forgive you… this time.” He jokes, taking it lightly.

You look at him carefully, considering everything, “Johnny, I need to know what we’re doing.”

He’s confused by your sudden question, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, are we more than friends?” You need clarity, after having none for so long, you just need to know what the hell you’re doing.

His brows furrow and he pretends to think really hard, “Considering I’ve made you cum multiple times and stuck my tongue in your mouth… I’d consider you more than a friend.”

You groan and roll your eyes at him, pushing him back by his shoulder, it barely moves him, his hands instead grabbing your face and pulling you to him. He takes your lips in his own, his kiss full and passionate, it takes you by surprise and you make a small sound reminiscent of a whine.

He presses his forehead to yours, “Do you wanna be my girl?”

“Ugh, corny,” you complain but you hate how badly you want that.

He chuckles lightly, pressing kisses to your lips again, “I want you to be.”

You’re not fully paying attention, temporarily distracted by his kisses, “Mmm... Sorry, what?”

He simplifies, “Mine, I want you to be mine.”

You agree easily, “Okay.”

A smile spreads across his lips and then he moves to press kisses all over your face, “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

“Somewhat,” you answer cryptically, mostly because you’re annoyed by how easily he fixed everything.

“I’ll take it,” he breathes out a laugh.

You wince involuntarily, your head still pounding, your body reminding you of your adventures last night and the consequences that come along with them, “I need to lay back down.”

Johnny’s tone is worried, his hands hold onto your shoulders, putting some distance between you both to look you over, “Are you okay?”

You deadpan back, “Yeah… you’re just exhausting.”

“Not nice,” he complains.

You smile cheekily at him, “I’m kidding… mostly,” he forces a smile back at you and you laugh lightly, “I’m hungover… I just wanna lay back down and die."

"Bit dramatic don’t you think?” He asks.

You glare at him, “Says you.”

He raises his hands in a placating manner, “Completely correct, let’s get you back in bed hmm?”

The rest of your day is spent recuperating in bed, you’re in and out of sleep, sometimes only ever up long enough to eat or drink something. Johnny brings you… way too many snacks but he insisted on you eating, it was nice and also so much for your pounding head, you ended up asking him to leave you alone to rot for the day, which he reluctantly did. You think he’s still concerned you’ve not forgiven him and if you’re telling yourself the truth, while you really want to forgive him, it’s not that easy and your heart sits heavy, the ache he caused not forgotten.

You’re going to try really hard to move forward though because you can understand, while he didn’t go about it well… at all, he’s struggling with his feelings for you and you can understand that much. It also wouldn’t have helped that tension would’ve been high for him, with you out later than expected, no messages, only to find you and see you with a stranger, while your ex lurks in the background… hmmm, maybe Johnny held it together better than you’re giving him credit for.

✰ ✰ ✰

It’s late in the evening when you wake up properly, your heart racing as you sit up suddenly, you can’t quite remember what your dream was of but you remember it was not pleasant. Anxiety crawls up your spine and you think it may have had something to do with your ex, the unease that sits in the pit of your stomach reminds you of the way you felt while at work. You hug yourself, rocking back and forth for a moment, trying to calm down… it’s not helping.

Crawling out of bed, you head the few doors down to get to Johnny’s room, wanting to seek comfort from him. You knock lightly, trying to see if he’s awake, it’s late though so you doubt he’d still be up. You consider entering his room and waking him up anyways but you aren’t sure he’s been sleeping well lately so you turn around and head for the lounge room instead.  

You grab the remote off the coffee table before flopping onto the couch, laying on your side, completely stretched out, you aren’t going to be able to sleep anymore so you might as well find something to watch and get comfortable. There isn’t much on at this time of night though, nothing good anyways.

Somehow, you find yourself heavily invested in the channel that only sells things, all advertisements for stuff that nobody feasibly needs or would use more than once but for some reason, you are completely involved in what the man is waffling on about. Why yes, you definitely do need a little bear named ‘Tiddy Bear’ for your seatbelt so it’s less annoying… you don’t own a car.

You’ve somehow become so absorbed in the crap commercials that you jump slightly when Johnny leans over you from behind the couch, “Holy– Don’t do that,” you gasp.

His voice is deep with sleep, “Sorry sweetness… but what the fuck are you watching?”

You state simply, “Tiddy bear,” and then point at the television.

Johnny sleepily looks where you’re pointing, squinting against the bright light, “…Right,” you can practically see the thought enter his head as soon as he thinks it, “You know… I could always be you–”

You groan at him, “–Shuddup!”

He laughs as he looks down at you, “You don’t even know what I was gonna say!”

“I’m fairly certain I did,” you raise a brow at him.

He wears a lazy smile as he rounds the couch, he taps your legs and you tuck them up so he can sit beside you. Once he’s seated, he pulls your legs into his lap so you’re stretched out again. His hands absentmindedly massage your calves, he watches the advertisement with you for a bit, a new one playing, something called the wearable towel, it looks like a dress… but towel material.

Johnny frowns at the infomercial, confused, “Seriously, doll, what the fuck are we watching?”

“Well, I couldn’t sleep, so I was watching some tv and somehow got really into the infomercials,” you shrug.

He puts all his attention on you, “Why couldn’t you sleep?”

You shrug again, “It was nothing, just a bad dream.”

You don’t look at him, still watching the lady talk about how annoying traditional towels are, Johnny squeezes your calf so you look at him, “Could’ve woken me up, if you wanted to talk about it.”

You hum at him, “I didn’t want to disturb you, I did knock… on your door, to see if you were awake.”

“Hell, sugar, next time just crawl into bed next to me, I really wouldn’t mind,” he smiles at you and then asks, “What was it about?” He keeps massaging your calves, fingers digging into the muscle, it’s nice.

“I don’t remember… but it was… scary,” you feel embarrassed to admit that, you’re a grown adult, it seems silly to be frightened by a dream.

He considers you for a moment, not really sure on what to say, “Yeah, sometimes it’s like that.”

“I just felt dumb, having a bad dream, it feels childish,” you sigh, frustrated with yourself.

“The feeling was real though, it’s not childish, I’ve had nightmares before.” He rests his head back on the couch, “You’ve had the most stressful time lately… I’m honestly surprised you’ve not had more nightmares.”

You watch him, he’s looking up at the ceiling, “I was scared,” you admit.

“That’s normal–”

“–No, not tonight, I mean at work, when he came in and stayed my whole shift,” Johnny looks to you, his attention focused solely on what you’re about to say, “I was scared but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of effecting me… so I ignored him and I thought about coming back to you, I thought of how,” you take a breath and look away from him, “I thought of how safe you make me feel.”

He sounds emotional, “I make you feel safe?”

You look back to him, feeling bashful, “Johnny, you feel more like home to me than any place ever has…” You’re nervous, feeling open and vulnerable, but you add, “Yes, you feel safe, you feel like home.”

It feels like he looks at you for too long, his eyes looking over you, full of so many emotions that you can’t read. When he does speak, all he says is, “Move over.”

“What?”

“Move over, I’m getting in beside you,” he starts shuffling to lay down next to you on the couch.

You laugh, “Johnny, there is not enough room.”

“Yeah there is, lemme in,” he continues to lay down.

You roll your eyes but shuffle back as much as you can on the couch, your body close to slipping off the furniture entirely. He lays down on his side next to you, his arm coming around you, tugging you close and supporting you so you don’t fall off.  

You look up at him, “Why are we doing this?”

He huffs at you, “I wanted to cuddle with you.”

He looks sleepy right now, it’s endearing, “Why so suddenly though?”

“You said something cute and it made me happy,” he presses his face into the crook of your neck, his breath against you makes your skin prick, “I’m glad I make you feel safe… and I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, having him at your place of work… I should’ve been there.”

“I don’t blame you for that, I didn’t tell you,” you reach up and comb your fingers through his hair, “I– I wanted to call you but I worry so much… I worry about how much I burden you.”

He presses a soft kiss to your neck, it sends a shiver down your spine; he pulls back to look at you properly, his arm holding you as close as he can, “You aren’t a burden to me,” he holds intense eye contact with you, trying to show you how serious he is with one look.

“I just don’t want to worry you with silly things,” you tuck your head into his chest.

He vibrates with a hum, “Well, for starters, being scared of your freaky ex who is stalking you… is decidedly not silly, secondly, I’d much rather you tell me about the silly things, I want you to tell me everything that worries you, I want to help… can’t do that if you don’t confide in me, sweetness.”

“I’ll talk to you more… but you have to promise to do the same, you keep so many things to yourself and I want to support you, however I can,” you mumble into his shirt.

His tone is light as he agrees, “Deal, now can I make out with you, or is this an inappropriate time to ask?”

You scoff at him but pull back and press a gentle kiss to his lips, he groans as you move back too soon, “All you get,” you snicker.

“Not kind at all,” He complains.

You give him another quick kiss, “Funny though.”

“So funny,” he repeats humourlessly, scowl on his face.

You laugh at him and his hand moves up your body to the back of your head, his mouth crashing onto yours, the sudden contact takes you by surprise. You sigh against him and he licks into your mouth, his kiss deep. Your leg moves to hook around his waist, pulling your lower half closer to his, he groans into the kiss, his hand moves from the back of your head, down your front and under your shirt. He gropes at your chest, fingers pinching your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.

He moves his head down to your chest, pulling your shirt up and enveloping your nipple in the warmth of his mouth. His tongue flicks at you and you push towards him, soft sighs slip past your lips, your mind hazy. He bites at you lightly, his forehead resting against your sternum, he presses his face between your tits and sucks a hickey into the skin between them, his hand back to pawing at you.

He sighs against you, and then your world is spinning, he’s sitting up and taking you with him, you end up straddling him. His hands trail your body, tugging your shirt up and off your head, you lift your arms to help him. He leans forward and begins to leave more hickeys on you, marking your chest completely, your fingers thread through his hair, pleasured sighs leaving you.

He mumbles into your skin, “Take your pants off.”

You pull him back by his hair, “Excuse me?”

“Please?” He smiles at you. You look at him sceptically but he only continues to smile at you, “I’ll make it worth your while, promise.”

You concede and hop off his lap, pulling your pants off, you go to sit back on him but he tuts at you, “What?” You ask.

“Panties. Off.” His eyes are looking directly at your underwear, waiting for them to be gone.

You sway side to side, feeling timid but you comply and slip the garment down your legs, Johnny smiles brightly as you do as he asked. He makes grabby hands at you and you move closer to him, he grabs you and positions you over one of his thighs.

You’re a little confused, “What are you doi–”

“–Want you to ride my thigh, doll,” his hands encourage you to straddle his thigh properly.

“Johnny… that’s embarrassing,” you pout at him slightly.

“What happened to my eager little thing hmmm?” He grips your hips and starts dragging you back and forth on the material of his pants, “Promise it’ll feel good.”

You twitch on him slightly, it feels depraved to rut into his thigh while he watches but you start grinding down onto him lightly, your movements still uncertain. Johnny’s hands help facilitate your movements, wanting to see you do it yourself but also wanting control of the situation. Your cunt begins leaking onto him, the material of his sleep pants darkening under you, shudders run down your back and muffled whimpers get caught in your throat.

Your hands reach up to his shoulders, holding onto him to ground yourself, your fingers digging into his skin. His eyes watch how your pussy grinds into his thigh, smile still present on his face, absorbed in how you’re getting his leg all slick, the grey of his sweats now a dark grey. The friction the material of his pants give you is driving you insane, your need clawing up your spine, Johnny can tell you’re getting needier, based on how your eyes get glassy and your hips rut down into him more freely.

“There ya fuckin go, thas a good girl,” he comments.

His hands push you into his thigh firmer, the sudden change has you moaning out to him. You fall forward and tuck into his neck, your whimpers are breathed against him and he grunts at how wet you’re making his pants, at the little noises you’re making against him. You’re doing a lot of the work yourself at the moment, in the back of your mind you’re embarrassed at how you hump down onto him, at how damp you’re getting everything but Johnny seems so fucking pleased about it all.

You twitch into him and moan at the friction on your clit, the sound spurs him on, his hands grip your hips tightly and he moves you back and forth on his thigh quickly, your slick making the slide obscenely easy. Johnny’s own eyes are glassy, dizzy from how much you’re leaking on him, he moves one hand to pull your head back to look at him, he’s in awe of the fucked out look on your face.

“Mmm you always make the prettiest faces for me,” he compliments before taking your lips in his.

The kiss is messy, his lips demanding and desperate, his tongue in your mouth searching, consuming. He swallows down all the sounds you make for him, his own sounds shared in the kiss, when you part for a moment, strings of your saliva connect your mouths together. The evidence of how depraved in manner he kisses you sets you on fire, a whimper pulled from your chest. He smiles lazily at you, his thumb rubs over your lips, spreading your shared spit over them.

He pushes his thumb into your mouth and you take it, sucking on it gently, his eyes look wild as he watches you, “Need you to cum on my thigh, sugar.”

Your eyebrows pull up at him, your cunt clenching on nothing, your fingers dig into him as you continue to rock back and forth on him. Your stomach tensing, he pulls his thumb from your mouth and runs it down your chin, sternum, torso, all the way down to your clit, his thumb rubs circles into you, it makes you twitch against him. Johnny closes his eyes and seemingly remembers his goal very suddenly because he grabs you tightly again and starts forcefully dragging you back and forth, his leg bouncing, adding to the stimulation.

You gasp out to him, “Hah– Johnny~”

“Jus take it like this, cum like this, want it all over my leg, doll, want it stained into my fuckin pants.” His eyes are honed in on your cunt again, involved in how you’re dripping on him, how easy you slide on him.

Your voice pitches higher, “Johnny– I– mmph–”

He encourages you, already knowing, “Go on, soak my thigh, sweetness.”

You gasp and shudder against him, your hips desperately grinding down into him, your high so close. Johnny’s intense, greedy gaze on you is what undoes you, you twitch on him as you cum, pathetic whimpers sound from you as you rut down into his leg, he supports you as you finish, helping you ride out your high, feeding you praises about how well you did and how cute you look.

Once you’ve come down though, he keeps moving you into him, enjoying the way your body jolts in sensitivity at the action. You slump forward into him, small whines leaving your lips as he overstimulates you. He turns his face into your neck and lightly bites you, your cunt clamps down onto nothing, the pain shoots straight to your drenched pussy, a sad little moan slipping from you.

Johnny’s hands rub up and down your back, soothing you, “How you think you’re ever gonna be able to take my dick when you get fucked out this easily is beyond me.”

“I could take it,” you argue.

You can feel his smile against your skin, “I’m not so sure.” He pulls your face back so he can see you properly, “Yeah… I’ve missed that.”

You’re kind of hazy, mind making static noise, “Missed what?”

His smile turns devilish, “That cute little fucked out look you get on your face when I make you cum, a sight for sore eyes, doll.” You don’t get to say anything back, he picks you up and carries you with him back to his room, “Bet you’ll sleep fuckin fantastic now.”

You giggle against him because yeah, this might’ve done the trick.

✰ ✰ ✰

When you wake in the morning, you’re alone in Johnny’s bed, you lay still for a few more moments, enjoying the warmth of his large bed. You assume he’s gone to work; he’s probably messaged you but your phone is in the guest room and you don’t really feel like moving right now. You feel warm and safe wrapped up in his sheets, sleeping next to him was the best you had slept in weeks and you think he’s going to have to put up with you being in his bed more often now.

Eventually, after a few more moments of tossing around in his bed, you get up and wander down the hall to grab your phone. You were right, he had texted you saying where he was, he had to head in early and didn’t want to wake you. He should be back at a normal time though so you’re happy for that, it gets lonely in his big apartment.

You also have a message from your manager, telling you that you’ve got a few more days off… which is, surprising to say the least. Michael might have had something to do with that, which is kind but you need to figure out a long-term plan, on if you want to stay or go. Ideally, your ex would leave you alone, or the cops would arrest him for trashing your apartment but seeing as how they’re not all that useful, you don’t really know what to do.

At least now you have a few more days to consider your options, you were not looking forward to your afternoon shift. You’ll have to thank Michael next time you’re on with him, you don’t know what he said but you’re trusting that he didn’t divulge anything too personal, you didn’t even want to tell him about your ex, it was just unavoidable.

The day is uneventful for the most part, you clean the kitchen and guest room, you also make Johnny’s bed, you’re still a guest, it’s only polite that you clean up after yourself. There isn’t much else for you to do though, so you’re back on the couch, scrolling your socials and watching something inane as background noise. It shouldn’t be too much longer until Johnny gets back, you’re hoping anyways, you’re bored and want to talk to him regarding what you should do about your ex.

Speaking of… a text from that awful little man comes through, you forgot you hadn’t blocked him, you click on the notification and read it. Obviously, it’s all senseless anger, mostly name calling, not at all pleasant to read but after having him trash your home, this is not as scary as it would’ve been a while ago. You consider blocking him but then you think, this may help you actually.

He continues blowing up your phone on and off all afternoon, you end up silencing his messages so you can use your phone without being yelled at through the screen. It shouldn’t be but some of the messages are hilariously laughable, the fact you were with him for a whole year and he was like this? It’s almost inconceivable to you, how could you miss so much of his problem behaviour and why has he gotten so stuck on you.

One of his messages in particular sticks with you, ‘I deserved better.’ It makes you scoff, what a jackass. The rest aren’t as funny, they’re threatening and abusive and if you spent all your time reading them it would probably induce a panic attack.

Brushing it off, you put your phone down and involve yourself in the show you had put on hours ago, whatever his problem is, is not your fault and you shouldn’t bend over backwards trying to understand the motivations of someone so clearly mentally unstable. It’s not your fault, it’s something you have to repeat to yourself, so you don’t forget… because it’s not your fault and you won’t let him make you think that it is.

The front door rattles as Johnny unlocks it and walks into the apartment, you call out to him, “Welcome back!”

His shoes clack against the floors as he walks to where you are, “Hey, doll,” he pats the top of your head from behind the couch.

You bend your neck to look back at him, “How was your day?”

“…Annoying but thankfully shorter than some others,” he smiles at you, “How was your day?”

“Good, uneventful for the most part… well except…” You trail off as you watch him.

He steps over the back of the couch, it’s quite the show how his footing wobbles a bit on the plush cushions, you give him a quizzical look as he sits beside you, “What? Couldn’t be bothered to walk round.”

Laughing and shaking your head, you say, “You would’ve expended more effort climbing the couch than walking around it.”

He brushes you off, “Yeah whatever, just tell me about your day, what were you gonna say?”

Were you going to say something, “Hmm?”

“Uneventful day, except…?” He prompts.

You begin, “Ah, yeah, my ex started blowing up my phone, harassing me today–”

Johnny’s face twists into a disgusted scowl, “–You’ve not blocked him?”

You squint at him, silently admonishing him for interrupting you before you could finish, “Well, I had honestly forgotten to, he hadn’t even reached out until now but I think it may be helpful, in getting a restraining order on him, that way I can go to work and if he shows up the cops will actually have to do something about it.”

He considers your words for a moment, “Hmm, not a bad idea, want my help with that?”

“Please,” you smile sweetly at him.

He pinches your cheek and tugs lightly, “Of course, though…” he lets go of your cheek and you rub at it, “…I would prefer he were dead.”

You can’t help but laugh at the abruptness of his statement, “Right, well… I guess you’ll just have to settle for this.”

“Whatever makes life easier for you, doll,” he opens his arms for you to hug into his side, which you do.

He wraps his arms around you and holds you tight, you sigh against him, “I really just want him to leave me alone, so I can forget about him and move on, I don’t want to confront him, I don’t want to fight him, I just want to be left alone.”

“I understand that, we’ll make it happen,” he kisses the top of your head and you believe him.

You cuddle on the couch for a bit, enjoying his comfort but then your phone rings, checking the screen you see it’s a friend from college, “I should take this,” you tell Johnny.

He nods at you easily and lets you get up.

Taking your phone, you walk off to the guest room to get some privacy, “Hey! It’s been a while, what’s up?”

Her voice is chirpy through the phone, “It has been and nothing much, I just wanted to see if you were free to come round mine tomorrow? I need help with an assignment for that one class… with that one professor…”

You can practically feel how her eyes glaze over, you’ve already taken the class and catch on immediately, “Yeah I’m more than happy to help, I’m not sure how much help I’ll be… I’m still surprised I passed.”

She laughs from the other end, “But you did and at this rate, I’m closer to running away and living by the seaside on an isolated island than I am to passing this course.”

“Well then, I can be around tomorrow? Like, maybe midday? Can’t have you moving away, you’re like the only college friend I have… that I like.”

“Sounds good and I feel exactly the same about you,” you both share another giggle but she trails off, “…Have you been okay?”

You’re a bit confused by her sudden question, “Yeah I’ve been all good, why?”

She seems hesitant, like she’s not sure how to word what she wants to say, “Well… I’ve been hearing some… things… about you and it’s got me a little confused.”

You frown, “What kind of things?”

She sighs, “People in our circle have been saying you were cheating on your ex and that you’re broken up?”

“I mean we are broken up… but I did not cheat on him, I ended things with him for different reasons but if anyone cheated in that relationship, it was definitely him,” your fingers pinch the bridge of your nose, you have a feeling you already know who’s spreading the rumours.

“Yeah, I didn’t believe it but it’s really odd… that people are saying that, I always thought he was a little… freaky, so I got worried hearing about the rumours.”

You huff quietly, mostly to yourself, “Thanks for asking though… and not just assuming,”

“I like to think I know you well enough to discern what rumours are and aren’t true,” she lightly chuckles and it makes you smile.

Scratching the back of your neck, you ask, “A lot has happened but I can tell you about it all tomorrow?”

“I’d like that, you know I’m always here for you right?”

“I know,” you smile lopsidedly, you think you may need to get better at confiding in others.

You both share your goodbyes and hang up, you’re glad she reached out to you, honestly, if she wasn’t campus living and you didn’t have Johnny, you probably would have stayed with her, she’s one of the closest friends you have. It’ll be nice, telling a friend about everything.

Distantly you wonder how long the rumours have been running around and if this may be why you got ditched by those girls at the party and still haven’t heard from them, even after messaging them asking if they were okay.

This is such a frustrating position to be in but you think, if anyone believes the rumours without even asking you about them then they aren’t people you really want to be friends with anyways, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt though.  The only thing you’re really worried about is if Johnny is included in the rumours, you don’t want to ruin his career, or hurt his image, at the moment the rumour doesn’t seem to mention him but you don’t know how long it will stay like that.

You waddle through the apartment and stand in front of Johnny, “There are rumours about me circling,” you pout.

“What?” He’s confused and you don’t blame him.

You slump onto the couch, your shoulder bumping into his, “Saying I cheated on my ex and that’s why we are broken up.”

He grunts, “What a load of bullshit,” his arm comes around you, pulling you close, “Are you okay?”

Sighing, you say, “Yeah, I mean, if people believe it that’s not my fault, I’m just so exhausted, it feels like it’s one awful thing after another at the moment.”

He turns to you and kisses the side of your head, “Would you feel better if I fucked you?”

Your voice feels small, “Yes.”

“That’s too bad,” he smiles against you.

You pout at him, “Don’t kick me when I’m down.”

He chuckles, “How about I cook you dinner instead?”

You smile at him, “That would be nice too, I guess.”

“Could you help?” He’s worried about it not being edible.

You let out an airy laugh, “Sure.”

✰ ✰ ✰

When you had told Johnny you were going out today to see a friend, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, he has today off and he was hoping to spend it with you. He wasn’t about to stop you though, you need to see your friends, he’s glad to see you’re willing to talk to someone else about this. Sometimes, he worries that if he hadn’t heard your ex over the phone that first time, you wouldn’t have told him anything and that’s a scary thought to him.

He's left in the apartment alone and he’s bored, you’ve not even been gone long and he feels like a dog waiting for its owner to come home. Maybe he should feel a little pathetic about it but he’s pretty happy about where is, he’s scared… about the future but he’s also looking forward to his relationship with you. All he has to do is keep himself busy until you get back and he’s golden.

Some of your clothes are piled in his room, ever since he took you to bed with him a couple nights ago, you’ve been sleeping in here with him instead. Not that he minds, in fact, he’s got the opposite of complaints, the fact that you’re staying close to him and confiding in him, it makes him ridiculously happy.

The bag filled with your clothes sits on the floor in the corner, you’ve been here for a while now and you still won’t unpack, that bothers him. He won’t unpack for you, that’s invasive and will also probably upset you but he will pick up the clothes you left on the floor this morning, he’s just going to take them down the hall so they can get cleaned with his but as he picks them up, your panties slip from the pile.

He feels so ridiculously ashamed of how incredibly quickly his dick chubs up at seeing just your underwear, they’re cute… and now he’s thinking of you in them and nothing but. He rolls his shoulders and looks up to the ceiling, trying to ignore the growing ache in his cock but now all he can think about is you and how wet and needy you get for him.

Shamefully, he drops everything onto the ground and picks up your panties, his mind running wild. He feels like a fucking creep how he shoves them into his face and inhales deeply, his mouth salivating, he wishes you were home, he wants to fuck you with his tongue, it feels heavy in his mouth as his need grows.

His other hand slides down his body and undoes his belt before unbuttoning his slacks, he shoves his hand into his pants and groans as he grabs himself over his underwear. Your scent overwhelms his senses and he can’t hold off, he tugs his boxers and pants down, only enough so his cock is free, he’s desperate now, his dick twitching in need.

If he weren’t so stupefied by his thoughts of you, he’d probably recognise this as the creepy behaviour it is but right now he doesn’t care, he didn’t get to cum the other night after making you finish on his thigh and he’s been hesitant to try anything since but he’s so wound up it’s insane. After you had fallen asleep next to him that night, he’d pitifully moaned when he squeezed the base of his cock, just to get some kind of relief.

He's honestly not sure how long he’ll be able to hold off on fucking you, he wants it to be special for you, he wants it to be memorable, he doesn’t want to be just some guy you give your virginity to and regret… but in saying that… the need that claws at his insides every time he makes your pretty, cunt cum for him, is getting harder to control.

His hand not holding your panties grips onto the dresser for balance, his other hand reaches down to his cock, his tip leaks precum into your underwear, they’re soft as he moves them with his fist up and down his shaft. He sighs pathetically at the feeling of jerking off into your panties, his mind reeling with what it would be like to taste you, he wants to cum inside you and then lick you clean. His head falls back and he groans at the thought, his muscles twitch as he thinks of how pathetically you’d whine for him, your complacency with all the filthy things he does to you always makes his head spin.

With the amount he’s leaking into your panties, the glide is easy and his hand speeds up, a gasped grunt escaping him. He’s already on the edge of cumming just from thinking about tongue fucking you, he talks big game about you not being able to take him but he’s concerned that as soon as he sinks balls deep in you, he’s going to cum.

His chin falls to his chest and he watches how he fucks into your panties, his eyes are glazed over and his hand moves faster, he needs to cum, he knows it won’t satisfy him, not how he wants but if he doesn’t see your underwear coated in his cum, he thinks he may die. He thinks of you watching him cum into your panties, how embarrassed and turned on you’d be, it drives him wild and his cock jerks as he shoots his load into the fabric of your underwear. He groans deeply, his hips spasming, thrusting forward to ride out the euphoria.

He sighs, temporarily satisfied but his thoughts are still plagued by complete filth, he wants to make your pussy a complete mess for him. He wipes up his cum with your panties and tugs his pants back up, he’s going to need to calm down, he can wait for you to get home.

✰ ✰ ✰

The uber back to Johnny’s is boring, you’d had a good time with your friend though, you both pulled your hair out over the assignment and over your ex… but it was good, talking to someone. She was supportive and kind and she’s offered to sneak you into campus living with her if you need, which made you giggle. You told her about your plans to hopefully get a restraining order though, so you think you should be fine to go home soon.

It turns out, those girls… the ones you were at the party with, they’re apparently helping feed the flames of the rumour going around about you. At least you weren’t all that close to them, they just gave you a reason to go out and get drunk for a night. Whatever, you don’t want to put any more energy into all this, you’re going to go back to Johnny’s, you’re going to hang out with him and you’re going to trust that the court will let you get a restraining order against your ex.

When you get back to Johnny’s, it’s eerily quiet, you were expecting him to be watching a movie or listening to music… anything but it’s silent in the apartment and it’s freaking you out a little bit. Walking further into the main living area, you place your bag down and continue to wander around, looking for him.

You call out for him, “Johnny?”

He stumbles out of his room pretty quickly at the sound of your voice, “You’re back! How was it? Did you have fun?”

You squint at him a bit, his mannerisms odd, “…Yeah, it was good, I’ve missed her so it was nice… catching up.”

He fidgets in front of you a bit, like he’s antsy, like this is all a formality and he doesn’t really care, “That’s good! I’m glad you met up with her, I’ve been worried about you a bit lately…” His eyes roam over you, his fingers tapping against his skin.

“…Johnny?” He hums at you in reply and you ask, “Are you okay? You seem… on edge.”

His eyes flick back to yours, “Yeah, doll, I’m groovy, easy going,” he gives you a big cartoonish smile, it’s a little strained.

Frowning, you walk closer to examine him and he intakes a small, sharp breath, “Are you sure? Because you’re really twitchy right now.”

“Did anything else happen? Do you want to talk?” He’s clearly changing the subject.

You decide to let him, “No? I’m fine, we talked, I helped her with her assignment, nothing special,” you shrug at him.

“Okay, good,” is all he says in response. Just as you’re about to ask him what he means by that, his hands are on you, pulling you close, his mouth hovering right over yours, “I missed you, sweetness… bad.”

Your voice shakes slightly, the proximity getting to you, making your skin all hot, “I’ve not been gone lo– mmph–”

He cuts you off, his lips on yours are demanding, his kiss searing, like he’s been waiting his whole life to kiss you like this. You reach up and grab a hold of his shirt, hands fisting the fabric, trying to ground yourself. His hands are on you… everywhere, they grope and pull at the skin of your hips, at the fabric of your shirt, even palming your breasts, his touch is heated and needy, it’s making you dizzy. A small, whimpered moan leaves you involuntarily and he takes the chance to lick into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

With how he’s kissing you and how he’s touching you, your faculties are eluding you, your mind foggy. You’re the one to pull back first, needing air. Resting your forehead against his chest, you catch your breath and attempt to think straight again. Which is, surprisingly difficult, your eyes feel wet, everything about you feels malleable right now, he could probably say the stupidest thing on Earth and you’d still be weak in the knees with hearts in your eyes.

You lightly giggle against him, “Feeling needy?”

He grunts at you, “Doll, you got no fuckin clue.”

You think you may have some clue, “Bold statement coming from the man who still won’t fuck me even after I have asked so nicely, so many times.”

He rolls his eyes at you, only a little bit amused, you’re waiting for his smartass reply when he suddenly picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, walking back to his room with you.

“Wow, talk about desperate,” you joke.

“Keep talking, sweetness, enjoy the upper hand while you can still talk coherently,” he drops you onto his mattress, his form standing over you from the foot of the bed.

You know he’s right, and yet, the need to challenge him like he doesn’t render you speechless from a kiss hits you anyways, “Cocky, much?”

“Could say the same thing to you, at least mine isn’t false confidence,” he winks at you and begins unbuttoning his shirt.

You lean on your elbows and watch him intently, his skin slowly being revealed to you, he’s being a tease on purpose. Summoning your courage, you tug your pants down your legs and toss them off the bed, not stopping, you tug your shirt off completely too, your bra following not long after. Johnny stops what he’s doing, his shirt fully undone but still on.

Smiling up at him, you ask, “Something wrong, sugar?”

He rolls his head back, a sigh coming from him, “Feeling mean today?” He asks, shrugging his shirt off his shoulders.

“Only a little bit,” you’re honestly a little bit shocked with yourself, you feel nervous and exposed.

He climbs onto the mattress and you shuffle back as he moves up, his form large over yours, he leans down and places a hot kiss on your lips, “Gonna stick my tongue in your pretty pussy, babe.”

Somehow, the crudeness of his words always shock you, “Okay.”

His smile at your reply is wolfish, giving you one last kiss before he’s moving back down the bed and pushing his face into your panties. You squeak and jump at the feeling, he only hums against you, seemingly pleased at your reaction.

“Wanted to put my mouth on you all day,” he mumbles against your core.

You can only gasp in reply, his mouth opening and latching onto your cunt over your underwear, his tongue wetting the fabric, his nose rubbing into your clit. His hands hold you open and you fall flat onto the bed, not able to hold yourself up. When he detaches it’s only to pull your panties down your legs and off, his eyes are wild and he stumbles over his movements in his rush.

He's right back in between your legs as soon as he can be, his mouth not wasting anytime in how he immediately licks at you, fucking his tongue into your hole. A hand reaches down and threads through his hair, you give it a light tug and he moans against you. Your back arches for him, hips moving against his face slightly, your body moving on its own accord.

Johnny’s own hips covertly rut into the bed below, his senses overtaken by you, how you smell and taste, it’s making him dizzy, he’s been looking forward to this all day. He’s practically drooling into your cunt, his skin on fire, how you writhe and twitch on the mattress isn’t helping. Knowing he’s making you a needy, whimpering mess is making his cock ache even worse than it did this morning.

You’re gasping and whining for him and he moans into your pussy, his hips humping into the mattress in a more obvious manner as his desperation grows. His hands push on the back of your thighs, lifting your legs up and giving himself more access to your gooey cunt. He’s eating you like he might die if he doesn’t, like you’re his only salvation and you’re already so close to cumming for him because of it.

The grip you have on his hair tightens and he borderline whimpers into you, his movements not ceasing, if anything they pick up, his tongue moving quicker. Your stomach twitches and pulls, your orgasm fast approaching, Johnny can tell, he knows by how slick you get, how pitched your whines get.

You want to tell him, “Johnny, mmm–”

He grunts into your cunt, already aware and actively trying to have you finishing on his tongue, he wants it all. He wants you to cum directly into his mouth, he wants to drink it all down and then he wants to shove his tongue in your mouth and make you suck on it, tasting yourself through him. His cock twitches in his pants, his mind moving a million miles a minute, shamefully, he’s close to cumming in his pants.

Suddenly, he shakes his head against you, his nose moving over your clit, the stimulation shocks your orgasm from you, stumbled syllables vaguely reminiscent of Johnny’s name tumble from your lips, sounds that he relishes in, his hips stutter against the mattress as your cum floods his senses. The way your pussy spasms and creams on his tongue undoing him completely, his cum no doubt staining the front of his slacks, shivers running down his spine.

The orgasm he gives you and how taken by surprise you were, renders you wordless and thoughtless, only the sounds of the blood pumping in your ears can be heard, everything else is like white noise. You huff and shake slightly, the buzz in your veins delicious, he was right, about rendering you completely speechless, you knew he would be.

He licks at your pussy a bit longer, until you’re jerking away from him, too sensitive, you close your legs, knees touching, giving yourself some reprieve. Johnny pulls up and off the bed, once he’s standing, he yanks his pants off. You don’t miss the way his slacks and boxers are damp with his cum, he’s made a complete mess of himself.

You feel shy, “You came from that?” You’re completely shocked that he’s managed to finish just from humping the mattress and tongue fucking you.

“Got such a pretty little pussy, I’d cum from watching you play with yourself,” he plays it off easily, not an ounce of shame in his bones at the moment, only a large grin plastered on his face.

The embarrassment his words cause you is immense; your face feels warm and you can’t tell if it’s from your orgasm or what he’s just said. He crawls back on the bed, his cock already hardening again, apparently… he’s not done. His cock is shiny and slick from his own cum, his tip red and already leaking again, it’s making your head spin.

Your voice feels small, you feel small, “Are you gonna fuck me?”

“No.” His answer is dead on, no room for argument, as per usual when it comes to this topic.

“Then what–”

“–Gonna play with you how I like,” he strokes his cock as he looks down at you, “Open your legs, sugar.” You pout slightly, and he rolls his eyes at you, “Come on, sweetness, I’ll make you feel oh so good. Promise.”

You scowl at him lightly but open your legs for him, one of his hands moves to hold you open further. “You said you would fuck me,” you complain.

“I said maybe,” he counters.

He doesn’t wait for you to continue arguing with him, already moving his tip through your folds, he skates against your wet pussy and it has him shivering. He leans down over you, the length of his fat cock resting against your cunt, he holds himself up over you by his forearms. His hips begin slowly grinding down into you, everything is so slick and wet, your skin slipping against each other. He plants a kiss on your lips, his tongue entering your mouth straight away, wanting you to taste yourself. You moan into him, soft sighs also leaving you.

When he pulls back, you try again, “I want you, please.”

He groans, his hips stuttering, “You have me right now.”

“Want you inside me,” you nearly sob.

“Fuck– Not today,” his voice is hoarse.

“Always– mmph– always feel so empty,” your eyes are wet and glassy as you look at him, not so silently pleading, “Ngh– Wan you to fill me, please, Johnny.”

“Fucking– no, hnng– why– god– why do you want your first time to be now? Of all times?” He huffs against your skin, his cock painfully erect, throbbing and leaky for you.

“Don’t care mmph– don’t care when or where, just who,” a tear slips down your cheek, your need practically tearing you apart at the seams.

Johnny nearly whimpers, his cock jerking against you, his tip sliding over your clit makes your skin itch, the desire to be fucked full of him overwhelming you. It’s cruel, it feels heinously cruel how deprived of him you are, is it so much to ask to be so full of him you’re sobbing? You don’t think so, your breath stutters as he continues rocking back and forth between your folds.

“I care when and how,” he bites back, nearly snarling at you.

You share your frustration with him, loose lipped in your pleasure and need, “I jus wan –­ngh– you to fuck me blind, I can’t, I need it– mmph– Johnny please!”

He actually does whimper this time, “Fuck– doll, you can’t– don’t do this to me,” he’s in such a weak state today, his desperation for you driving him insane.

The way you’re begging for him to stuff you full of his dick, is going to kill him, he already wants so badly to feel your tight, wet cunt wrapped around him but he wants to do it right. Your begging is chipping away at his resolve, his mind filling with images of how he’d stretch you out on his cock, how your eyes would roll back in your head as he fucks you just right.

His cock is making an absolute mess of you both, your lower halves completely coated in slick and cum, his head ducks down to look between the two of you. The underside of his cock glazed with your cum nearly sends him into a frenzy, he moans at the sight, forehead falling to rest on your sternum.

You hook your legs up on either side of his hips and he chokes at the change, his thrusts speeding up, one of his hands reaches down and digs into the fat of your thigh, nail biting into the skin. You gasp and whine, your mind slipping from you, you want to beg him more, you want to plead with him to have mercy but you’re not sure you can find the words anymore.

You sob over and over, begging him, “Please, please, please, please–”

He looks back at you, eyes sharp, “You’ll take what I fuckin give you or I’ll never touch you again,” he cautions, his tone harsh.

“Johnny~” you whimper, eyes large and dazed.

He tuts at you, his tone mocking, “Poor thing, not being satisfied sexually?”

You could almost cry, his words feel so mean.

He glares at you, “Know what I did while you were gone, sugar?”

You shake your head at him, a gasp leaving you as his cock head catches on your clit.

“Got me so fuckin– so needy,” he ridicules your usage of the word from earlier, “that I got hard at the sight of your panties on my bedroom floor.”

A strained and small noise leaves you, not at all expecting him to admit to something like that. His hand holds onto the side of your face and tilts you up to look at him, he’s looking down his nose at you and it really shouldn’t arouse you as much as it does. His hips don’t stop, never stopping, he couldn’t, not even to punish you, it’d be hell for him too. He needs this, it’s as close as he’s going to get to fucking you and he’d have to be put in the fucking ground before he’d remove himself from you, he needs you to cum on his cock like this.

“Wanna know what I did with them?” He asks suddenly.

You’re distant but not gone and you nod in response, curious.

He smiles evilly and leans down to whisper into your ear, “I fucked them, tugged on my cock until I came in them. Only thinking about your cunt and how fucking divine you taste, how badly I wanted to stick my tongue in you,” He licks the shell of your ear, “I think– ngh– that you’re getting off easy.”

“Johnny,” you whine at him, the only thing he’s succeeded in doing is making your hornier for him.

“One day. One day I will fuck you open on my cock but today and right now, you’re gonna fuckin behave and cum like this,” it’s a promise, one he intends to keep.

A shiver runs down your spine at how low and authoritative his tone is, a pathetic moan leaving you, one that Johnny doesn’t miss, not if his smile is anything to go by. He doubles his efforts into sliding his cock through your folds, his hips moving quicker, more weight put behind them, it makes you whine and wriggle under him. The hand he had on your face moves back to your hip and grips you tight, forcing you to stay still for him.

He's moving desperately, wanting so badly for you to cum like this, he wants to fuck his whole cock into you but is too damn stubborn to do it now, he doesn’t want your first time to be like this. His abs clench and twitch, his own end fast approaching him, his head leans down to your neck and remembers the other night, he pays extra attention to how close you’re getting, pressing soft kisses to your neck as he continues thrusting against you.

Your pussy is throbbing for him, you’re so unbelievable close and it has you seeing stars, Johnny can tell you’re right on the edge and just as you’re about to cum, he bites into the junction between your neck and shoulder, harder than the other night. Your cunt jumps at the shock of pain and you moan pitifully loud, tears that had been sitting in your water line slip down your cheeks as you spasm and cum for Johnny. He groans at the sounds you’re making for him, at the way your cunt gushes with your orgasm, making an absolute mess of yourself and his dick.

He holds off to let you ride out your high and then he’s pulling back onto his knees, jerking his cock while watching the way your pussy clenches on nothing, he whimpers and wishes he was fucking you full. In just this moment, he wishes he were a worse man but he settles for this, he fists his cock, and just as he’s about to cum he notches his tip at your entrance, not pushing in at all, just resting it there, his cum entering you as much as it can from this position.

You wriggle your hips at him, pushing down slightly, his hand immediately shoots out to push you down, knowing you’d absolutely attempt to take him all, even if it hurt. He can’t help how aroused that thought alone makes him, you’re willing to hurt yourself to take him all and it tugs at something ugly and primal inside him.

After he’s dumped his load on and partially in you, he pulls back, watching the way his cum has coated you. His finger moves to collect it and he begins pushing it inside you, his finger stretching you open as he stuffs you full of his cum.

The grip you have on him is making him lose his mind, “God, you’re so fucking tight.” He groans.

You can’t offer much else but blabbered words, nothing you say very coherent, not for lack of trying though.

Johnny only chuckles, amused by how stupid you are right now, he’s not able to control himself and he begins opening you up on both of his fingers, fucking you with them. His cum making it easy, his only aim was to fuck it into you but now he wants you cumming again, the sounds you make when you cum, they’re something he hopes he never forgets. He’s playing with you, his fingers leaving to spread his cum around some more before re-entering and pulling you apart by the very fibre of your being.

You’re whimpering at him, trying to tell him you’re sensitive, that it’s too much, that you’re going to cry but he either doesn’t understand or doesn’t care and based by how pleased he looks when you begin sobbing for him, you’d safely assume it’s the latter.

He smiles brilliantly at you, “You’re such a pretty doll.”

It’s too much, “I can’t– ngh–”

“–Hmmm? What was that?” He’s taunting you; he knows what you were going to say.

 Your eyes roll to the back of your head, another orgasm already fast approaching you, sadly you think it’s significantly spurned on by how cruel he’s being to you. Your body shakes, your legs try to close but he holds them open easily, his eyes intently watching how you take his fingers.

“Sucking me right back in, got such a needy pussy, I swear,” his fingers move quicker, stroking into one spot that has you gasping out a shocked moan, “Making such a fuckin mess, sweetness, can you hear how fuckin messy you are, hmm?”

You can, the obscene noises of your shamefully wet cunt fill the room and you still find it in yourself to be embarrassed, even when reduced to a sobbing, whimpering, state. Your arm moves to cover your face and Johnny tuts at you, disapproving of the action.

He directs you, “Wanna see your pretty face, doll, keep looking right. at. me.”

Forcing yourself, you look at him, your eyes barely able to stay open, everything you see is blurry anyways. Johnny moves his thumb to circle your clit, you’re sensitive and it makes you jump, your instinct to move away, not that you get very far. He is insistent, his hand never slowing and his thumb never moving, the added stimulation has your stomach doing somersaults.

Your cunt clenches down on his fingers and Johnny groans at you, “Atta girl, there you fuckin go,” his voice is soft, encouraging.

Your orgasm wracks over your body, mind hazy and nowhere within reach, everything you moan out isn’t even close to sounding like words, the only coherent thing being Johnny’s name. Your back arches and he pins you back down again, his fingers and thumb still moving, aiding in your orgasm. It’s becoming too much but you can’t even move away from him, only able to take the overstimulation until he’s satisfied. Everything is… dark and you can’t hear a damn thing.

He does eventually show you mercy, removing his fingers from your pussy, he taps your clit a few times just to watch how you jump and spasm at the contact though, and then he really does pull back. His eyes stay on your cunt though, watching you for a moment before his gaze wanders all over your body, taking in how blissed and fucked out you look.

Wistfully, he murmurs, “I’m gonna shove my cock so deep inside you, you’ll feel me in your stomach.”

“Johnny–”

“–Not now but one day,” he laughs airily, leaning down to kiss you tenderly on the lips.

He gets off the bed and pulls on some pants, leaving to grab a cloth and water, you lay on his mattress completely gone, not a single thought in your head. When he comes back, he cleans you up and makes you drink the water.

“You make me drink a lot of water,” you mumble around the rim of the glass.

He’s watching you, completely charmed by you even though you’re a naked mess drinking water in his bed, “Need you to stay hydrated, don’t want you passing out on me.”

“Keep making me cum like that and I just might,” you pass him the almost empty glass and he places it on the nightstand. He hands you one of his t-shirts and you put it on, appreciating the cover. 

“So… you’re into biting, huh?” He’s teasing you, his grin large.

You pout at him, “Don’t be mean… panty thief.”

“Oh, how you wound me, sugar,” his hands dramatically clasp at his chest over his heart. You roll your eyes at him and he instead asks, “Wanna watch a movie?”

“I am not moving,” you say, stretching your achy muscles out.

He offers, “What if I carry you?”

“…I could be amicable to that.”

“Yeah, I fuckin bet,” he chuckles but carries you to the lounge anyways.

The movie you end up watching is one of his, which should be a shock to no one, it’s not like you’re entirely conscious of the plot though, you’re still off in the clouds. Something Johnny admonishes you for, “Pay attention!”

You argue back, “I’m tired, plus I’ve seen this one before!”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he jokes.

“I could say the same to you,” you sigh, snuggling into his side, he wraps his arm around you and holds you close.

This is the most peaceful you have felt in a while, you feel safe and cared for and you think, you could stay like this forever.

✰ ✰ ✰

Thank you for reading it all !!!!! I know it was quite a lot to get through >v< Let me know your thoughts/feelings and reach out if you have questions !!! ily and have a beautiful day/night <33

[miniwheat77]

Silence. (Ghost x Reader.)

!nsfw, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, trauma, panic attacks, blood, death, MDNI!

Short lil ghost fic, hope you enjoy. 💖 (not edited)

If there's anything that's more scary than a warzone.

Anything more terrifying than running through a battlefield, bullets flying past you, explosions around you.

A war is terrifying. But there is one thing even more chilling than that.

Silence.

It's all they hear on your end of the radio. Silence.

Just minutes ago you were responding, you were alive and well and talking to them. Now, nothing. It takes them all off guard. They're worried about you immediately, needing to get to your last coordinates. So they rush there.

They can see your trail. Blood and bodies lay in the wrath that was once you, ambushing and killing to get to the reason behind this mission in the first place. One that they hadn't clued you in on in the first place. Now, as they approach you, they realize they should've. They should’ve asked more questions because it might’ve saved you from what’s to come. You've stumbled upon a lab, standing where you are. You're grief stricken and there's nothing anyone can do to stop it now. Thousands of photos line the walls. Test subjects, something that you had once been involved in. You're sick the moment you see it. The photos, the blood. The wounds and the innocent people dying when there's nothing you could do.

"What the fuck is this?" The venom is clear in your tone as you spin to look at your Captain, who had failed to tell you what this mission was in the first place.

You turn back toward it. "I'm sorry Y/N. I had no idea. It was Laswell who set it up." He stresses at the way you look at the photos on the wall. You seethe, staying quiet. Turning back and making your way to the wall. You tug a photo off, tack falling to the ground. You see the innocent girl inside the photo and you recognize who she is. Having seen her killed the same day you had escaped, your empty promises to her. How you'd get her out and she'd get to see her family again and how you watched a bullet pierce through her skull. Her lifeless body falling, blood spattering onto you. It was then when Captain Price had arrived to help you.

It's what made you decide to join the task force after everything. After being kidnapped and tortured by a foreign enemy. How nobody seen or heard from you for months, how they knew not to send you on anymore missions involving this operation knowing that you were one of few surviving members. It would set you off and that's why you stayed away from it. John was going to let Laswell have it when he got you back to base.

It takes little to nothing to send you into a fit of rage. You start ripping everything off of the walls, throwing equipment, kicking, and destroying everything physically around you. You needed to.

They let you until you're hyperventilating.

It takes Ghost to pull you back, nobody else was brave enough to intervene and he holds you to his chest as you flail and pant, blinded by the memories of being held captive and being tortured. Watching all of those innocent people die around you, some of which were your own. You didn't take enough time to heal and that was apparent to Captain Price as he watches you freak out, having bottled everything up. Watching it explode as you fell into a full blown panic attack. He shakes his head, seething as he exits the building. Phoning Laswell the moment he could no longer hear your cries.

"John."

"So help me god Laswell. If you knew what this was and you let me bring her in here.." He hesitates.

"What do you mean?"

"This is a direct connection to the operation Y/N was in before this task force, Laswell. She's hysterical." He hisses. Laswell can tell through the phone that he's beyond pissed.

"I didn't John, I had intel from some other sources. I didn't know." She hesitates. "Well. Double check next time." He stops responding after that.

When John returns, Simon is still holding you, but he's turned you away from everything that you had just destroyed. Your eyes are bloodshot and you have tear stains on your cheeks. You stare ahead like there's nothing going on behind your eyes and it's unnerving.

Silence.

Nothing but silence and they hate silence. Ghost holds you tight. Like if he lets go you'll disappear into thin air and John silently thanks him for it. Ghost of all should know how you feel right now. Having lost everything himself. When he feels you're ready, he moves you from the room. Helping you up but keeping your head turned away from everything. You didn't need to see this anymore.

When you arrive back on base, you’re silent. Making a b-line right for your room and they don’t see you for the rest of the night. You sit in there for the most part. Your reaction today probably scared everyone and you wish you hadn’t reacted the way you did. But you couldn’t control yourself.

Something shocked you today.

Ghost. The way he held you. You knew he was one who was never into physical touch or affection but that’s all he’d done. He held you to his chest, whispering nothing but soothing things into your ear to calm you. And the fucked up part about it was how well it had worked.

For the next couple of weeks, the aura around Ghost is different. Your eye contact is prolonged in passing, and whatever you feel. You know that he can feel it too. When you pass by him, it’s like everything moves in slow motion and he holds your eye contact until the last possible second. His gaze is chilling.

It’s you who seeks him out first. Late at night, you come knocking and you don’t know why. You don’t remember your feet carrying you to his door this late at night but it’s almost like he’s waiting for you. Still fully dressed despite the hour. You raise your hand and hesitate before you knock very quietly. He says nothing as he opens it up and sees you. Eyes just piercing yours. He steps to the side, allowing you in. Not a word spoken between the both of you. You stand in the middle of his room, turned toward him as he closes the door. You can see his gloved fingertips twist the lock. Swallowing hard, your eyes trail back up to his eyes.

You’re the first one to break the silence.

“You feel it too… don’t you?” You’re already breathless and it comes out more pathetic than you think it does.

He says nothing. Which is the answer you think you want. Ghost is guarded, of course he wouldn’t admit to it. But he’d also deny you if it weren’t true.

He’s on you before you even have time to react. His mask is pulled off and his lips are on yours, pure Ghost. Nothing but a killing machine who you’d hardly talked to before all of this. He’s got you pressed against the wall. He helps you remove your sweatpants, tugging them down your legs.

A hiss leaves your lips as he raises you up. He holds you against the wall, pressing his knee up against it to reach for his belt and zipper. Tugging his jeans just past his cock to free it. You can feel his bare skin brush against yours. Not a single fabric blocking him from you now.

His shaft presses against your entrance and he has time to think about if he should do this or not.

He stares you in the eyes, they’re watery and puffy. Your lips are blushing and plump from kissing him.

“Please-“ you mewl. “Y/N.” He warns. Finally coming to, enough to realize what he’s doing. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to take advantage of you.” He hisses.

“Simon.” Your voice is low.

“Fuck me until it hurts-“ you hiccup. Looking up at him.

His breath hitches in his throat. He rests his cock right up against your entrance and watches your face for any discomfort for at least a minute.

When he sees nothing but pure lust in your gaze, he thrusts up into you. Penetrating you. He cuts your cry off with his hand but hears just a second of it. It rattles him to his core, the way you sound. Ghost doesn’t know what this is, what his sudden feelings for you are. And it’s so weird that you felt everything too. Something has changed, drastically. He holds your hips tight to the wall as he hammers his hips into yours, your own hands clamp over your mouth. He’s rough, but in the most pleasurable way. Even with his tight grip on your hips, fingertips sure to leave bruises. You still don’t hurt.

You move your hands from your mouth, biting your lip to silence yourself as you wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him again. It’s sloppy and messy, just like the sex you’re having but you couldn’t care less.

He moves you to his bed. It creaks a little bit but Ghost can’t find it in himself to care at this moment in time. Your thighs shake as he ravages you. He keeps a bruising pace, not letting up or relenting in any way. He needs you to feel every part of him. He needs to be overbearing, almost to the brink of too much but not crossing it.

You clutch the sheets hard, he tugs his shirt off finally. Taking a deep breath. His hair is damp from sweat, beads of it settle on his face. Drips slide down the strands of his hair. Falling to land on your chest, his hair was a little overgrown for his liking but he hadn’t gotten the chance to cut it just yet. The wetness is what brings you down to earth to raise his chin, making him look you in the eyes. That pressure is building and there’s no going back now. You hold his eye contact, hearing his breathing start to get more jagged and out of control. He was right there, and so were you.

You cum first, eyes screwing shut and he clamps a hand over your mouth, hips still moving into yours as he chases after his own high. When he cums, he can’t hold back the groan. Eyes rolling back as he fills you. Shaking as he experiences the most intense orgasm he’s ever had by far, barely being able to ride it out from being so sensitive. He flinches as you throb around him, it’s almost too much. “F-fuck” he hisses, collapsing on top of you. Resting his head on your chest. “Shit..” he mumbles.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes. His hair is wet and it’s cold all of a sudden.

“For what?” He raises his head to look at you. “I.. I shouldn’t have pushed you like this. And I shouldn’t have..” he hesitates. “I should’ve pulled out.”

“It’s okay. I’ll take care of it, don’t worry about it.” You take in a deep breath. “You didn’t push me. I came to you.” You breathe. “I’m glad you did. Stay.” He mumbles. Seeing the edge of your lips turn up in a smile. “Okay.”

You end up staying there until morning when you sneak off to your own room. Nobody knows what happened, and you want it to stay that way for now.

You’re not sure what this is. What these new feelings for him are. Of course they’re intimidating. But you don’t let them scare you. It’s the start of something new, and bonding with someone who understands your trauma and knows how to help you.

You can help each other.

[serendipitous-girl]

𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲

⊱✿⊰ summary: you weren't the same afterwards, they've all noticed

⊱✿⊰ warnings: trauma, angst, past kidnapping, past assault, cult sacrifice, ptsd, depression, panic attacks. My daydream/lore is more angsty than this and also might be some sal x reader undertones since that is my daydream

⊱✿⊰ notes: so i have this like plot idea thing for sally face that i use for daydreams. This is entirely self indulgent and half of you guys might not understand it. But to sum it up: reader was going to be a sacrifice to the cult however was saved. Yeah

⊱✿⊰ taglist: @fashionablysouly @kozumesphone @lotus-sunn

It's been two weeks since you got away. You returned to school like normal, acting like your heart wasn't trapped within a cage.

Your parents didn't mention what happened; they didn't even know. They assumed you stayed at Larry's for a few days and never bothered to check to make sure. You sighed as you brushed your hair, untangling the knots like you wished you could to your brain.

Finally, you walked out of your apartment silently. Your skin felt like it was safety pinned together, like it was a plastic bag barely holding onto the bones and organs inside. Was this a body you were in? Or was it just a sack of flesh, deteriorating until you were nothing but rotting and vile?

You spotted Sal almost immediately, the combination of his prosthetic mask and bright blue hair made him easy to identify. He waved at you and came closer, casual behavior for him.

Yet your mind was stuck back there, when he found you crumpled on the floor your white gown soaked in blood. You weren't sure how he could bear to look at you, look at you and not think about how monstrous you felt. (Was it cruel to believe yourself monstrous when surely Sal has it worse?)

A cold hand rested on your shoulder, jumpstarting your heart and make your blood rush. It was like when they touched you, grabbed your arms and shoved you in the car as though to say good riddance. But it was Sal, it was your angel, your hero. He wouldn't hurt you, he wouldn't hurt you, he wouldn't-

"Hey? [Name], you okay?" Sal asked, tilting his head slightly to show his confusion. You blinked a few times, remembering your surroundings. Your brain and soul was in that room with those men, but your body was here and safe. Then how come you felt nowhere near safe in your body?

"I'm fine," You replied slowly, pulling away from his touch. Your lungs were filled with smoke, collapsing in on itself like a building on fire. You just needed to get away, forget about school just get away and get some air. Out of Addison apartments, out into the woods away from the cult away from the school away from it all.

"Hey, hey, stay with me. Come on, let's get some fresh air." Sal suddenly said, appearing in front of you and leading you out of the building. Noticeably he didn't touch you, he made sure to not make your skin feel anymore fake than it already did.

He sat down on a fallen tree, patting it for you to sit beside him. It poked you uncomfortably, sticks and bugs and whatnot hurting your backside but it was a fine way to stay active. Feeling pain meant you were alive, you were alive and safe.

"Can I hold your hand?" Sal asked, giving you enough space in case you said no. Shakily you nodded, surprisingly feeling relieved when his cold palm brushes against your own.

He slowly brought your hand to his chest, letting you feel as he takes deep breaths. You tried copying his breathing, in and out, in and out. Eventually your brain stopped fizzing like an exploded soda and you felt semi human once again.

"Thanks, Sal." You mumbled, looking away with an ashamed face. He shouldn't have to deal with you and whatever the hell that was just now. He still hadn't let go of your hand which was surprisingly nice.

"Its okay to not be okay." Sal replied, making your eyes snap back to his. He was staring directly at you, blue eye boring into your brain (it made you wonder if he could read every thought racing through your mind.) "You went through something...nobody can possibly imagine. I would be more concerned if you were perfectly fine."

"I want to be okay, though. I don't want to be trapped back there." You replied softly, acting like this was a confession of sin. You never mention what happened with your friends; let alone explain what had happened before they saved you.

"I saved you once and I'll save you again." Sal said, squeezing your hand gently, "I promise you, [Name], I will stop at nothing to make you happy again."

You smiled even though it hurt, feeling the tiniest bit of hope form in your heart. If anyone could save you, you were grateful it was Sal to do it. Right now living felt like torture but you would go through torture to stay with Sal.

[majesty-madness]

Within the Cover of Night - Arthur Morgan x reader (sfw)

Summary: At first, she thinks it’s nothing but her imagination; that because of the life she lives, she’s letting her paranoia get the better of her. And then she’s snatched up in the dead of night by a pair of unfamiliar hands. 

Word Count: 3600+

Warnings: established relationship between Arthur and Y/N, horror themes, kidnapping, stalking, violence, blood, injury, cursing, pissed off Arthur, crying, attempted rape, mentions of sexual assault, panic attack, attempted murder, serial killer, hostage situation, brief escape, comfort 

a/n: Not proofread. Hardly anything happens in this part, the next part will be much more intense.

Main Masterlist

HOUR TWO

HOUR ONE

For a while now, she had been meaning to ride out into Strawberry but the camp has been a little too hectic as of late with the whole moving again thing. 

They had just gotten settled at Clemens Point, one of the more muggy spots but still beautiful nonetheless. 

With things quiet, Y/N felt she finally had an opportunity to venture a bit so that afternoon, she packed up her horse and headed right out. 

Thankfully it was a clear day out, not a cloud in sight coupled with a light breeze. These were the days she admired most, nothing crazy just a nice warm day and a cool wind blowing through her hair. 

It’s what made her love this country. 

Around twenty minutes passed, when Y/N could see the edge of Strawberry in the distance, maybe about a couple hundred yards, before a voice yelled out. 

“Help me, please!” 

Her head jerked to the side of the road, seeing a distressed man looking up at her and waving his arms about. “Oh please Miss, help me.”

“What’s the problem?” She immediately asked following his plea. 

He sighed drearily. “My horse got scared by a snake and threw me right off! I tried to catch myself but I hurt my leg in the tumble. If you could give me a ride back to town, I would be very grateful.”

Y/N outwardly cringed, not sure she was willing to do what he asked. “I don’t know, sir…”

“Please Miss! I’m staying in a small hotel just in Strawberry. It shouldn’t be that far from here…” He desperately explained, planting both hands together in what looked like prayer. 

Y/N looked back up toward the road, eyeing the distance it would take to travel into the town. Truthfully, it shouldn’t take any more than ten minutes on horseback. 

Loudly, she sighed and shook her head. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to take you back to town.” 

“Thank you so very much, miss. I really appreciate this!” The man gleefully exclaimed as he scrambled on the back of Y/N’s horse. 

Once the man had got on back, Y/N noticed her horse beginning to act fidgety, jerking her head back and forth while occasionally pawing at the ground. She had thought that was odd but Y/N continued with tugging on the reins and leading her down the dirt path. 

As soon as Y/N’s horse, Maple, began a steady sprint the man spoke. “I’m lucky you came by when you did, Miss or else I might’ve been stranded with a twisted leg.”

“I’m sure somebody would have come by eventually.” 

The man laughed out loud, almost too loudly. “Maybe, but regardless, I'm still glad you stopped. I do apologize though, I have a terrible sense of direction so who knows how long I might’ve been lost.” 

Already Y/N could see the front gate leading into Strawberry at the end of the road. “I guess you do; Strawberrys’ just down the road here.” 

The man’s grip on her shoulders tightened the slightest bit. “My ma always said to stick to the path cause I was always gettin’ confused. I’ll never learn, I suppose.”

Y/N said nothing, instead took note of his slowly tightening grip on her. It wasn’t becoming obvious per say, she happened to feel the difference in pressure. 

“Lay off a little there, sir.” Y/N thought to herself, keeping her eyes focused on the road forward.

If this man kept persisting in his hold on her, she may say something about it but as soon as the thought entered her mind he hadn’t made another move to tighten his grip. 

Perhaps he was scared of falling off the horse. 

“Those were good times though, riding down the trail with my ma. I’ll tell ya, she knew her sense of direction.” The man continued to babble on and on. 

“Is that right?” Y/N replied nonchalantly, pretending to be engaged in what he was saying. 

“Oh yes, Miss. She was the one that taught me everythin’ I know.” 

Then Y/N’s horse passed the gate to Strawberry, heading right to the center of town. The man kept talking, like he didn’t know how to stop. 

“It was always just ma and me; the thing I remember most about her was how pretty she was.” 

Y/N hummed, finally stopping next to the hotel only a few feet away. 

However, the man didn’t make an immediate attempt to hop off or make any kind of gesture that he was getting down. Suddenly he leaned forward, lips nearly touching the shell of Y/N’s ear and whispered to her.

“But I think you are the prettiest thing I ever did see.” 

The sound of his lowered voice sent chills up her spine, a cold sweat to form on her forehead. Every nerve in her body stopped functioning altogether and all she could do was sit there. 

Before she could push him off her, he quickly jumped down and waved her goodbye. “Farewell, Miss. I know we’ll be seein’ each other again.” 

When Y/N flicked her eyes up to meet the man’s, she no longer saw a helpless person with a piss poor sense of direction, now she saw a physically able man who knew exactly what he was doing. 

If that smirk on his face wasn’t any indication. 

Y/N felt a spell of fear wash over her as she watched him sturt away, leg working perfectly. 

Fighting back the disgust settling in her stomach, Y/N jerked the reins towards the town entrance. Her instinct to hurry and gallop right out of there, but another part of her mind reasoned that since she rode all the way out here, she should at least check out what she wanted.

She reasoned however, if things got wary then she had her gun with her. Nothing a well-aimed bullet couldn’t fix, specifically a possible pervert who didn’t know how to keep his hands to himself.

Y/N made sure to go a bit of an obscure way to the local shop, going around the back of the wooden buildings, keeping her horse close to the exits. 

Surprisingly, for a small town shop, it looked very extravagant inside in a rustic kind of way. The floor and walls were shiny with polish, lanterns lining the expansion of the building, colorful woven rugs covering parts of the floor, framed windows paired with lacy curtains and small aisles of different kinds of items neatly placed on every shelf. There was even a corner of the room where people could sit and enjoy the company of a fireplace. 

It was real nice. It almost made Y/N forget what had happened only minutes ago. 

As she browsed the kinds of products the store had, she caught sight of a luster shelled ink pen. 

She’d heard about these; the new kind of pens where you didn’t need to dip into ink, instead they had their own ink inside the pen itself. She wasn’t quite sure how they managed that but it intrigued her. 

Looking at the unique design on the outside of the writing utensil, her thoughts drifted to Arthur. 

Maybe he’d like something like that. 

So without contemplating it for too long, Y/N bought the pen and headed right out. 

As she approached the back exit of the building she suddenly remembered why she had entered from the back in the first place when the familiar rush of adrenaline coursed through her veins. Her hand had raised to grab the doorknob, but froze for a second while she thought on all the possibilities that could happen as soon as she stepped out. 

Y/N raised her other hand to the revolver in her holster as she poked her head outside. She looked to the left then the right to discover nothing there. Not even a stray animal. 

Once that reality sunk in, she relaxed her arms to her sides and headed back to her horse hitch a  few feet away. 

At first, things seemed fine on the way back to camp, however the longer she rode, the more unnerved she felt. 

Even as she came upon the trail that led to camp, there was something wrong. Her horse had been fussing about the entire ride back, making more noises than normal, fidgeting, acting anxious and that told Y/N things weren’t right. 

Her horse was not easily frightened, but whatever was happening was really bothering her; enough to make her move about like a scared child. 

Before she stepped fully onto the trail, Y/N forced the animal to a stop and turned her a bit. Her eyes stared into the treeline in which she could barely see five feet into. 

She hadn’t realized she’d done it, but Y/N had slowed her breathing down, hearing only the silence of the forest. 

Her gaze bounced around the patches of grass, bushes, tree branches, and such seeing nothing yet suspecting malevolence lurking in the approaching darkness. 

One second…two seconds…three seconds….four…five…

She began to sweat fiercely. 

Six…seven …eight…

The pounding of her heart reached her ears like thunder in the sky, rushing over her whole being.

Nine…

She wanted to look away, but didn’t want to at the same time; feeling if she looked anywhere else she’d be doomed. 

Ten.

Y/N tugged hard again on the reins and forced her horse to take off in a mad dash for camp, away from the deep forest. 

Though Y/N wasn’t the one running for her life, she panted out with a heavy breath nonetheless. The hypothetical chance of someone following her causing her fight or flight response to kick in. 

It was by no means logical as she had no way to prove that there had been anyone beyond the treeline as her subconscious seemed to believe, although the sensations that surfaced were no less scary. 

In those short seconds, her brain came to a conclusion and didn’t like what it saw. 

But what did she see? What did her sixth sense pick up on that she just couldn't understand? 

What. Was. Wrong?

As soon as her horse made it into the camp, she slid off the animal before she’d come to a full stop and stared off into the distance behind them both.

Her eyes trailed over the path she took, and waited for something to happen. But after all that, nothing did happen and as far as she knew nothing was going to happen. All she could hear were the voices of her fellow camp mates and the occasional animal calls. 

She blinked a few times before shaking her head and walking off towards the center of camp. Y/N hadn’t realized it but her brain sent her straight to Arthur’s tent where he sat on his cot, jotting down something in his journal. 

He immediately heard her steps making a b-line for him, and the moment he noticed it was Y/N he smiled but it quickly faded when he saw the expression on her face. “Darlin’?”

She wasted no time in plopping herself onto his lap and curling into his chest, face tucked to his neck. 

The sudden display of seeming affection nearly caused Arthur to drop his journal onto the ground, so he quickly tossed it to his cot. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” 

She quickly wrapped her arms around his neck to pull herself even closer to him, making Arthur let out a slight grunt as she held onto him tightly. 

Instead of trying to further prod her into speaking, Arthur chose to settle his hands on the small of her back to keep her steady against him. And he continued to hold her for several minutes, feeling her muscles relax as time went on. 

“Did something happen?” He whispered between the two of them. 

Y/N took a deep breath before finally lifting her head to gaze up at him, eyes shining with tears. “Sort of.” 

“What do you mean?” 

She shrugged, finding it difficult to find the words because now that she knew she was safe with Arthur she felt a little silly for reacting like this. “I..was on my way to Strawberry earlier today, because I heard they had these new steel pens, and on my way there, this man came along shouting that he needed help.” 

Arthur began softly rubbing his thumb on a non-specific spot on her back as she spoke to quell the worries that plagued her. 

“Said he fell off his horse and hurt his leg, asked if I could give him a ride back to town. At first I wasn’t too keen on the idea but I felt guilty if I just left him stranded, so I let him hop on the back of Maple. I didn’t think much of it, but Maple started acting funny.” Y/N mentioned, lips pulling together in a frown. 

“How do ya mean, what’d she do?” Arthur asked in the silence between them as Y/N paused. 

Y/N let out a little huff, dipping herself further into him. “She was fussing about, making noises, pawing at the ground, stuff like that. Most things don’t bother her and since the man didn’t look all that threatening I thought maybe she was tired.” 

Arthur quietly nodded, waiting for her to continue with her story. “He kept going on about how he had no sense of direction and that his mother taught him everything he knew and for some reason, he mentioned how pretty she was. Said, it was what he remembered about her the most.”

“Then what?”

He could see the unease swimming in her eyes just by looking as she recounted what happened only a few hours ago. 

“Then he leaned in real close, and whispered into my ear: ‘I think you are the prettiest thing I ever did see.’” 

Immediately, Arthur’s stomach dropped while suppressing a cold shiver from crawling up his spine at the implication behind those words. 

Even though he hadn’t witnessed it, he couldn’t help the disgust rippling through him. Far too many times had he heard of the awful things done to women in saloons or back alleys where no one paid attention; far too many times he had seen the attempts men made at them when they thought there was no one around. The gunslinger in him would flourish with a rage at the idea of a man harassing some poor woman minding her own business, and promptly beat them within an inch of their lives for the simple fact that it was exactly what they deserved. And that was for women he didn’t know, now imagine what he’d do for the woman he loved, the woman he secretly promised his life to. 

God help any man who threatens her. 

“Did he do anythin’ else to you?”

Y/N quickly shook her head, leaning back into him again. “No, he just hopped off and walked away like nothin’ happened. And when he was walking away I noticed that his leg was working perfectly fine so he wasn’t even hurt to begin with.” 

Arthur let out a contemplative sigh, hands moving once more to create invisible in her skin. “I’m sorry, darling. There are some real bastards out there.” 

All Y/N did was nod, choosing then to sit quietly on Arthur’s lap, not uttering anymore words for a while. They spent several moments basking in each other’s presence as each ruminated on their thoughts. 

“Would it be alright if I sleep in your tent tonight?” Y/N asked promptly. 

Before Arthur said anything, she continued. “I know that it’s a bit sudden and we’ve never slept in a cot together but I really don’t want to be alone. And you make me feel safe.” 

His heart thumped with affection, giving her back a few pats and pressing a kiss to her hair. “I appreciate that, darling and of course, you can stay with me. I wouldn’t mind at all.”

“Thank you.” 

Arthur rocked her back and forth a few times when he spoke again. “Though, I can’t promise you’ll get a good night’s rest sleeping next to a big ol’ idiot like me.”

“Don’t you go saying nothing like that. It’s not true.”Y/N pouted, sticking her arm out to point him in the side where she knew he was sensitive and based on the way he tensed under her hand, she knew she got him good.

“Ah-alright, darling, I won’t go saying anything like that.” 

She poked him one more time causing him to reach down to quickly stop her, glancing down to see her bottom lip jutted out like a child’s. “You better not.”

With that, the rest of the evening carried on as normal with the exception of Y/N sleeping next to Arthur that night. Well, more like on top of him considering how small his cot truly was, but she didn’t mind in fact, Y/N liked that they got to be so close in such a vulnerable position. It was also thanks to the unexpected development that she managed to wake up the next morning with a calmness. 

And when Dutch had come to her once she was awake and walking around about a possible job, she didn’t feel the least bit worried. However when Arthur stated he was tagging along, she didn’t try to dispute it instead was thankful for his presence. 

On the ride to the nearest town, they chatted about this and that, the worry that plagued her long forgotten even as night fell and came the final decision for the night. 

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” 

Y/N nodded. “Yeah I’m sure, I’m feeling better today so I think I’ll be alright sleeping in my tent tonight.”

Arthur nodded silently to himself for a few seconds. “Alright then, but if you change your mind you’ll know where to find me.”

Promptly after, Arthur returned to his own tent for the night leaving Y/N to her’s. She stayed up for quite a while almost until the campfire outside had dwindled to small flickers of light and everyone else was asleep. This was a normal occurrence as she was a bit of a night owl but eventually she too became drowsy and without hesitation, laid out across her bed roll. 

Her eyes drifted to the ceiling of the canvas house, thinking on the events of the day where nothing particularly interesting happened and then, she fell asleep. 

________

A harsh pressure being pressed tightly against her neck is what woke her from her slumber. Her eyes quickly popped open, scrambling to fight off whatever was choking her in the dead of night. 

But the grip was too strong, no matter how hard she tried to peel away what she figured was someone’s arm, she couldn’t loosen the hold. 

Who was this person? What did they want? 

The darkness slowly started to creep in on her vision as she began to feel light headed and just before she passed out, she heard a familiar voice.

“You really are the prettiest thing.”

Off in the distance, Charles stood on night duty. These shifts were never entertaining but he supposed that was a good thing especially when you run with a gang of outlaws; himself included. 

Charles walked back up the path a bit, towards camp just to see if anything was amiss. He hadn’t noticed anything in the forest surrounding the camp, however when his eyes drifted over to the horses, it piqued his curiosity. 

Most of them seemed…antsy, like something spooked them. 

Already alarm bells were going off in his mind so he grabbed a lantern from the center of camp and began to walk along the numerous tents creating a semi circle around one firepit. He made his rounds first over to Lenny’s tent, seeing he was fine then to Abigail and Jack’s, then to Sean’s and up until he reached Y/N’s which sat between Sean and the other girl’s tent. 

He wasn’t sure what made him stop but his instincts screamed at him to take a closer look, something was off. 

Silently, Charles apologized to Y/N for the ill manners of barging in and pulled back the front flap of the tent only to see Y/N missing and the entire backside canvas cut completely in half. He stepped inside of the tent, hurrying out the back to discover drag marks and footprints that were far too big to be Y/N’s. 

Immediately he understood. 

Charles ran out of the tent out into the middle of camp, shouting for everyone to get up while making a b-line to Arthur. From the shouting, Arthur had already begun to stir. 

“Arthur, Y/N’s gone.” Charles stated matter of factly. 

The words went in one ear and out the other. Arthur, for a moment, thought he wasn’t even speaking english. “What?”

“Y/N’s gone, she’s not in her tent. Someone ripped open the back, and now she’s gone.” Charles explained with a sense of urgency. 

Now Arthur was awake, and as soon as the words settled in, he thought back to what Y/N had said the day before. 

“He kept going on about how he had no sense of direction and that his mother taught him everything he knew and for some reason, he mentioned how pretty she was.”

Arthur jumped up from his cot, running back to where Y/N’s tent lay now undisturbed, and nearly toppled the whole thing over when he pushed his way inside. 

“Then he leaned in real close, and whispered into my ear: ‘I think you are the prettiest thing I ever did see.’” 

He saw what Charles was talking about, not only was the entire back wall of the canvas material cut in half, the items inside the tent had been thrashed around as if someone had put up a fight along with tracks in the dirt leading outside into the trees. 

Y/N had been taken.

________

a/n: ran out of time so I had to break this into two parts, sorry ya'll! I'll try to be better about this in the future.

[sapphicmsmarvel]

feysand: overstimulated

Rhys and Feyre use their daemati powers to help their partners head go quiet.

under the cut bc overstimulation and anxiety can be triggering to folks.

Sometimes thoughts are too loud. Kind of like you’re thinking in a yelling volume. Everything is loud and makes you want to pass out. You were overstimulated. It felt like your skin needed to be peeled off.

You went home from work early because you just could not handle it all anymore. You felt like you were about to have a panic attack simply from the onslaught of stimulus.

Luckily, the fresh air on the walk home helped you ground yourself. But you still felt like your blood cells had electricity zapping through them.

You had just gotten home when Feyre greeted you,

“Hello, my love.” She put down the vase of flowers she was holding and kissed you on the cheek.

“Hi.” You said quietly, wincing.

“What’s wrong?” She immediately looked at you as if you were about to drop dead.

And like a signal was sent out, Rhysand immediately came into the room as well. Feyre walked behind you and began rubbing your shoulder.

“My head hurts. I’m overstimulated. Everything is too loud. Even if nothing is loud outside of my head it’s all loud inside.”

“Let me see.” Rhys cupped your head. His hands cupped your cheeks so his pointer fingers rested behind your ears and his thumbs sat on your cheekbones.

“Can I use my powers to see if I can silence it?” Rhys asked you softly. So his voice didn’t make your head hurt.

“I trust you.” Was all you needed to say.

Feyre moved to rubbing your hips and pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

Then everything went quiet. You let out a sigh, head falling back and eyes closed. Your head fell back against Feyre’s own. She pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Better?” She whispered. Her voice caresses you like a feather.

“Orgasmic.” You said so earnestingly. Your face now void of any tension. Pure relaxation and relief.

It made Rhys’ heart soar. Knowing these scary powers can make you feel good. Knowing you just put so much trust in him. Opening your mind to let someone who everyone in Prythian is terrified of.

His hands shook on your face from the sheer emotion.

Then your eyes popped open, “is this draining you?” Your eyes were wide with concern. For his well being over your own.

“No,” he shook his head. Tears threatening to go onto his waterline. “No, my love. Everything is fine.”

You smiled softly. “Can I go to bed?”

“You don’t have to ask.” He lightly laughed. It was still daytime. A little bit before dinner. But you always were a night owl and enjoyed eating dinner later in the night.

So you three decided to take a late-day nap. Did he need to keep a point of contact on you up the stairs to keep his powers working? No. But he did. He just really did not want to be away from you physically.

Feyre smiled all knowingly as he guided you up the stairs. The staircase was wide enough that you two could walk side by side and he got to keep his hand on your face.

You climbed into bed. You had thrown your pants off and stolen Rhys’ t shirt from the night before. You climbed into bed and Feyre was at your back while Rhys was at your front.

Slowly, you began to fall asleep. Now that you didn’t feel any tension in your head and you were able to fully relax. All the tension was gone in your body as you drifted.

Rhys couldn’t take his eyes off your sleeping face.

“I love you so much.” He whispered and kissed your forehead. Then leaned over you to kiss Feyre.

“And I love you so much.”

“We love you too, Rhys.” She whispered, her lips brushing his.

“You two are too good to me.”

“Shush. Go to sleep love, we will be here when you wake.” She whispered.

So he did eventually drift off. He stayed awake long enough for Feyre to fall into her own dreamland.

He didn’t care if he had to stretch his arms to wrap the both of you in them. He would cast a spell to make his arms longer just to hold you two.

It’s crazy, how his whole world fits into his arms.

[sunflowerwinds]

maroon [h.c]

summary: hazel’s fight with tucker made you realize how much she means to you. caretaking and ass-kicking ensues.

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

contains: mature language, violence and blood, reader has a slight panic attack, attentive and kind! reader, making out (for the distraction of course) mutual pining, sweet and fluffy, hurt/comfort (my weakness), women being bad-asses.

word count: 3.5K

a/n: this is both a request and won a poll. that scene still makes me wince to this day. and yes, the title is a taylor swift song. the lyrics, though, have nothing to do with the actual oneshot. i love you all and enjoy <33

You had told Hazel that agreeing to this would be a bad idea. After Tim had approached Hazel with the chance to humiliate PJ and Josie in front of the entire school at the pep rally before the big game, you got a bad vibe from it.

The sound of Tucker’s foot kicking Hazel’s eye echoed ferociously in your head.

It all happened so quickly, you could barely process seeing Hazel’s limp body on the ground. The sight made your stomach turn as you shot up from your seat in the bleachers to check up on Hazel. You glared in the direction of Tim and Jeff and that fucking psychopath Tucker— who you were pretty sure was a thirty year old man.

Everything had already been so tense in the group after PJ had humiliated Hazel in front of everyone. Finding out that PJ and Josie had started the group to get with Isabel and Brittany was an eye-opener to what their true intentions were.

This crossed the fucking line.

You were running over to her still frame, trailing right behind Isabel. You kneeled down next to her ribs, a bit of her blood getting on your jeans but you really couldn't care less.

“Hazel,” you whisper her name, wincing at the sight of her bleeding eye.

No response.

Panic settled in you as Stella and Brittany began to lift her body. Your eyes watered as you covered your mouth at her now blood-stained collared shirt.

“Is that true?” You heard Isabel ask PJ and Josie who had also come down from the bleachers as the staff and the rest of the students dispersed. Her voice cracked at the end of her sentence. “That’s why you started this?”

You whipped your head to the two girls, eyes flaring with anger and hurt for Hazel.

Josie immediately began to protest.

“N-no, not entirely—“

“Not entire—Okay.” PJ cut her off loudly. “Listen guys. It doesn’t matter…the reason that we started this.”

You felt your skin itch with fury as you watched them drag Hazel’s body out of the gymnasium. You couldn't even listen to whatever bullshit excuse PJ had to say anymore. Sylvie began to walk away as did you and Isabel.

All you could focus on was if Hazel was okay.

The next few days, you didn’t leave Hazel’s side. You were at the hospital that same night at one in the morning with Mrs. Callahan in the waiting room and by her bedside when she came out of getting blood tests and prescribed medications. When the group would go over to her house and spend a few hours after school being attentive and showing support, you would stay the night tending to her wounds.

It was night three and the swelling had just begun to deflate, her eye revealing itself just a bit. Mrs. Callahan had been really understanding about you spending the nights as much as you knew you were intruding. She had pulled you aside after the second night to tell you how much she appreciated you and everyone else staying by her side.

Especially you — for a reason she didn’t disclose to.

You were crouched down next to Hazel’s bed, helping her with the eye drops that were prescribed by the doctor. Hazel was wearing one of her grandpa sweaters and a pair of sweatpants. Splotches of red, purple and yellow covered her entire face.

“Hold on, Haze.” You leaned in a little closer to her face to focus on the little opening of her eye.

Hazel had been fidgeting the entire night and you had no idea what had made her this way. She muttered an apology before sucking in a deep breath. You were gently cupping the unswollen side to give you leverage.

You pretended not to notice her untouched eye flicker to your dry lips.

“Are you okay?” Hazel asked as you held the dropper right above the swollen skin.

You merely hummed in response as you were focused on her eye. Hazel waited until you put the instructed amount into the dry eye, making sure they all got in. You couldn’t risk her getting infection.

“Are you sure?” She pressed again.

You set the dropper down onto the tray full of doctor prescribed pills and remedies for her abrasions. Your brows furrowed as you held an expression of disbelief.

“Haze, I— why are you asking me if I’m okay when you got the shit beat out of you?” You emphasized, chuckling in disbelief.

“I know but—“

“Seriously. If it wasn’t for this fucking club, this wouldn’t have happened to you, Haze.” You expressed with more irritation laced in your tone.

You admit that you haven’t been getting the most sleep since the event; maybe three or four hours at best. Your mind was clouded with worry for Hazel’s well being.

What if Tucker gave her a concussion that would damage her brain forever? What if she went into a coma? What if she dies in her sleep?

Okay, and you also tended to overthink.

“Hey,” Hazel’s tone was gentle with a hint of stern attitude.

You hadn't realized that hot tears were leaving your tired eyes. You had been so busy taking care of Hazel that you hadn’t fully processed what had happened to her. Not a single tear had left your face until now.

“He could’ve really hurt you, Haze.” You whisper, raising your hand to wipe away the tears from your hot cheek.

Hazel remained silent as she knew deep down that Tucker could’ve done a lot more damage than she had received. She just didn't think that you cared this much about her; let alone cry for her pain. She noticed your chest rising and falling faster than she’s ever seen in her entire life. Your bottom lip quivered as you attempted to hold back the burning tears that were threatening to leave your eyes.

“I know but I’m doing okay. You’ve helped a lot, okay? More than I could ever ask for.” Hazel reached for your shaking hand, taking it gingerly into her grasp.

You nod, not trusting yourself to talk as your throat ached from how much you were resisting to let yourself cry. Hazel sat up slowly, her back aching and cracking from being inactive all day.

“Hazel, the doctor said to refrain from sitting upright.” You begin to scold her but she waves her hand at you.

“I’m okay. I-I’m fine.” Hazel shut her eyes, letting out a grunt as she adjusted her body so that she was leaning up against her bed frame.

You reach forward to push her falling strands out of her face, frowning at her wincing.

“Has PJ or Josie—“

“No.” You remark, refraining from rolling your eyes. You already knew where that question was going and still had a grudge against the two.

What hurt the most that you knew Hazel was going to forgive them; specifically PJ. You knew that they didn't hurt her directly but none of this would’ve ever happened if the club never existed. Then again, you never would’ve become friends without the club.

You would’ve still been just admiring her from afar as you passed through the halls.

“Why did you stay here?” Hazel hummed.

You suck in a deep breath as you continue the night routine as normal. You grabbed the tube of ointment and began to apply it to the slit on her high cheekbones.

“I didn't like the thought of you being alone during this.” You admit, hoping it didn't sound so smitten. “I am your friend, you know? I care about you.”

Hazel’s eyes followed the natural arch of your eyebrows and slope of your nose as you spoke. You knew you looked tired but it was truly the least of your worries.

“I know. Now, at least.” Hazel replied, her gaze finally locking on your lips.

“You didn't think I cared?” The dip between your brows depended on her confession.

“It’s nothing against you. I never really had good friends before. It’s nice to not have shitty friends for a change.” Hazel shrugs her shoulders, fiddling with a loose string on her pants.

“You deserve good friends, Haze. You deserve so much.” You express, your voice keeps a gentle yet passionate volume.

The thought of Hazel getting mistreated all her life made your chest ache. Her eyes were darting all over your features as you pulled your hand away from her aching face.

“Well, thank you for all of this.” Hazel replied, not knowing how to take all of your kind words.

You breathe out: “Yeah, of course, Haze.”

You almost missed how she began to lean into your body. You cleared your throat as a tension fell over you guys. You stood up from the bed, brushing your messy hair out of your face.

“I’ll head to bed now. Goodnight, Hazel.” You nod, turning your back to her as you couldn't have her see you so bothered by the fact that she had leaned into you.

You didn't want to have high hopes but they were there. Way, way, up there. Fucking cloud nine up there.

But it wasn’t right. Not yet.

The Huntington versus Rockridge game arrived faster than you could comprehend. You were wedged between Annie and Hazel, waiting patiently for the game to start.

Her eye swelling had completely gone down at that point to where she just had deep brushing all over her pale features. You were happy to see her darling blue eyes once again. Mrs. Callahan insisted that you two come to the game. You were reluctant but maybe it could be something better to do other than sulk around and be annoyed at Josie and PJ.

As the announcer began to cheer on the Vikings, you noticed Josie and PJ walking up the bleachers, stopping right in front of Hazel. Your eyes rolled as you waited to see what they were going to say.

“Okay, first off, PJ has something to say to Hazel, so…” Josie starts, panting through her words.

You stare at PJ along with Sylvie, Annie and Hazel. Her jaw drops, not knowing what to say exactly.

“The apology. Do the apology. Do the apology we said.” Josie muttered to her in a rushed tone.

“Okay! I’m sorry that I called your mom a skank.” PJ exclaimed.

When Hazel merely sighed and avoided her gaze, PJ continued. “And I’m sorry for saying that you have no friends really loud in front of all of your friends.”

Hazel looked down, glancing over at you as PJ could tell she still wasn’t satisfied with her apology.

“And I’m sorry for being an asshole a lot of the time.”

You and Annie give her ‘really?’ looks when she says a lot of the time.

“Most of the— All of the time!” She finalizes.

Josie hums in agreement with her best friend.

“And I do think that it's nice you always have notes and then you type them up and email them to everyone…” Hazel rolls her eyes with an attitude because she knows that they’re helpful. You’ve told her this a million times before. “And I really appreciate it.”

Hazel stares at her blankly for a moment, trying to process what she was going to say.

“Do you forgive me?”

Hazel’s smile creeps onto her lips as she nods with a soft ‘yes’. You send PJ a forced grin before paying attention to whatever Josie was talking about. Something about the Huntington players targeting a single player on the Rockridge team and how you all needed some sort of distraction to save the players.

“Oh, now you want a bomb?” Hazel smirks at the opportunity to blow shit up.

You would be lying to yourself if you said your bruised features didn't make her more attractive to you. You had followed Hazel and the group regardless of your feelings towards PJ as honestly, you didn't have anything better to do.

They still were your friends.

You and Hazel were crouched behind the tree across the yard as she had formulated some sort of bomb out of the blue. Where the hell did she even get this shit?

“Is it the red wire?” Hazel said out-loud, uncertainty laced in her voice. “Shit, or is it the yellow?”

You stare at her in shock.

“You don’t know?” You whisper-shouted at her.

“I-I get them mixed up. Fuck.” Hazel replied back in a panic.

Just then, you hear Annie shout from across the field that the game was about to start. Hazel glanced up at you as she hurriedly guessed which wires connected to one another and grabbed your hand in hers. You blushed as she tugged you along, sprinting across the field.

You did not wear the right bra for this.

The two of you jumped into the group's presence, your arm dripping over Hazel’s back as you all ducked from the expected explosion. After a few seconds of silence, you and Hazel looked up to the tree to see it was still intact.

“Hazel, it's not working.” Annie tapped her shoulder.

“Fuck. Fucking…” Hazel grabbed the remote, releasing your grasp to aim it at the explosive.

“Maybe try turning it on and off again?” You suggest as you stare at the metal antena.

Everyone was clamoring over Hazel to see what went wrong. You hear the crowd grow more and more in volume as the football team and cheerleaders begin to hip-thrust.

“Okay, Plan B, we get the cheerleaders to make out.” Annie stated as she got up and jogged over to the squad.

“What?” You ask in disbelief, trailing after her as did the rest of the group.

“Guys! Guys, kiss each other!” You shout over, making crude motions along with PJ, Annie and Sylvie.

Hazel had run up top to the bleachers, shouting at them to makeout from there. It was no use. Isabel and Brittany were still upset with PJ and Josie, ignoring their requests entirely. You groaned as you noticed the Huntington team begin to make their way onto the field.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you muttered before you feel someone shove your shoulder.

It was PJ.

“Go and make out with Hazel.” She instructed, jerking her head up to the bleachers.

“Wha—“

“Just go! Hurry!” PJ was now full on pushing you now, staring at Hazel who had seemed to give up on the cheerleaders.

You run as fast as your legs can take you, calling her name from the distance. You’ve never made out with someone before and this is how it was going to happen?

Fuck it.

Hazel turned to you, asking: “What do we do?”

You grabbed the side of her head, pulling her into a messy kiss. Her hands gripped onto your biceps through your navy sweater, trying to go along with your jagged movements. You could hear Annie telling everyone to ‘look!’ as the slobbery mess became a sensual kiss.

You inhale as you feel Hazel take the reins, gripping your face to show you how to control your jaw. Her tongue ever so slightly grazed your bottom lip, humming at the feeling.

Was she always this good of a kisser? Who the hell has she been hooking up with?

The makeout turned into soft gentle kisses, your smile growing as you pulled her in closer.

“Oh, wait. I’m gay!” You hear Stella-Rebecca say as you pull away with a sigh from Hazel’s experienced lips.

Hazel tugs you back in with a grip on your face, seeming to completely forget about why you were even making out in the first place. Her cold rings dug into your cheeks making you crave more and more of her.

Me fucking too, Stella.

The announcer calls the attention back to the game that people came for, causing you and Hazel to pull away with a soft smack. Her hand was at your waist now, both of you staring at the field of players. You pull away, letting out a nervous chuckle as you begin to walk back down to the track field surrounding the football one.

Hazel followed behind you, seeming to be out of it as much as you were. You had not been listening to a goddamn word PJ was saying as you thought about Hazel’s hands on your face and her tongue in your mouth.

How can you move on from this?

“They kissed on the mouth,” Sylvie stated cheekily, pointing at your flushed figures. “With tongue.”

“Okay, yeah. It was for the good of the school so if anyone is asking, we’ll do it again.” You quip back, trying not to make it seem like a big deal when all you wanted to do was have her back on you again.

Josie turned to you guys, suddenly realizing what Sylvie had said. “When did this happen?”

“There were no other distractions! The bomb didn't work.” You protested.

“They’re gonna spray the field.” Annie muttered.

You would’ve missed it if she didn’t repeat it in a much panicked and louder tone.

“We’re gonna have to run.”

“Fuck, more?” You complained as you ran beside Hazel, the insides of your thighs burning from how fast you were sprinting.

You had kicked one of the players away from Jeff, a flood of adrenaline running through you. Fuck, that felt good.

Josie had taken Jeff into her grasp, tugging him up and off of the grass. PJ had her hands over the sprinkler, ready for the pineapple juice to spray everywhere. You stare across the field at the group of Huntington players, eyes widening in a panic. Stella, Isabel, and Brittany joined by the group's side, too, staring down the rivals.

Were you really going to beat the fuck out of the rival football team with the girl you’ve been crushing on and just made out with? To save Jeff nonetheless?

The main player in the middle removed his helmet, staring the group down. He began to scream at the group which resulted in the group screaming back. You saw a large man run up to you, swinging his leg to your chest.

You dodge the force and grab his calf, twisting it clockwise to hear a loud crunch before grabbing onto his helmet guard and throwing him off of you. You feel a blow to your back to see another yellow jersey player, his helmet in hand.

“Fucking asshole!” You scream before throwing a kick to his crotch and throwing a punch to the middle of his face, blooding seeping onto your knuckles.

You don’t know exactly how so much blood got on you. It had all been one huge blur up until you saw Hazel getting punched in the stomach.

You ran over with a shout as you swung a hard punch into his cheek to throw him off guard. Hazel ended it with a kick to the ribs and another punch to the jaw before he fell to the ground.

Your entire body was aching and Hazel looked so weirdly attractive covered in blood.

“Are you okay?” Hazel asked as gently as ever as she grabbed onto your wrist, leading you to the rest of the group.

“Yeah,” you pant, feeling a burning sensation run up your spine. Definitely not. “I’m okay.”

You had blood splattered all over your blue jeans, running up the sleeve of your sweater with a few dots here and there on your face. There was a collective silence when everyone realized how much damage they had done.

You slowly turn toward the crowd of peers and adults, eyes wide with shock on what had just happened. The sprinklers suddenly turned on and Tim shouted to turn them off once he realized it was pineapple juice.

He slowly began to clap for you and the rest of the girls as the half-dead, half-unconscious Huntington players lay all around you. You let out an awkward chuckle, grabbing onto Hazel’s blood-lathered arm as you lean into her touch. You waved at everyone, snuggling into her maroon-stained shirt.

“So, that was…” You turn to her, not knowing what the fuck to even say about what had just went down.

“We’ll process it tomorrow.” She shakes her head, blood-stained face and all.

“Right, yeah.” You nod mindlessly, slowly blinking at her.

“Did you like the kiss—“

“Are we together now?”

Your question threw Hazel off guard, letting out a soft chuckle as she nervously scratched the back of her neck.

“I mean, I don’t personally just make-out with anyone.” You push out a gust of air, staring into her radiating blue eyes.

“Me neither.” Hazel rushes out, a shy smile on her lips. “So… yeah?”

You nod, laughing out a ‘yeah.’ You look around at the football field now stained with red from the bodies.

“To think, all it took was fucking up some football players for us to get together.” You grin cheekily.

“Oh, I think some of them are actually dead.” Hazel stated as you threw your arms around her neck, more of the blood spreading onto your sleeves.

“Well, the red makes your eyes pop. It’s kind of hot.” You half-joke which causes her to shake her head with a chuckle.

The forgotten tree then exploded, causing everyone to pause in their tracks. The excitement and cheers from the crowd came to a complete halt. You cover your mouth with one hand as the tree caught on fire. Hazel buries her head into your neck, groaning at her failed bomb attempt.

Hazel was right; you’ll process this tomorrow

taglist: @lovelyy-moonlight @imjustapearl @seethesin @matchamilkislover @beabeebrie @curiousshifter101 @uraesthete @fictionalcharacterspecialist @c4llahansgirl @maggiecc @fruitysnackysmain @crvptidgf <33

[whump-imagines]

Lightning and Panic

I swear I will write for other characters too... I'm just currently deep in Buck and Eddie brain rot.

Buddie x reader

Wc: 1300 ish

You pinched your arm, flinching at the sensation. There was no way this was real. This was your worst nightmare. You just needed to try harder and you were sure you would wake up.

Pinching the same spot once more, you realized that you were likely going to have a bruise soon.

Yet again, you were sitting in this awful waiting room. It felt like you had just been here waiting for news was after Eddie was shot.

Now, it was Buck.

It had been two days of waiting. Two days of worrying. Two days of desperately trying to convince yourself that he was going to be okay.

You knew they had a dangerous job. You thought you'd been prepared for that. You expected burns or maybe smoke inhalation. Not a sniper and a freak lightning strike.

Truthfully, you'd only prepared for minor injuries. Not near death experiences.

Suddenly, Eddie was kneeling in front of you. Why did he look so concerned? Something went wrong. Buck was gone.

He was talking. Why couldn't you hear him? Why are your ears ringing?

Eddie squeezed your hands almost too tight. He was trying to ground you. He took a slow exaggerated deep breath then finally, his words broke through your haze. “Breathe.”

It was then you finally realized you were barely wheezing air in and out and much too quickly. Your heart was racing. You gasped. “I-I–” more gasping. “C-c-can’t.”

Eddie moved your hands to his chest. “Yes, you can. Just follow me.” His fingers dug into the pulse point at your wrist as he took another slow beep breath and counted the pattern for you.

Tears rolled down your face as you desperately tried to calm down. You yanked your hands away from Eddie to pull at the collar of your shirt. It suddenly felt like it was strangling you.

Eddie turned toward Bobby and said something to him about a doctor. Had he whispered? Maybe. Your ears were also ringing more intensely again.

Now, you were grabbing at your chest. “H–hurts,” you panted out the word.

“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie soothed. “Just try to breathe.” He pulled your hands back down to your lap and once again pressed his fingers into your pulse point. You could see the worry in his eyes despite trying to stay calm for you.

You desperately tried to draw in more air but failed. Before long, black spots started to appear in front of your eyes. Then there was a doctor. He had to be there about Buck. You tried to back away, you couldn't handle any more bad news. “No.”

Eddie moved to the chair beside you and pulled you against his side. “It's okay, sweetheart. He's here to help you.” He pulled up your sleeve then nodded to the doctor.

There was something cold on your shoulder then a pinch and a burning sensation. You couldn't move away from it as Eddie had you held firmly in place.

Almost immediately, you felt calmer. You relaxed fully into Eddie and finally drew in a deep breath. A nurse you hadn't noticed placed an oxygen mask over your face.

You felt Eddie’s sigh of relief. “You're okay.” You weren't sure if he was talking to you or himself. “The doctor is going to run a few tests just to make sure that was a panic attack and nothing else, okay?”

You tried to snuggle further into him not wanting to leave his side. “‘m tired.”

“I know. Just relax. It's okay if you fall asleep,” Eddie soothed. He stood and lifted you into his arms bridal style. You dozed off with your head against his shoulder before he made it to the exam room.

When you opened your eyes, you were alone in a hospital room. As the grogginess started to lift, confusion set in. Why were you here? Why were you alone? There were no monitors or IV lines and aside for being tired, you felt okay.

Then the memory hit. Buck. You jerked upright. “Oh, no.” You would have stood to go find out how he was but you were suddenly dizzy. So instead, you pressed the nurse call button on the bed rail.

The dizziness mostly cleared and you were considering going to look for Eddie and check on Buck when the door swung open and a doctor entered. You vaguely remembered him from the waiting room earlier. “How’re you feeling?” he asked.

“How is Buck?” you asked, ignoring his question.

Before he could answer, Eddie came in and was by your side a moment later. “How are you?”

You huffed. “How’s Buck?”

Eddie smiled. “He's breathing on his own. He's getting better.”

Tears slid down your face as the relief washed over you. You finally felt like you could breathe again.

“Now, back to you,” Eddie redirected. “Are you feeling better?”

Shrugging one shoulder, you thought about it. “Honestly, I'm still tired. I was dizzy but that's passed. How long was I out?”

“Almost five hours,” said Eddie.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Holy crap. Wait, I thought I heard something about tests.”

“You did.” Eddie looked to the doctor to let him explain.

“We ran an EKG and blood tests because you were having some chest pain during your anxiety attack,” he explained. “Everything came back normal.”

“So then am I captive here or can I go see Buck?” you asked.

“You're free to leave,” the doctor said. Then he left the two of you alone.

“I'm sorry,” he started. “I should have been paying attention. I should have noticed you hadn't really slept or eaten. Or at least that you hadn't taken your meds.”

You just shook your head. “It's not your fault. We were both focused on Buck.”

“I still should have noticed.”

“You noticed when I was having an attack and got me help. That's all that matters.”

He just nodded, not seeming convinced.

“Can we go sit with Buck?” you asked.

“Maddie and their parents are in with him right now,” Eddie started. “How about we just go look through the window so you can see he's okay and then we go home so you can get some more rest?”

“I don't want to leave him. What if something happens?” You felt yourself spiraling. “What if something happens and– and we're not here?”

Eddie took your face between his hands and forced you to look at him. “Breathe.” He demonstrated a deep, calming breath for you. “He is stable. They don't expect anything to change overnight. And even if it did, we're not that far away. Okay?”

You took a few deep breaths. “Mmkay.”

“Besides, you know Buck would want you to rest and take care of yourself rather than sit around here.”

“Ugh. Fine,” you conceded. “Can we not tell him about my panic attack earlier?”

Eddie shook his head. “We can wait until he gets home. Unless he asks directly because I won't lie to him.”

You agreed and the two of you made your way towards the ICU. It really did help you to see him doing better. Leaning your head on Eddie’s shoulder, you were content to just stand I'm that hallway until Buck woke up but Eddie wouldn't go for that.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“No,” you told him truthfully. “But we can anyway.”

A week later, Buck was finally coming home. You were practically vibrating with excitement.

Walking into the house, you tried to lead Buck towards the bedroom but he stopped you and attempted to head toward the couch. “You need to be resting,” you scolded him.

“Are you going to rest?” he asked.

“Me?” You asked, confused. “I'm fine. I didn't die a few days ago.”

Buck frowned. “The doctors ran tests to make sure you weren't having a heart attack because you nearly passed out from a panic attack.”

You scowled at Eddie. “When did you tell him?”

Eddie just shrugged. “He asked while you were loading up the car. I told you I wasn't going to lie to him.”

You sighed. “Regardless, I'm fine.”

Eddie shoved you and Buck towards the bedroom. “I think we could all use some rest. Let's all go take a nap and then we can watch a movie and eat take out in bed.”

“Sounds amazing. Except, when do we need to pick up Christopher?” you asked.

“Carla is keeping him overnight so we can get Buck settled in,” Eddie explained.

Buck nodded. “I vote pizza.”

“Deal,” you and Eddie agreed in unison.

[angels-fantasy]

Girl let me just say your fics are superb and thanks for the quirkless child one I requested with Bakugou! I promise I’ll leave you be for a bit in a second, but… post final war; everyone who has came out alive clearly is suffering from injuries, health issues, and trauma (both physical trauma and mental trauma) no? So how about a Bakugou x Reader with a reader who was essentially Bubbly, Firery and Energetic, to after the war who is exhausted, is often having nightmares over Bakugou cause well he nearly died, sleep deprived and basically depressed because I can guarantee nobody should be sane after a war, especially not children like our lovely highschoolers. Please make it angst to comfort, because seeing how Bakugou also has developed I’m sure as sad as he would be he would also be understanding and try to be comforting (despite his awkwardness). I’d appreciate if you could get this done to be as close as possible (and maybe just a little long than the one I requested last time- no pressure) BUT if anything you find in my request may be too triggering or something feel free to make it less triggering and change it, I just ask if you can keep the same vibe and theme with the reader who changed drastically after the wars and is getting comforted by Bakugou, Angst to comfort (duh), thank you so much, and I hope I’m not troubling you too much! — An anon who enjoys suffering, angst, and comfort ((SAC) Anon); (get it? Suffering, Angst, Comfort, SAC, wait that has a good ring to it, damn I have a new alias, I’ll shut up now)

I'm Okay, As Long as He's Here (Request)

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Details/Warnings: reader has a panic attack and nightmares!! pls be weary of this. angst to fluff, well, my attempt at angst lol

Word Count: 1k

thank you for your request and the support :D it means a lot to me 🩷 btw don't ever feel like you're bothering me or like you need to leave me alone! i like talking to everyone :) also this is a good little plot, but im not the best at writing angst but this is helping me improve i think, so please tell me how i did! i really hope you like it SAC anon hahah

Before the war, you were a different person. Looking at you now, no one would ever guess you were once a bubbly, out going person. But Katsuki knew you were, and sometimes, he missed the old you.

It was hard to watch you wake up crying in the middle of the night from your horrible nightmares of the war. Some being about his near death experience, and others being about him dying in other ways.

Some nights, you didn't sleep at all, and it was really showing.

"Hey, keep your head up. I don't want you to fall asleep." Katsuki said. It was already months after the war, so you were all back at school, but you were one of the few students that was struggling the most.

He definitely has his struggles too, but he knew he had to be there for you, because yours were much worse.

You opened your eyes wider, trying your best to stay awake. "Sorry. I couldn't sleep last night."

"You havin' nightmares again?"

You nodded, he sighed.

"Come sleep in my dorm tonight. You sleep better with me and you know it."

You agreed and continued trying your best to stay awake for the rest of the day. Occasionally, Katsuki would have to wake you up or remind you to stay awake. The lack of sleep made it hard to focus, especially in Hero Training. Thankfully, Mr. Aizawa and the rest of the teachers were understanding of the students who were struggling.

Once school was over it felt like a weight was lifted off of your shoulders. You knew you had homework to do, but right now you'd rather sleep. Or at least attempt to. Since you were going to be with Katsuki tonight, you were probably only going to have one nightmare. Plus, he'd be there to comfort you.

Following your boyfriend to his dorm room, you immediately changed into some of your clothes that he had there for you, and then laid down on his bed.

For a while, you just silently watched him as he sat at his desk and did his homework, something you should also be doing.

"What're you starin' at?"

You smiled, but not as brightly as before, "I'm just admiring you."

He huffed, "Good, I'm awesome."

Rolling your eyes, you said, "And there he is."

He laughed and continued doing his homework. You just continued watching him, because it was something that comforted you. It was a reminder that he was okay and alive.

Knowing he was safe right in front of you, you fell asleep.

...

You didn't know what time it was, but it must've been late since the room you were in was dark.

You clutched your chest as you sat up in bed and breathed heavily, feeling tears prick your eyes.

Of course, you had another nightmare again. This one in particular was about Katsuki, and he was in the arms of Shigaraki. You saw the villain use his Decay quirk on him, and your boyfriend began to crumble away but you were paralyzed in your dream. There was nothing you could do.

The nightmare felt so real and so scary, like they usually do. You felt so helpless and scared. The evil that emitted from Shigaraki and All For One was something you'd always remember.

You subconsciously began to rock yourself back and forth and made self soothing noises as you continued to have a panic attack. They never got easier, or less scary as time went on. It always felt like you were going to die.

Your panic must've woke Katsuki up, because you suddenly heard his voice calling out to you.

"Hey, hey! Breathe baby, you gotta breathe." He said.

You shook your head, "I-I can't! It hurts. I'm scared, I'm gonna die!"

He carefully grabbed your hands and held them in his. He took one of them and brought it to his chest near his heart so you could feel it beat.

"What is my heart doing right now?" He asked. This was a method he used to ground you during these situations, especially because he knew how you felt about him and his safety.

You looked at his chest, "Beating. Your heart is beating."

"Right. Now what do you feel here?" He asked, now placing a hand on the blanket that was on top of you guys.

"The blanket."

"What does it feel like?"

"It's soft and fluffy."

As he continued distracting you from your panic, you eventually calmed down. You were still crying a bit, but he held you in his arms as you let it out.

"He killed you Katsuki. I was so scared, and I couldn't do anything!" You cried into his chest.

He rubbed your back, "You know that shit isn't real, no matter how real it feels. I'm right here living and breathing. I'm safe, okay?"

You nodded and sniffed, "Okay." You placed a hand on his chest over his heart and felt it beat, the steady rhythm of it comforting you.

Katsuki grabbed that hand and kissed the palm of it, "Love you. I'll be here all night, 'kay?"

"I love you too. Thank you."

"It's no problem."

The next morning, you felt more rested than usual. It must've been because you only had one nightmare, which was an improvement.

You noticed you woke up before your boyfriend, so you just let him sleep a little longer while you got on with your morning routine. You had a lot of your own things in his room, including an extra toothbrush which you were thankful for.

When he eventually woke up, he walked over to you and hugged you tightly.

"You feelin' okay?" He asked.

You nodded as best as you could in his tight grip, "Mhm."

"Be honest."

"I am! I feel a lot better than last night." You insisted as you pulled away slightly, still keeping your arms around him.

He hummed and kissed the top of your head, "Mkay. Wanna sleep with me again tonight?"

"Yeah, I'll bring more clothes later."

He smiled, "'Kay. Let's go to class." He said and threw an arm over your shoulder, making you smile up at him.

Yeah, you knew things would be okay as long as he was around.

authors note

i hope you liked it! i'm sorry it was kinda short, i've been in a little writing stump but im trying to get out of it!

love ya 🩷

tags for bakugou fics: @doumadono @shonen-brainrot

[it-was-too-cold-always]

Always Read the Fine Print Chapter 12

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11

Who actually reads all the terms and conditions? After mindlessly checking a box years ago, our Reader unintentionally agrees to be part of a scientific study to create super soldier babies. To make matters worse, her fellow test subject is the brooding and intimidating Bucky Barnes.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader struggles to accept this colder relationship with Bucky. Meanwhile's he's up to something...

Warnings: arranged marriage, forced proximity, lots of angst, violence, PTSD/nightmares, panic attacks, language, SMUT 18+ only, oral fem receiving, unprotected sex, size kink, let me know if I'm missing anything

a/n: Hi friends, I'm sorry it's been so long. My depression came at me like a b*tch. But I'm here now and will hopefully be posting more regularly 💕

Every night, Bucky would hand you that stupid syringe. Your heart sunk a little each time he’d knock on the door. You were hoping he was coming to spend time with you, to tell you everything was going to be okay, to hold you. But instead, he would put the syringe in your hand, kiss your forehead, and leave the room. That was it. 

As if that wasn’t bad enough, he was spending all his time with Steve - almost every day. You could hear them talking downstairs. You could never actually make out what they were saying, but you could hear their serious tones murmuring through the thin walls. You considered standing at the top of the stairs so you could eavesdrop, but you knew better than to spy on two super soldiers. So instead you paced around the bedroom–the one that you were supposed to be sharing with Bucky–and waited for Steve to leave. Although no one outright said it, you got the feeling that you weren’t invited to their little chats. One time, you went downstairs with the excuse of needing a snack. They immediately shifted the topic to Steve’s recent mission. Steve, ever the gentleman, would greet you with a warm smile and invite you to sit with them. He’d ask you how you’re feeling, how your day was going, if you’ve read any good books lately. You appreciated his kindness but felt a little awkward – surely they were itching for you to leave so they could return to their conversation. Once the small talk became unbearable, you’d fake a headache and excuse yourself. You claimed you were going to go lie down, but they could hear your faint footsteps pacing on the hardwood above them.

~

Bucky was completely and utterly miserable. He was still fuming about the sensors they implanted in you. You were his wife, and he couldn’t protect you. It made him feel powerless. He couldn’t stop thinking about how panicked you were the last time you had sex. He could feel your anxiety. He couldn’t help but think he violated you in some way. This prevented him from giving you any affection; he was terrified of crossing a boundary with you. The forehead kisses were as far as he dared to go. Deep down, he knew he should sit down and have a conversation with you about it. But if he heard you say outright that you don’t want to be intimate with him anymore, he would be devastated. 

~

After three weeks of doing this ridiculous syringe routine, you couldn’t take it anymore. He handed you the syringe, kissed your forehead, and turned to leave. Just like every other night. But this time, you reached out to grab his hand.

“Please don’t go,” you whispered, tears already welling up in your eyes. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so desperate for his attention. 

“Oh, doll…” Bucky wasn’t sure what to say. His heart was breaking, seeing you like this. 

“Please, just stay the night. We don’t even have to talk. Just spend the night with me,” you begged, tears freely falling down your cheeks. “I miss you.” Your confession was all it took for Bucky to realize what an idiot he was. He was so desperate to protect you, he didn’t even occur to him that he might be hurting you. 

“Of course, sweetheart. I’m right here. I’m sorry I left you alone so much,” Bucky admitted, pulling you into a tight hug. “I was so scared I’d upset you, but I seriously screwed up.” He rubbed your back as you let all your tears fall. All those weeks of feeling so alone, but you finally had your Bucky back. You wanted to smack him and kiss him at the same time. 

He helped you with the syringe, which was oddly romantic. He was very gentle. Once that was over with, he pulled you into his chest, running his hands through your hair and down your back. You let out a long sigh – you had missed this so much. You forgot how your head felt resting on his toned muscles, how warm his chest was, how safe you felt. It was like a dream. A wonderful, euphoric dream.

“Do you trust me?” Bucky asked softly. The question caught you so off guard, your finger paused before it could finish tracing the scars on his chest. Propping yourself up, you looked at him quizzically. “Of course I do. What kind of question is that?” you replied. You were trying not to be offended that he would doubt you. 

“All I’ve wanted to do is protect you,” he began, sitting up to fully face you. He took your hands in his, mindlessly fidgeting with the diamond ring on your left hand. “But I’ve failed every time.”

“Bucky–“ you tried to cut him off, but he continued.

“No matter how hard I try, you end up getting hurt. I hope you can forgive me. Some days I can barely live with myself, knowing how much pain I’ve caused you.”

“Bucky, for Christ’s sake. This is NOT your fault!” you interjected, hating to see him beat himself up like this. 

“Doll, please just let me explain. It’s important,” he said, giving your hands a small squeeze. You nodded slowly and stayed silent, letting him continue. The urgency in his voice was scaring you. “You deserve better than to stay here and pay for my sins. I can’t stand to watch you suffer like this. Okay? I need you to understand.” His pleading eyes looked deep into yours. The more he talked, the more fearful you became. “I’ve told you some of the atrocities I’ve committed as HYDRA’s assassin. The things I’ve done to further their agenda, to get them in power,” he sighed deeply before continuing. “With the number of times they scrambled my brain, they assumed I couldn’t remember anything. That I wouldn’t recognize faces. But I do. I remember all of them.”

Your heart was breaking for the man in front of you. All those people he killed and all the ones that made him do it. They all take up space in his mind. No wonder he never sleeps. 

“The HYDRA members they arrested when I was freed…that was only a small fraction of them. HYRDRA is everywhere. If I break you out, there’s nowhere we could go that would be safe. I can’t rescue you until I dismantle HYDRA.” He paused and waited for your reaction. He wasn’t sure how you’d respond to all this. 

“Wait a second…are you saying HYDRA is behind all this? I mean that would make sense, this whole reproducing super soldiers thing is messed up, and they’re not exactly known for being ethical. But HYDRA working inside SHIELD? All this time? That’s…” You wanted to say impossible, but ever since your world got turned upside down, you don’t know what to expect anymore. You’ve completely lost sense of what’s normal. “So what do we do? If it’s as big as you say, there’s no way you can take them down alone.”

Bucky let out a deep sigh, looking around the room as if the words he’s trying to find will reveal themselves in the wallpaper. His gaze meets yours, but he won’t find the answer in your eyes either. He held your hands in his and took a deep breath.

“Steve and I have a plan. But we’re gonna need your help.”

Taglist 💛

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[stanfanfiction]

Taste of You - Ken x fem!reader - PART FOUR

Alrighty. Going to try bringing the reader’s history more into this one. There’s still a lotta hot going on but this one is more somber with some fluff and feelings and I really hope you like it <3

Thank you to @dogboytim for suggesting Ken helping the reader deal with self esteem/body issues. So definitely a TW for that.

I’ve also been dealing with some emotional shit in my own life and I think I kind used this as a catharsis for myself so….I hope it’s an okay read 🙈

Masterlist for previous parts

Warnings: 18+ ONLY / dealing with past trauma / panic attacks / body dysmorphia / domestic abuse (mentioned as a theme, nothing specific other than leading into the readers self esteem struggles) / horny Ken / caretaking Ken / fluff / feelings / Ken finally gets out of the house / soft sex / oral (fem!receiving) / stubborn Ken / bathroom sex / ptsd / some kinda con-non-con (but reader likes it so it is technically all consensual) / making love vs having sex… (you’ll see)

You squealed as Ken’s fingers entered you swiftly. Apparently you hadn’t been giving him enough attention this morning, *again,* and you were definitely starting to see a pattern forming here. You sat opened legged on your bathroom counter where Ken had placed you moments earlier while you were only trying to brush your hair and get dressed before you found yourself leaning back against the mirror over the sink and pulling his hair.

“I *HATE* class days,” he seethed as his mouth went to attack your clit and you gasped but smiled as you threw your head back. You hadn’t told him that right before he came into the bathroom deciding to be needy once again that you had just received an email that your class had been cancelled for the day, but you decided it didn’t hurt to not tell him for the next few minutes.

“Hmm…ahh…Ken is so needy again.”

Ken’s eyes stared at you as if being challenged and he used his free hand to open up your vulva lips and plant his tongue firmly against you, moving up from your opening slowly. You bucked a little and Ken removed his fingers from your core to place that hand on across your hips, holding you down for him as he began to tongue fuck you.

“Won’t let you leave,” he mumbled, his mouth pressed into you.

You laughed again. “Greedy boy. My class got cancelled today,” you breathed.

Ken paused for a moment to smile, then went back to pleasuring you but less from a place of frustration now as he began going a little slower, loving how you always squirmed when his touch was just a little too slow and your body craved more.

Your cell phone ringtone made you both startle, and you immediately began working to control your breathing when you saw the number.

“Ken, I have to get this,” you said, picking it up to answer it. Ken stopped what he was doing but remained kneeling in front of you, hands gently massaging your thighs. He leaned his cheek into one of your knees and smiled contentedly, pressing a kiss into it.

“Hi, Professor.”

Ken’s face fell.

“Hi, Miss Y/L/N. Sorry I wasn’t able to reply to your email, my Wifi has been dodgy all week.”

“No worries,” you said, noticing Ken’s scowl and trying not to giggle. You ran your fingers through his hair softly and that seemed to calm him down.

“But in answer to your email, unfortunately my plane back has been delayed so I’m not able to meet in-person, but I’m more than happy to answer any questions over the phone if now works for you.”

Ken shook his head.

“Yes! That would be great, thank you. Let me just grab the assignment really quick.” You wrinkled your nose at Ken and attempted to get off the counter but Ken held both of your legs tightly, not letting you go.

“Ken!” You scolded him silently. “I NEED to get my book bag.”

Ken gave you a playful look and stood. “Stay,” he said quietly. He left and within seconds he was back with your bag. You dug the out sample assignment you had been giving in class and smiled a thank you to him.

“Okay, so my first question was about -“ you could have committed a murder right then. Ken had pulled you forward to where you were almost hanging off the counter and dug his lips into your wetness.

“Ah, sorry,” ohhh you were definitely going to kill him, as you stressed over how there was probably no way your voice sounded normal right now no matter how hard you were tying. “Just finding the page.”

“Of course, take your time.”

“Stop it, stop IT,” you almost hissed, pulling the phone away from your ear just long enough to get your words out. Ken’s eyes met yours and your heart jumped. Ohh fuck fuck fuucckkk you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what he was feeling then, but it definitely wasn’t going to make your phone call any easier.

You kept your eyes glued to his while trying to ask your question, glancing at the paper in your hand every couple moments to make sure your stressed-out brain was remembering how to speak correctly. Ken just stared back at you, waiting, and somehow that tension was worse than if he was fucking you right now because you didn’t know when he was going to strike.

Your professor began answering your question, and you rummaged with your hand in your bag to find a pin to mark on the mock-up assignment when Ken shoved his tongue into your opening, and you could have lunged at him. He smirked.

“This isn’t a game,” you whispered down at him, trying to hold focus enough to write down what you needed to.

His eyes bored into yours. “Oh, I disagree,” they said, twinkling, and he began firmly licking you in circles. You had begun to read his mind simply by how expressive his eyes were, and you felt like you were having a full conversation with them right now.

Your hand shook a little and you cursed internally not being able to write at this moment. You pushed at Ken’s shoulder with your foot but of course he was built like a wall and didn’t budge. He grinned for a second and you caught yourself grinning back in an irritating mixture of frustration but also…. fun? And you hated that you were having fun.

“I’m a professional student,” you kept thinking to yourself on repeat.

“Did that answer what you were asking?” Your professor’s words didn’t register until a few seconds after they were spoken.

“Oh! Yes, it did, thank you so much.”

“Of course. Anything else you need to go over?”

You eyed Ken and wanted to get your answers but also knew it just wasn’t worth it at this point and you would have to talk to your professor after class next week.

“No, that was it. I really appreciate you getting back to me.”

You had NO idea what his reply was as Ken stood up and wrapped your legs around his waist, reaching underneath your butt, but you were able to register your professor saying to have a good day.

“You too, thank you!” You managed to get out before Ken took the phone, hung it up, and tossed it aside as he easily picked you up and carried you over to the wall.

“FUCKING hell, Ken,” you let out. “You cannot do that.”

“Hmmm.” He smirked. You wanted to both slap that smugness off of his face but also kiss him hungrily.

“I’ve got to put you in your place,” you lamented as you became trapped between the wall and Ken holding you up.

“But I *am* in my place,” Ken replied simply, knowing he was egging you on, and solidifying his point by sinking his cock into you.

“I *mean* it - ahhhhhh…” Your mind went blank as your legs held on for dear life around his waist while he fucked up into you sharply.

You both lay panting on the bed, coming down from your highs. Ken held you like usual, butterfly kissing your face while you came back to reality. Your head was swimming from the sex but also from realizing you needed to get Ken interested in something other than you, and fast. He had come into your life right after midterms, and you realized now how much of a blessing that was because you couldn’t fathom how on earth you would get through finals this way.

You petted his cheek. “Ken? Would you like to go on an outing with me today?”

He sat up a little, curious.

“I have been meaning to go to the library anyways, and you could come see my campus with me.”

“I thought you said only students were allowed there.”

“Well, only students can be in the classroom. You are able to come with me to the campus, though.”

Ken smiled, and your heart ached a little at realizing how much you really hadn’t been thinking of how he would probably love going out with you, he just didn’t seem to have the motivation to explore on his own, at least not since you had known him. You thanked yourself for remembering to get him a normal, not open-to-the-hips shirt the other day so he had something to wear, and before long you were both on the bus headed to your school.

The bus was a FASCINATING experience for Ken. You watched in entertained awe at him as he acted like an excited puppy. He pointed out cool buildings and places he wanted to visit to you every few seconds, commented on the unattractive interior design of the bus, and was reaching up to pull the emergency break alert rope when you grabbed his arm top stop him just in time.

His excitement never waned but he had moments of quiet, too, and he held your hand in both of his as he stared out the window. You leaned your head against the seat and studied him.

Who *was* this man, exactly? You never questioned his explanation that he was a literal doll come into your world, and now you wondered why that hadn’t felt difficult to believe. You knew the last couple weeks had been utter chaos on a number of levels, and you realized how much you had actually been needing someone to come in and turn everything into something wonderful for you. That definitely explained your lack of attempting to learn about him, what he was searching for, what he desired and wanted out of life.

You felt melancholy then, watching as Ken pointed to a dog out of the window and turned, smiling at you, making sure you saw it. You smiled back and nodded, and he turned his attention back to the outside world, never letting loose of your hand.

Your heart hurt now. This wasn’t something that could last forever, was it? Or…maybe? You didn’t know anything that was happening, other than in your little condo that you paid for with your inheritance, that life had become a little bubble of a world the two of you had created, something from a fantasy, and you missed it when you weren’t there. When you walked in the door, Ken was always waiting for you, and your little house felt like a home. You decided you needed to start trying to look at things a little more realistically, learn to actually know Ken, see if maybe this whole thing had a futur-

You cut off the thought before it felt too soothing, not wanting to get your hopes up. You sniffed softly and quickly wiped at a tear that you hadn’t expected to form, not wanting Ken to see. You just wanted to focus on enjoying today with him.

Getting off the bus was its own new adventure, as Ken looked around the campus. “Where are your classes? Do you have a favorite classroom? Do you have a favorite study place? Is there somewhere you like to meet with your friends?”

His questions hit you hard, and you hated how oddly sad you felt today. Everything he was asking was less about general curiosity and only meant to better understand YOU and your life and how you existed in it when he wasn’t around.

You two made your way to the library where you found the book you needed and also check-out a book Ken had been absorbed in about horses. You knew you’d have to ask him to explain that one someday.

You were strolling slowly back to the bus stop when you noticed a really nice grassy area shaded by a huge tree, and suggested you both sit there for awhile. Ken happily complied, and you opened your new book to start going over it. Ken snuggled up next to you and would every few minutes ask about something in the book that he didn’t understand as he read over your shoulder, and this was honestly a really easy way to study for your exams, you decided.

Suddenly he felt your body go rigid. Ken noticed and followed your eyesight to see a man staring at you, dark eyes filled with anger. His body stance was tight, one hand in a fist. He looked the personification of pure rage. You felt paralyzed.

“Who is that?”

You worked to answer as you exhaled. “My ex.”

Your ex. He really didn’t know anything about your ex, but he fought like hell to destroy the dagger of jealousy that pierced his heart just then. He realized that was out of place and definitively not called for, especially in this moment, but he couldn’t help it, now thinking of how someone else besides him had been with you in the same way he was with you now, and he loathed the images that flooded his mind.

He leaned down to your ear. “Is that the reason you were crying the other day?”

Unable to verbally reply, tears stung your eyes as your breaths became shaky, although you were working desperately to control your outward appearance. You refused to look wounded in front of him.

That was plenty of confirmation for Ken and he wrapped his arm around you protectively. “What do you need me to do?”

“Help me get out of here,” your words barely a whisper as he helped you to your feet swiftly and grabbed the books. You tried to look away but were held captive by the gaze of the man standing across the courtyard from you.

Ken wasn’t sure what hit him then, but he suddenly felt outraged. He handed the books to you. “I’ll be right back,” he seethed, jaw tight.

You snapped back into reality just in time as Ken began swift, long strides over to the man, who look pleased at the attention he was receiving, and smirked in your direction. You jumped forward and gripped Ken’s arm.

“No, no, no, no, Ken, we have to leave.”

He paused and turned back to you because of the panic in your voice.

“He’s just trying to start a fight. I need to go.”

“He hurt you,” Ken bit out.

“Which is why we need to go. He’s angering you on purpose to hurt me again.”

Ken glanced back over his shoulder at the man who pulled his hand out of his fraternity jacket and waved mockingly. Ken huffed but hated how you were pleading with him, so he turned away and you both began walking briskly out of his sight.

You both remained quiet on the way home other than Ken asking if there was anything he could do a couple of times. You bit at your nails restlessly until the bus stopped at your exit station and you took Ken’s hand and hurried off back to your condo. You didn’t feel safe until you were back inside your home with the front door double locked.

You had kept your gaze on the floor the whole journey home, and Ken gently placed his hands on your arms, leading you to sit down on the sofa as he kneeled in front of you and took your hands in his.

“What did he do?” His voice sounded shaky, as if afraid of hearing the answers.

You felt fairly certain Ken didn’t know about certain forms of violence that happened between couples. From what he had told you about Barbieland, that idea had never been considered.

“So many things,” you were still trying to hold back tears. “So, so many things.”

“Tell me.”

You looked up from the ground to get lost in Ken’s blue eyes filled with concern and wanting nothing more than to understand so he knew how to help. The thought that telling him about what had happened and how that fresh new understanding of reality would probably break him just to process felt so cruel, and fuck, you didn’t want to lose the one innocent aspect you had had in your life. You broke out into sobs, trying to hide your face and Ken let you, your hands hiding your eyes as Ken wrapped his arms around your legs and placed his chin on your knee, waiting patiently.

“What is it you’re so scared to tell me?” He asked when your sobs became less loud.

How could you answer this without actually answering this…

“Sometimes, when people are in relationships, they can do really horrible things to their partners. They can hurt them really badly, in ways that sometimes never fully heal. That pain,” you grasped at your chest were you heart was, “it can just sort of stay, and sometimes you only have so much control over how much or how often it can hurt you again.” You began crying harder again, and Ken slowly got up and sat next to you, softly cradling you in his arms. You were thankful for the warmth and cried into his chest as he just held you like that until you were ready to say more. He wanted to know every detail of what you had gone through but also knew not to push it and wanted to respect the boundary you were holding with him. He worked to keep his body language soft and protective while fuming inside.

“Sometimes, though,” your voice was a little hoarse from all the crying, “people are able to find other people who help them. Who make them feel safe. Who are kind and gentle and who you know would never intentionally harm you.” You placed a hand on his chest next to your head, and his anger felt like it was seeping through his veins like the lava from a volcano as it erupted, filling every inch of him.

He had never felt this way before. You felt his muscles clench around you, but not tightening on you so as not to hurt you.

“What is it, Ken?”

“I feel angry,” he got out, jaw clenched again.

You nodded sadly. “Yeah. Me, too.”

He breathed in sharply. “How do I make sure he will never do it again?”

“I got a restraining order awhile back. That’s why he wasn’t able to walk over to us and was instead trying to get you to come to him instead. He tries to find new ways to scare me without getting in trouble legally anymore. He went for you hoping you would fall for it, to send me an extra message, that he is still capable to hurt anything I love.”

Ken felt his throat go dry. He wanted nothing more now than you follow up on those last few words, but now wasn’t the time to validate anything for himself. He needed to keep focused on caring for you.

“I will take care of you, y/n. I’m protect you. I promise.”

You felt his words vibrate through his chest right into your ear and felt his chin rest on the crown of your head.

“I will always be here.”

You smiled the tiniest smile and leaned into him more. “I know.”

Ken swelled with happiness, his anxiety calming down a little bit. You pulled back and Ken lifted your legs to rest over his lap, arms keeping their place around you.

“Days like today,” you said, “they have become less about physical danger to me. It’s all about hear,” you placed one of Ken’s hands gently on the side of your head. “It’s the memories that still hurt, and he works to bring them back.”

“How can I help make them go away, at least for now?”

You thought about it, then shook your head. “They’ll fade again, as they always do, for awhile. I think I need to clear my head and shower.”

Ken nodded and helped you stand up. “Do you need me?”

“I think I need just a minute to myself.”

“Okay. I understand.”

You stood on tiptoes to place the tiniest of kisses on the tip of his nose, then slowly began to head towards the bathroom.

Ken came in later when he head the shower faucet turned off, and walked in to check on you. Typically you had to issue being naked as soon as you dried off, but you had wrapped yourself tightly in a towel and he noticed the mirror had a towel over it, too.

You had hoped he wouldn’t walk in and have to explain another leftover stupid fucking thing from your previous relationship.

You tumble over your words to just get it over with, and his eyes grew wider with each passing sentence.

“But…..” he seemed incredulous, almost as if you had made the whole thing up. “You’re so beautiful.” It was stating a fact. There was no argument and he couldn’t comprehend anyone disagreeing.

“Sometimes I feel the opposite. You roughly brushed your hair just to have something to do.

Ken couldn’t believe the raw audacity that someone would harm someone else with words to make them hate how they looked, even for a second. He told you this in so many words, but finished with that even thought he didn’t understand, he did understand that your hurt didn’t hurt less just because he wanted it to.

You looked up at him, holding back tears, suddenly feeling the most intense desire to get lost in this man who genuinely could not process the pain you were in because it seemed so brutal, so cruel, so incredibly ridiculous that anyone would have to bear the weight that you were carrying. You need that, that little wisp that he offered of getting lost in the reality of his mind that knew so little but also someone knew and felt so much.

“Make love to me, Ken.”

It took him a moment to comprehend what you were asking, but he someone instinctively knew what you asked for, and walked over to you, ever so gently taking your face in his hands and leaning down to kiss you.

The kiss was like a spark went off in your head. Ken was gentle, taking your lips in his in tiny movements as if he might break you if he touched you too hard. You moaned to encourage him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and in turn he held you closer to him, his arms now around your back.

He kissed you lovingly and with passion you had never known before, pulling back to stare into your eyes, waiting for you to tell him what you wanted. He had made himself master of your command, and he wanted you to be in charge of everything that happened right now, anything that would make you feel loved the way he hoped you wanted to.

“Take me to the bed?”

Ken picked your wrapped figure up bridal style and did as you asked, laying you down and holding you to him, your faces inches apart on the pillow. You initiated kissing again, and his hand caressed the back of you head, pulling you a little closer. His tongue traced the your bottom lip and you smiled a little and he smiled back.

“What do you need?” He was completely lost in wanting to care for you.

You didn’t reply, not to be rude, but your brain froze up again, not wanting to see your own body be uncovered right now.

Ken reached for the top of the towel, fingers closing around it, waiting for your consent. You shook your head.

“That’s alright,” he soothed, seeing guilt spread across your face. The he had an idea.

“What if you close your eyes, and I undress you under the comforter?”

You contemplated this then nodded, feeling small and mousy. Ken pulled his shirt over his head and then the comforter over both of you as he hovered over you but not putting too much pressure on you.

You closed your eyes as his hand went back for the towel, and as he began pulling it apart, pausing every few seconds to make sure you hadn’t changed your mind, he left tender kisses down your neck and collarbone, sucking softly, and he it felt so good to him when he heard you moan. The towel eventually fell open, lying underneath you, your body bare.

Ken ran his large hand up and down your body, grazing the side of your breast and then down your stomach and hip, your body responding so naturally it was as if he had been created just to touch you. You opened your eyes, relaxing, and saw him watching you, studying your every emotion.

You smiled shyly. “Hi.”

He smiled warmly. “Hi.”

You placed your hands on his chest just to touch him. “You make me feel loved.”

If Ken could have physically melted, he would have in that moment. “That is always my intention.”

You pulled him down to you, consuming his lips, and Ken’s body molded into yours as he somehow fully surrounded you, covered in a little cave of a comforter. You felt like nothing could penetrate the safety he provided for you right now.

You reached towards towards his jeans and unbuttoned them, him raising his hips enough to where you two were able to get them kicked off.

“Need you,” you said, pulling him to you.

He nodded and began to move downwards but you stopped him.

“I just want to feel *you.”

“But…you…I haven’t done anything yet -“

“I’m fine, Ken.” You promised. “I just need to feel you, now.”

He moved back up so your hips lined up perfectly and you opened your legs for him as he dipped his member into your folds. He gasped a little at how wet you already were.

He looked confused. “How..?” He trailed off, then, “I thought I needed to make you wet.”

“You always do.”

Ken breathed in deeply. His feelings for you soared, and he felt like he might be floating a little. He rubbed his tip against your opening and you put your arms around his neck again.

“Show me how much you love me, Ken.”

That was the last confirmation he needed as he dipped his cock into you, making himself keep shallow thrusts as you got used to his size before moving slowly deeper inside of you.

His hands roamed your body, stopping every few inches to tell you how beautiful you were, how majestically you moved, how perfect your noises were. He kissed each part he could reach with hips lips for emphasis, wanting to cover you with his love, and you felt that energy wash over every piece of you that he touched.

You felt beautiful, you felt seen and held and your hands explored Ken’s body at the same time.

You tangled your fingers in the back of his hair as he began to move faster but still maintaining a much slower pace then usual, both of you completely lost in each other for what felt like an eternity.

Finally, you began to feel your climax building, but loved how tenderly Ken was fucking you, and didn’t want it to change.

“Keep going, just like that, Ken. Please.”

His hand gripped your hip as he felt you arch a little, and he knew you were close. He wanted every single thrust to matter, for you to feel what he was hoping you would feel from him. He kept the pace you asked for, only making his movement a little rougher as you eyes begin to close tightly, your hands pulling on his hair now.

“Y/n,” he coaxed. “Please keep your eyes open. I want to see you.”

You did as he asked, and you swear you’d never seen a more beautiful sight then him staring down at you, and you lost it then, the most wonderful wave traveling from your legs all the way up into your chest, warm and tingly and almost healing in how it felt.

Ken followed right after, keeping his eyes on yours as well, so tender and so content, and you held him as he collapsed on top of you, his face buried in your neck as you both panted.

Ken almost cried as he engulfed you with his arms when he heard your next words, breathy but firm.

“I love you, too, Ken.”

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@uncle-eggy

[sturniololoco]

Hiii idk if you’ll be able to do this request but I wanted to ask!! Do you think you could do a SLS story based of Sam and Colby’s recent yt vid with the triplets? Like maybe she gets rlly scared and her brothers comfort her or smth like that. I love your work btw :)) 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Scared Shitless

Sturniolo Little Sister (SLS) x The Sturniolo Triplets

Warnings: Ghosts, panic attacks, crying, etc.

SLS/N's POV

I was beyond excited once my brothers and I got invited to collaborate with Sam and Colby.

I started counting down the days till we left for Austin, and it had finally arrived!

I was sitting in the back of the van, my legs across Nick's lap. He was quietly scrolling through his phone while Matt and Chris talked quietly upfront.

I had one of my headphones in, watching some old Sam and Colby videos, just to see what I was getting myself into.

I was so excided, but that excitement turned to fear as we pulled up into the hotel parking lot.

-

We met the two YouTubers in the lobby of the creepy hotel, giving them side hugs, having met them once before.

"Who ready!?" Sam asked us, giving us a smile as we looked curiously around the hotel.

My brothers raised their hands and cheered in excitement while I stayed quiet, a little on edge while being in the hotel.

Soon after meeting Sam and Colby, our tour guide came over and introduced herself to us and the camera, starting the tour, totally flirting with Chris the whole time.

But not even that could ease the feeling in the pit of my stomach.

-

The tour had gone smoothly and we were now starting to film our experiments.

It started with the flashlights. You asked us questions and responded, almost perfectly every time.

This made my skin crawl and my breathing uneven, but I held in my panic, not wanting to spoil the video or my brother's fun.

"Hey, you okay?" Chris asked me in a whisper, nudging my arm slightly with his own.

I nodded, saying,

"Oh- yeah, yeah, yeah! I'm totally good."

At this point, I was trying to convince myself. Trying to talk myself into calmness.

Chris gave me a disapproving look as I continued to nod, trying my best to sell my lie, but not doing a very good job.

"Just get me, Matt, or Nick, if it gets to be too much, okay?" He said, rubbing my arm slightly while giving me a soft smile.

I nodded, his words already comforting me as I felt my heartbeat go down. And thankfully, it was time to move on to the next investigation.

-

The room was dark and closed in, no matter the ghost-sensing lights and camera light. I was feeling absolutely sick to my stomach at the thought of being trapped in this room with ghosts.

And the fact that they were answering our questions perfectly did not help.

At all.

My breathing was short and detached by the time we stopped the camera to move on to the next thing.

the lights were still off in this tiny room, possibly filled with spirits.

"M-Matt..." I stuttered, my heartbeat moving at a rapid pace, banging against my rib cage.

"hey, Sam, you mind if we take 5?" Matt asked, grabbing my hand and leading me outside as the blonde boy nodded.

He took me out into the dim light of the corridor outside the creepy room and sat me down against the wall, kneeling in front of me, still holding my hand.

"Hey, breathe sweet girl. Just breathe...In...and out... that's it." He said, tracing shapes on the back of my hand while I struggled to get my breathing right.

I could feel the tears trickling down my face, but Matt's soft, calm voice was easing me out of my panicked state.

Once I was slightly back to normal and the tears weren't falling like a waterfall, my other two brothers came out in the hallway and sat next to me.

"We can stop if you need to get out of here," Nick said, giving me a side hug.

I immediately shook my head no, saying,

"i-I think I'll be fine. Just don't leave me anywhere."

Chris grabs my other hand gently and gives it a little squeeze.

"of course not sis, we'll be right here the whole time.

I nod and stand up, clutching onto Chris's hand as we walk back to Sam and Colby, ready to start the next challenge.

-

The rest of the night went off without a hitch! One of my brothers stayed with me at all times, helping me face my fear.

"I'm so proud of you for facing your fear kiddo!" Matt said as we began to drive back to our non-spirited hotel.

He looked at me through the rearview mirror, giving me a proud smile.

I smiled back, thinking,

I wouldn't have been able to do it without my amazing brothers.

I have some more Sam and Colby x SLS if y'all want me to do that! Let me know!!!

@idkwhosnyla @babypat08 @eyelessdemon00 @christopherowensturniolo @sturnsxx @freshloveforthefit @matty443355 @sleepysturnss @emeraldgreenbeautiesstu @sunsetsturniolos @hoesturniolo @x4nd3rsukz @chr1sgirl4life @sstvrnioloo @sturns-posts @chrisstopherfilmed @kylasrealityx @zoeysturnioloooooo @comet235 @islaasblog @sturnioloblogs @defnotayonna @mattsleftnipple03 @thematthewlover @mattsaq @idkhowtosleep

[daddyslilchickenfingers2]

Kinktober (reuploaded)

Shower (Matt)

Request: None

Warnings: smut, roommates/friends to lovers, talk of masturbation, shower sex

Y/n’s pov

I’m not an influencer and I don’t want to be, I just so happen to be friends with the Sturniolo Triplets. I met them after my ex-boyfriend cheated and kicked me out, I had no money and nowhere to stay. I was also rather scared of my ex so I had barely any of my things due to the fear of being alone with him. I met Nick first, I was walking down the street to my car as I started to feel a panic attack coming on. I ran into him and immediately tried to apologize but I started crying instead. And with Nick, Chris and Matt weren’t far behind as within a couple minutes they were behind us, probably confused as to why their brother was hugging some random crying girl.

Nick asked me what was wrong and I basically explained everything. They introduced themselves before having a brief discussion with each other. Ultimately, they had decided I could live with them until I got back on my feet, they seemed nice enough so I agreed as I had no other options. The next day they went with me back to my old apartment to help me pick up all of my stuff. Chris had explained what they do for work and such before offering me to be their assistant for a bit, meaning I’d help them with videos by picking up stuff from them, helping come up with ideas, helping film, etc. We later had a meeting with Laura and worked out everything.

That was nearly two years ago, it was supposed to be temporary but we quickly became best friends. When I first moved in with the boys, I was very skeptical of having to share a bathroom with one of them. Luckily for me, I shared the bathroom with Matt, the neatest one of the three brothers. Matt and I have had our fair share of accidentally walking in on each out, but we always close the door immediately. Today, however, I fucked up. I just simply wasn’t paying attention, I heard the shower running but I was on the phone with my parents, who live out of state which is why I didn’t just live with them.

I was talking with my mom, getting ready to say goodbye when I walked into the bathroom. When you walk in from the door in my room, the first thing you see is our big glass shower. “Okay, bye mom. I love you too” I said as I hung up with her and looked up for the first time. I was immediately met with Matt, who hadn’t even noticed I was there, he was too busy jacking off in the shower. I don’t know why, but I closed the door with me on the inside, I just couldn’t look away. The way his tatted arm held him up against the wall while his right one was tightly wrapped his cock mixed with his low moans just made my brain short-circuit. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from it, I just stood there staring.

Well, that was until Matt turned his head and smirked, “Are you just going to stand there or are you gonna help me?” he asked cockily. I was in shock of being caught and could only mutter “I’m sorry” and looked up at his face. He chuckled “Well you can either stay and help or you can leave, your choice sweetheart” I walked over to the shower with a smile. I was only wearing a tshirt and panties so I got naked pretty quick. The way Matt was staring at me, made me feel some type of way. He opened the shower door and grabbed my hand, pulling me in with him.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you standing there?” he asked while pulling me closer by my hips. “I didn’t realize you were in here at first but once I did and saw what you were doing, I couldn’t look away” I blushed as Matt looked down at me. “I was so close to cumming when I saw you in here and had to stop” he said lowly, inching his lips towards my own. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss, before trailing my right hand between us to start rubbing his cock. Matt pulled away and groaned, “I think you owe me a blowjob now. I wanna see you on your knees with my dick down your throat” he said while pushing me onto my knees.

I started off by teasing the tip with my tongue, giving it a few kitty licks before fully deep throating him. “Holy fuck! I didn’t expect you to start deep throating me right away, shit!” he groaned as I took him by surprise. I continued doing that until Matt unintentionally thrusted into my mouth, making me gag. “Shit- I’m sorry” Matt tried to apologize but I just hollowed out my cheeks and sucked him harder, swallowing around his tip. “C-Can I cum down your throat?” he asked breathlessly.

I replied by humming around his cock, a couple of seconds after that Matt came, loudly groaning. His cum was somehow both salty and sweet, not bitter like most guys’. Matt helped me back up and immediately pushed me up against the wall, caging me in with one arm while the other came to cup the side of my face. He pressed a needy kiss to my lips, which quickly grew into a heavy makeout. I felt his cock getting hard again against my thigh as I pulled his hair, “Are you going to fuck me, or do I have to finish myself off?” I teased.

“You’re not allowed to get yourself off anymore, that’s my job. I don’t care if you wake me up at 3am just to get you off, because I’ll do it” Matt growled, spreading my legs with his knee. He looked down at me with a cocky smile before running two fingers through my folds and pushed them into me for just a second. “So tight, you’re going to feel so good around my cock” he groaned, adding on, “Do you want me to finger you first?” with a smile. “No, I can take it. I need it now” I whine, “You need what baby?” he said with a smirk, “I need your cock in me, please Matt!” I begged him.

Matt let out a groan before lifting up my left leg with his right arm, wrapping it around his waist before placing his tip at my entrance. He looked up at me to make sure I was really okay with it, I nodded my head and he pushed himself all the way it. We both moaned as he bottomed out, “Move please, I don’t need you to be soft and gentle with me” I told him while wrapping my arms around his neck. All he said was “As you wish” before ruthlessly pounding into me, causing me to let out a couple of loud moans.

His left hand was immediately pressed over my mouth to muffle the sounds, “Shh, you have to be quiet. You can be loud the next time we have the house to ourselves” Matt groaned in my ear. He kissed down to my neck and started to suck a couple of hickies into my skin. My moans and whines were muffled by his hand but I wanted to tell him how good he was making me feel. I removed his hand for a second, “Fuck Matt! You’re so b-big, feels so good. I’m close” I moaned breathlessly before putting his hand back over my mouth.

“I want you to do something for me princess. I want you to rub your clit and cum on my cock for me” he groaned with a smile. I did as Matt said and started rubbing my clit at a fast pace and he started thrusting faster. “Be a good girl and cum for me baby” he growled in my ear before I came on his cock, hard, Matt trusted in a few more times before kissing me while he wrapped his hand around his cock.

He groaned into the kiss before throwing his head back and cumming between us. “Shit” he moaned in a very loud, high pitched tone. Matt kissed me again for a short amount of time, “You know, next time I want you to cum inside of me” I smirked. “Shut up, you’re gonna make me hard again” he laughed before he grabbed his towel, and got out. “Here you go pretty girl” he said as he handed me a towel before someone knocked on the door from Matt’s room.

“Hey Matt, are you okay? I heard you yell. Also, can I talk to you about something” it was Nick. I grabbed my clothes off the floor while Matt looked at me in fear as I opened the door to my room. Matt put his finger up, signaling he wanted to say something, “ Yeah, I’m okay. I just stubbed my toe but give me a second, I’m naked” he nervously laughed while putting his boxers on.

Matt came over and kissed me softly, then gave me a hug which is when I whispered, “You have a cute butt” with a quiet giggle. He started blushing and shook his head, walking backwards and mouthing “Text me” before I closed my door and Matt went into his. “What the fuck just happened” I thought to myself while getting dressed, looking in the mirror to assess the damage Matt did to my neck. There were multiple dark bruises that I now had to learn how to cover but I wouldn’t have it any other way.