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7x0 · 2 days ago

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FORCED CHEMISTRY ── .✦ ꒰ gojo s. ꒱

SYNOPSIS: You're exploring a foreign planet with the galaxy's-most-renowned scientist Gojo Satoru as his assistant. Or rather, was, until you were both knocked unconscious.

PAIRING: gojo satoru x afab!reader WORD COUNT: 3.6k ⚠︎ CONTENT WARNINGS: a/b/o dynamics, omegaverse, dubcon, yandere!gojo, mating bites, breeding, knotting, sex pollen, injections

A/N: veeery old repost of one of my more popular fics from 2021 (also crossposted to ao3 so don't be alarmed if you see it under a different alias)! we're so back

Heavy are your footfalls that meet the unyielding terrain of the mysterious planet that’s been on you and your fellow scientists’ radars for quite some time now. You exasperatedly thumb through what’s left of your notes while your lanky boss stretches a foot or so ahead of you, long arms inviting the sky into them. He throws his head back over his shoulder to flash an award-winning smile at you. It drops and forms into a pout when you don’t even dignify him with a look.

“Still mad at me?” he asks.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Yes,” you hiss through your teeth, “Gojo you ruined a significant portion of my field notes with your reckless, thoughtless piloting. Again.”

Gojo’s suddenly in front of you, face leaning into yours. You jump, taken aback at the close proximity in which you can smell the aroma of coffee off of him from the stack of unsalvageable notes you had thrown at his face.

“Y/N.”

“Yes, Gojo?”

“You shouldn’t frown so much. Y’know, they say it takes twenty-six more muscles to frown than it does to smile.” he cheerily singsongs as he pulls at the corners of your lips into a mock smile. You swat his hand away, irritation etched deeply between your brows. “You’re insufferable.”

“You’re gonna get wrinkles the more you keep contorting that pretty face of yours. C’mon, follow my example!” Gojo says as he beams down at you. You continue staring at him with such blatant unamusement that he practically deflates and kicks a rock away dejectedly. He mumbles under his breath, causing you to quirk an eyebrow.

“Have something you want to say?” you inquire before he mumbles again, this time facing away from you.

Whining, he turns to fix puppy-dog eyes on you. “I already said I was sorry…”

You suck in a harsh breath, the irritation rolling off of you in waves. “‘Sorry’ doesn’t cut it you absolute idiot! You knew how important those notes were. I needed those to work off of for Yaga’s report and you just—!”

“What if I told you I already submitted a report for you using the notes you like to just leave around where any old idiot like me can pick them up?” Gojo grins seeing you sigh and rake a hand through your hair.

Before any words could leave your mouth, a bellowing boom shakes the ground somewhere in the distance, acid green liquid spewing high into the air. You both share a glance.

“Adventure awaits, dearest Y/N!” your moron of a boss exclaims before marching onwards towards the source of the booming noise. You follow in his footsteps, trying in vain to match his strides. Why’d the damned bastard have to be so tall?

As you two cautiously approach the area of concern, Gojo quickly throws a set of technologically-advanced headphones at you which you catch effortlessly and immediately wear. Beyond the planet’s flora and fauna that spreads into the horizon, a geyser comes into your line of sight. Another rumble reverberates through the ground as that same liquid from earlier shoots out of the hole. Stabilizing your feet, you continue on alongside your partner.

“Hand me a reinforced test tube,” Gojo tells you in a businesslike manner. “We need a sample of that to bring back to HQ. Stay here.”

You nod solemnly as you place the tube in the waiting palm of his hand, expecting your boss to come bounding back to you excited at the prospect of new material to research.

What you didn’t expect when you went to search for him, was the blow to the back of your head, effectively shutting the lights of your world off, submerging you into total-encompassing darkness.

Your head felt leaden as you tried to raise it with much effort; the rest of your body felt strung out much alike to that of a harp’s strings. It soon clicked that that was due to the spread eagle position you were in, suspended in mid-air, naked, wrists and ankles encircled with sturdy shackles that upon closer inspection (and by that, you mean squinting) seemed to be of extraterrestrial origin. Your senses were overwhelmed with the blinding fluorescent lights that swathed the room you were in, which appeared to be an observational room of sorts if the one-way window is anything to go by. A groan comes from your left, indicating that you were not alone.

You turn to see your superior in a similar predicament as you, his signature high-tech shades nowhere to be seen thus allowing his crystalline blue hues to be bare for all to see. He’s blearily blinking, and just as naked as you are. You couldn’t help the blush that dusts the apples of your cheeks when your eyes trail down his lean body of their own accord.

“So you two are finally awake.”

Your gaze darts around in order to locate the source of the voice until Gojo’s own voice reaches your ears. “Don’t bother. It’s communicating with us via telepathy.”

Bewilderment and puzzlement is soon replaced by anger, and you pull at your shackles fruitlessly. “Who are you and who gave you permission to probe around in my head?” you shout at the glass a few feet away from you.

“Relax, descendant of Gaia. We cannot root around your heads as much as we’d like, however we can translate our thoughts in our own mother tongue into yours within your thick-headed craniums for the convenience of all parties.” The disembodied voice responds, skipping a beat as if to allow that information to be absorbed properly. Your eye twitches at the insult. “We’ll cut to the chase. We have been watching and waiting for you foolish Gaialings to step foot onto our planet and your audacity will not go unpunished. You see, we give you puny humans a new purpose and life here.” Wait— so you and Gojo weren’t the only humans to have attempted to explore this luminous body? Your mind reels with a plethora of questions that get interrupted by mechanical whirrings grating in your ears the louder and closer it comes. You gasp when you see the clawed ends of a robotic contraption clutching two separate syringes of some sort of questionable, red, viscous serum. Gojo remains silent beside you.

“What the hell is this?” you cautiously ask, eyeing the syringe wearily.

“Well, we’re glad you asked,” the mystifying voice coolly states. “That serum will gift you a certain set of new qualities that determine which… class you fall under. You have your alphas— those with either a newfound or amplified domineering disposition and changes to their genitals which may result in a knot at the base, or a knot at the base of a penis that will grow from the vulva when the subject presents. Next are the omegas— the ones who perpetuate the growth of our dearest slaves. They have a tendency to be rare, thus being prized amongst the human population here. Heat cycles affect them greatly, and will accordingly need to be placated by an alpha whose job will be to breed and thus impregnate the omega. The knotting process will ensure a healthy litter of pups to come the next month or so.”

Gojo pipes up. “Do you know how we would present ahead of time?”

“We do not have a surefire way yet to predetermine what category you will fall under, so this will be as exciting a reveal as it will be for you to us. However, we’ve come to find that most females fall under the omega class while the alphas are typically the males; of course this is not true for every case but it is likely that that will be how each of you present.”

“And could you be so kind as to elaborate on the nature of this society you have cultivated for those of our kind?”

There’s a reverberating chuckle before the response that makes your stomach drops comes. “It’s quite the dog-eat-dog world, we’re afraid to say. Alphas fight to the death over the ownership of omegas, omegas try to find ways to off themselves, so on and so forth. Now enough of the chitchat. Let the procedure begin.”

“Wait—!” you start, only for the next words to die within your throat as the sharp tip of the syringe punctures your thigh. You can hear Gojo audibly grit his teeth, and you bite your tongue to curb the scream that threatened to burst forth from your mouth. The pain was immeasurable, white-hot heat that shot all throughout your body ruthlessly.

Suddenly your restraints release you unceremoniously to the floor, Gojo following as his detached as well. Upon contact with the floor, you both begin to convulse, screams of agony and strained noises escaping from two pairs of lips. You could’ve sworn you could feel your DNA rearranging itself to leave room for the serum’s properties to make themselves at home.

The torment the serum put your body under was much too excruciating; excruciating enough for your consciousness to slip away once more and for blackness to fill your vision.

Red. That was all you could see when your eyes groggily opened, and you ponder if you had made it to hell before it registers in your brain that the red was simply the paint that enveloped the ceiling of the new room you were in. You muster the energy to sit up, bouncing slightly atop of what seems to be plush bedding with a plethora of pillows brimming with down.

To your side, a familiar presence can be felt, especially when the owner of said presence shifts around into a sitting position next to you.

You open your mouth to say something as you turn your head only to be met with more nude Gojo.

“Like what you see?” he cheekily asks while wiggling his brows. Before you can answer with a retort he goes on with flapping his lips again. “Actually wait no— don’t answer that. The answer itself is already written all over that cute little face of yours.”

Your eye twitches but the heat rising to the apples of your cheeks betray any and all notion of annoyance your eye twitch showed and you huff as you look away when your bastardly boss winks at you flirtatiously.

Crossing your arms together to hide your breasts along with pulling your knees up to your chest, you speak after a beat or two of silence, suddenly nervous at the potential of the silence stretching on for far too long between you two. “Don’t suppose you have a plan to get out of here, huh?”

“Babycakes, I literally just regained consciousness.” He looks down at himself. “And so did Gojo Jr. it seems.”

You scrunch your face up, shielding your face with your hands. “Eugh, some things are better left unknown Gojo.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. Care to help out your lonely boss a lit— Mmf!” The heart-shaped throw pillow you hurtle at his face comically knocks him back.

You didn’t want to announce it as proudly as Gojo did (due to his admittedly impressive length), but you felt yourself getting wet. The reality of your predicament hadn’t fully dawned on you yet until you replay what the alien explained to you both in your head. Knotting? Breeding…?

The blush returns to your face with twice the ferocity it did before. Did that mean…?

“It’s exactly what you think.” Gojo comments as if he was reading your mind. “Don’t look at me like that— the dawning realization on your face speaks volumes.” he goes on to say, yawning with his long limbs outstretched.

Unfortunately, you weren’t allowed much time to let the prospect of what was to happen sink in in its entirety as some sort of gaseous substance begins to meld with the air of the room. You frown.

“What’s all this?”

Gojo studies the gas with keen eyes for a moment, and says the words you half-expected and were half-afraid to hear. “It’s some sort of sex pollen and also a way to speed up the process of our presentation, I believe.”

“Shit, Gojo what do we do?” you ask in a rising panic.

“I think—” starts Gojo, who gets interrupted by the gas seeping deeply into his lungs, resulting in a coughing fit that wracked his whole body.

You begin having a coughing fit of your own as the gas infiltrates your hyperventilating mouth and nostrils. Your mind was overcome with a haziness that soon developed into one of a burning desire to be claimed and bred, rationale taking a backseat to libido. With a whine, you can feel slick beginning to trickle out of your opening, slowly increasing in volume; your body temperature significantly rising.

So caught up in the heat overtaking your senses and body you were, that you failed to notice the growing feral presence in the room with you until your half-lidded eyes locked with ones with pupils blown so wide that only a ring of darkened blue was left.

Panting even more, a louder attention-seeking whine escapes your lips, your lust-addled omega brain becoming more and more desperate for the touch and mark of an alpha. “Pl-Please Gojo… Make it stop…” you plead while you shakily snake a hand to your sex in a futile attempt to relieve yourself. His nostrils flare before he has you pinned against the sheets, one large hand smacking your own away from your core.

A low rumble from within his chest that sounds like a possessive growl has you bucking your hips up to meet his angry, leaky cockhead.

“I know baby, you want your cute little cunt stuffed and overflowing with my seed, don’t you?” Gojo coos as he folds your body into a mating press which effectively puts your glistening pussy on display for his hungry eyes to take in in all its beautiful entirety.

You feverishly nod. “Just— Just give it to me already! This is unbearable!”

“I’ll make it all better,” he promises before lining himself up with your desperately clenching entrance; in one swift motion, the tip of his engorged cock meets your cervix, having you howl as you tighten up instinctively.

Gojo’s mouth hangs open and you swipe a slick-coated finger against his bottom lip, to which he graciously licks clean. He moans appreciatively at your taste. “Mmm, fuck— I’m going to cum if you don’t loosen up a little—”

“Isn’t that the whole point of this?” you pant out, the first tendrils of annoyance slithering into you. “Move already.”

“So bossy,” he chuckles. “Your wish is my command.”

He doesn’t waste any time in finding a barbarous rhythm with his thrusts, effectively rendering you unable to do anything but cry out his name and scratch your nails down his toned back, enough so that they left red lines in their wake. Gojo didn’t seem to mind; in fact, it seemed to spur him on even more.

Sweat slid down the vast expanses of both your bodies as praise tumbled out of your alpha’s lips.

“Your scent and taste is so intoxicating—like fresh flowers and vanilla extract—I think I can get drunk off of it alone,” Gojo sighs, cherry red tongue laving up the side of your neck.

You take note of his scent as well, deeming it somewhere between sandalwood and pine. It was heady and stupefying; the type of scent you were sure that would have any omega fall to their knees before him.

He then noses at the junction between your neck and shoulder, and next you’re keening at the scrape of his canines against your flushed flesh. ‘Claim me! Claim me! Claim me!’ screams your mind. You must have said something out loud because Gojo finally stops toying with you and seeks out the perfect spot for a mating bite, teeth piercing and unrelenting even as you whimper over the pain.

Not long after, that pain tangos with the pleasure his cock brings by filling you up again and again. It was a combination of deliciously contrasting sensations that had you seeing pure white— it had your eyes rolling back and your pink tongue lolling out of your mouth.

“God, I never knew you were capable of such a sexy facial expression,” the alpha above you comments in awe as he takes a mental snapshot of the face you were making.

You don’t give a coherent response but Gojo didn’t seem to care. Filth continues spewing from his mouth and you had half a mind to process it all.

“C’mon, I know I haven’t completely fucked you stupid yet. Tell me how much you love this alpha cock.”

“I love, love, love it! Please don’t stop! Gimme more! I want your children!” you babble, incapable of focusing on anything else other than the way your new alpha was breeding you. Your moans only serve to amplify his need to ensure you’d bear his litter the next coming month.

“And who owns this pretty omega pussy?”

“I— Mmmh…”

A slap against your cheek echoes around the four walls you were both imprisoned in, and it clears the fog in your brain just enough for you to answer him back properly when he repeats himself, this time with more of an intense edge.

“You do! You do, Gojo! I need your knot!”

His chest heaves with a growl. “Can’t wait for those teats to fill with milk and that belly of yours to be round and fat with mini-Gojos. You’re going to be such a good mama.”

The alpha before you takes a nipple into his mouth to suck on harshly as a pale hand rises up to give attention and knead at your other breast. “Those little munchkins better share mama’s milk cause daddy has an appetite too,” he makes known after he stops playing with your sensitive bud in his mouth with a ‘pop!’

He then licks his way from your breast, to his mating mark, then to your lips; your mouth was already open so the rutting alpha took the opportunity to shove his tongue into it. His lips merge with yours in a searingly passionate kiss that further stimulates the tightening sensation that rested low in your stomach and was on the verge of coming undone any second now.

And then it happens.

Slim hips stutter in their pursuit to attain their high, their owner quickly pushing the fuller part of the base of his cock into you. It was a mildly burning but not unwelcome stretch that made you definitively lose it.

Your body seizes up as immense pleasure overrides any thought you have made prior to its arrival, and your toes start to curl while your wet walls lock down on the cock that doesn’t cease in penetrating you over and over, coaxing the rest of your orgasm out of you. Stars dance across your vision, your breasts rise and fall with a regularity, and you still find it in you to emit a cry when the bulbous knot inside of you increases in its breadth.

Gojo leans down to rest his forehead against yours, sweat mingling with yours and rosy pink lips agape as he shares breaths with you.

“How do you feel?” comes his concerned voice.

Your eyes flicker down to where your bodies meet, before connecting with his gaze again.

“Satisfied. And full.” comes your answer.

He smiles and gives you a fleeting kiss with adoration for you—his new lifelong partner—shining through his eyes.

You were elated at your union with the alpha being successful, and you mewl at how copious amounts of cum are driven into your womb, making Gojo smile wider as he rocks into you back and forth slowly, making sure his seed takes.

The mating process had taken a toll on your now exhausted body and soon, your eyelids flutter closed. Scenes of domesticity in your near future begin playing in your mind as you think one last thought before a deep slumber engulfs you: ‘Maybe life as an omega here wouldn’t be so bad, as long as I have the universe’s greatest scientist turned alpha—my alpha—alongside me.’

“What’s the meaning of this? We had a deal you conniving Gaialing!”

“Your first mistake was thinking you could negotiate fairly with Gojo Satoru.” states one of the special grade soldiers currently holding the lead extraterrestrial at gunpoint.

“And your second,” another chimes in, “was finalizing a deal with Gojo Satoru.” She grinds the sole of her combat boot into one of the lifeless alien’s faces that lay in front of her.

“Right Gojo?” one more speaks with a shit-eating grin.

The man in question mirrors his grin as he stands with his hands in his lab coat pockets behind the soldiers, pleased that everything went according to plan and that his trusted team of mercenaries triumphed over the natives of the planet that underestimated humans.

He thinks about how you, his now precious omega sleeping soundly in his arms bridal-style, was his first rejection. How you refused his confession, preferring to keep the relationship between you two plainly professional. But he knew. He knew you had feelings for him, and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

Catching wind of what the aliens on this planet were up to had to have been the best intel he’d ever received, and he’d have to thank Mei Mei for that.

“Give us your word, sir.”

Gojo starts to walk towards the spaceship waiting outside for him and his team, speaking in a commanding tone as he does so.

“Leave no alien behind and meet me outside in five.”

He looks down at you with nothing but love. You looked so serene, and you were at the very least subconscious of your alpha’s presence because you snuggle in closer into the comfort of Gojo’s chest.

Finally, he had you where he wanted you, and the wicked smirk on his face was evidence of that.

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gojover · 3 days ago

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you, again — teaser

summary ⇢ he’s an assassin who won’t stop bleeding. you’re the medic who keeps patching him up—against your better judgement. sylus flirts like it’s a sport; you threaten him with scalpels. when a botched job entangles you in his world, things get messy fast—emotionally, and otherwise. you’d rather die than fall for a man like him. he’s already dying not to fall for you.

pairing ⇢ assassin!sylus qin x medic!fem!reader contains ⇢ romance, angst, smut, slow burn, annoyances to lovers au, assassin au, blood, injuries, violence. full warnings to be included in the fic. teaser word count ⇢ 0.36k (expected: 15k-17k)

“You okay?” he asks suddenly, tilting his head to glance down at you. His voice is quieter now, less performative.

You shrug. “Just thinking.”

“Dangerous habit,” he says. “Try not to develop too many of those.”

“Too late. I already treat you like a human being.”

He laughs at that. “Touché.”

You fall into silence again, footsteps syncing easily as you cross another intersection. You’re close to home now, and the streets are darker here, the kind of dark that stretches long and holds its breath. You catch the edge of a shadow out of the corner of your eye, but it disappears when you turn to look. Maybe a cat. Maybe nothing. Still, your fingers tense in your coat pocket, brushing against the cheap folding knife you started carrying a few months ago. Just in case.

Sylus doesn’t seem bothered. But he hasn’t stopped scanning the streets. “You should just move in with me.”

“What for?” you ask lightly, though you know why.

“I can keep you safe,” he answers.

You blink. The wind picks up between the buildings, rattling a loose sign overhead. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barks once, sharp, before falling silent.

It’s suddenly way too easy to remember that you know almost nothing about him. That all your time together has been fluorescent-lit and bloodstained. That he always shows up with new bruises and never says where they came from. You slow when your building comes into view.

“This is me,” you say, nodding towards the stoop.

He stops behind you and doesn’t follow. For a second, you expect him to say something—maybe a joke, maybe a goodbye—but instead, he’s just looking at you. Really looking at you, like he’s memorising something he’s not sure he’ll get to see again.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he says finally. “Not these days.”

You frown. “Why? What’s happening?”

Sylus doesn’t answer. Just steps back once and gives you a tired, crooked smile. “Goodnight, doc.”

Then he turns and disappears into the dark like he’s part of it. You climb the stairs, unlock your door, and double-check the locks; then, you watch the street out of your bedroom window long after he’s gone.

a/n: hello! thank you so much for checking out my teaser! if you’d like to be tagged in the full fic, please send an ask/comment & make sure you have an age indicator on your blog. thank you, also, for 2,000+ followers! it’s insane that there are so many of you here with me, supporting my writing, and i am so grateful to every single one of you 💌

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invincibledc · 2 days ago

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⋆˙⟡#HEATING PAD ⋆˙⟡

⋆˙⟡ KOLE ANDERS (OC) X BATSIB!READER⋆˙⟡

SUMMARY: when your body hurts so bad, you have to call your personal heater.

GENRE: period comfort/hurt comfort, fluff

INFO: this OC is an OC I’ve written for my own amusement. He’s the adoptive son of Kori/Starfire. Full HUMAN name, Kole Anders. His Tamaranean name is Koldond'r. Reader is the twin sibling of Damian, but Damian is the older twin of course. Im only a writer so you can imagine who he looks more like but all I can is he is handsome canonically, plus freakishly tall like a Tamaranean should be.

WORD COUNT: 654

Body aching, you feel like shit. Complete dog shit as you lay on your bed, bandages flooded across your body as you tried to move.

Wincing—you feel your abdomen be the worst of the pain ever. It keeps coming and coming, discomfort written all over your face. You groaned loudly annoyed.

“This is such bullshit!” You exclaimed angrily, training with your twin brother is not for the weak. Sure you both are ex-assassins, but Damian is a fucking beast! You aren’t much about that life til you are extremely pissed off.

Alfred helped patch you up the best he could ever do, which is always his best. But damn, laying down as of now, staring at the ceiling—you wish to die cause why the hell were you in so much pain for.

So you called the only thing you could, your heater.

☀︎

Kole was at his home, his blazing green eyes watching his adoptive mother, Kori, clean the kitchen as they talked in their native language about dinner. Thinking about bringing some zorkaberries from Tamaran for dessert. As Kole gets excited about the decision, his phone rings. He gets from the bar stool, pulling his phone out to see the name “Y/N” with a pink heart close to it. He frowns with worry as he answers it.

“Hello?”

“Anders..” your voice is what made him alert as he immediately started to float with wide green eyes. Kory looks worried as she knows how much he cares for you, he goes over to a window and opens it quickly.

Not wasting time—he flew. “Don’t talk. I am on the way to get to you.” He hangs up leading you to scrunch up your face.

“The fuck?” You said softly, not seeing a red-haired boy with curly fiery hair burst into your room. You jolt at the loud crashing and the tall buff teenage male whose body is tense.

“W-WOAH!” You yelled as Kole just shook his head from the glass and turned to you. “WHO do I need to harm for your safety!” He screams with a warrior's voice.

“Kole! No one, I’m fine dude!” You sat up, only to be flinching at the pain in your stomach. You then fell back with a whine.

Kole could only frown, and move closer to you, “You are not well. Is this because of someone?” He says softly, despite the hidden rage ready to be unleashed for you.

“Well yes but no—”

“Name.” He interrupts with a low voice.

“Let me finish.” You said with a pointed look, pointing to him weakly as he pouted and sat on the bed. Nodding for you to finish your words.

“Thank you. No one harmed me intentionally, it was just training between me and Damian. And I’m hurting like a bitch. So.. can you like.. be my heating pad?”

You said with a small grin, Kole gave you a slow blink like a cat before he tilted his head confusingly. “Heating.. pad?”

“Yeah, like you just lay on me like this—” You pulled his tall body over you, his face hovering over yours. He breathed softly as he gazed over your bandaged face and your small smile. “You can just lay on me like this, maybe place your hand on my stomach?” Kole slowly obeys, putting his heavy hand on your abdomen.

His warm hand feels so good, that it makes you let out a soft sigh, reveling in it while closing your eyes.

Kole then lays his head down on your chest when he feels comfortable, he gently rubs your stomach up and down. To make sure you felt fully comfortable—and you sure did as you fell asleep quickly. Kole glanced his full green eyes up to your face, a blank face before he smiled gently.

He soon closed his eyes as well, holding you close as he made sure nothing could disturb your peace.

He’s your sweet heater.

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matchlatt · 3 days ago

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MORE BAKUGO IM LITERALLY DESPERATE ON MY KNEES FOR YOU

AFTER WORK WITH DAD!KATSUKI

synopsis — pro hero dynamight comes home from work to see his wife, 5 year old son, and his cat

word count — 1.3k

a/n — GIRL I GOTCHU HAHAHAHAH ANYWAYS THIS ONE HAS BEEN ON MY MIND FOR A WHOLE LMAOO

The sun was already beginning to set, casting a warm, golden hue over the Bakugo’s household.

The lights inside were soft and cozy, the living room half littered with tiny action figures, crayon drawings taped proudly on the wall, and a small, fluffy tabby cat curled up on top of the backrest of the couch, tail flickering with mild disinterest

The front door creaked open and in stepped Pro Hero Dynamight, still in partial gear, his gauntlets off and the collar of his hero suit unzipped enough to reveal a bit of sweat-slicked skin and tension across his muscles.

Katsuki Bakugo let out a low grunt as he shut the door behind him, the exhaustion of the day still clinging to his body like the grime from battle.

But then-

“Tch.”

His nose twitched.

“Smells like curry,” he muttered, voice softer now, almost…fond.

He dropped his bag by the entrance and toed off his boots, the sound of sizzling in the kitchen pulling a small, crooked smirk on his face. He moved through the house with ease, pausing only to ruffle the cat’s head in passing.

“Oi, fuzzball,” he mumbled to the cat. “You better not be climbin’ the curtains again.”

The cat meowed lazily, entirely unbothered.

In the kitchen, you stood barefoot in pajama pants and an oversized tee, humming quietly while stirring the curry pot. Katsuki leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you with a blank look.

“How long have you been home?” he asked in a rough voice around the edges,

You turned with a smile that made something in his chest ease immediately. “Just an hour ago. How was work?”

“Annoying,” he muttered. “Dumbass villain tried to rob a candy store. A candy store.”

You snorted and turned off the stove. “That poor candy shop owner,” you teased. “Imagine getting screamed at by Dynamight over some stolen lollipops.”

“Damn right,” he smirked, walking over and wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in. “Smelled this shit halfway down the block.”

He paused. “Miss you,” he said in a quieter tone.

Your hand came up to run through his messy, ash-blond hair. “You always say that when you’re hungry.”

“Both kinds,” he muttered against your skin, lips brushing lightly over your shoulder.

Just as things were about to turn a little steamier–

“MOM!”

Katsuki groaned and pulled away, already scowling.

The tiny stampede of footsteps echoed down the hallway before your five-year-old burst into the kitchen like a one-man army. Tousled blond hair that matched his father’s, wide crimson eyes full of fire, and the same scowl permanently etched into his chubby face.

“Mama! Guess what happened at school today!” he shouted, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the living room with more strength than a toddler should have.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” you laughed, shooting Katsuki an apologetic look as you followed. “What happened?”

“I punched Daichi ‘cause he said cats are stupid!”

“Oi—what?!” Katsuki stomped in. “What the hell kinda dumbass logic is that?! You can’t just go punchin’ kids, brat!”

“He started it!” the boy huffed, arms crossed, looking so much like his father you could barely keep a straight face. “He said ‘only girls like cats’ and that boys should like dogs!”

“That's stupid,” you said calmly, kneeling down to ruffle your son’s hair. “But next time, use your words, not your fists.”

“He did use his words, right before he decked the other kid,” Katsuki grumbled, arms folded, glaring at the tiny version of himself.

“’Cause words are slow,” your son shot back.

“You little—!”

The cat chose this moment to leap up onto the arm of the couch and meow loudly, effectively ending the argument. Your son turned and gently picked her up, his tiny face softening instantly.

“Mama, look! Neko-chan missed me.”

Katsuki muttered under his breath, “I bet she was hoping’ for peace and quiet.”

You watched with a fond smile as your son began talking to you about everything he did at school, from painting to snack time to how he could totally climb the jungle gym without help now. All the while, Katsuki stood off to the side, getting progressively more annoyed that his wife was being hogged.

At one point, he leaned in toward you, trying to slide an arm around your waist.

Your son slapped his hand away. “No! I’m telling Mama something important.”

Katsuki gritted his teeth. “She’s my damn wife, you little shit.”

“She’s my Mama!”

“She was mine first-”

“Go shower, Dynamight,” you said calmly, not looking up from the story your son was weaving. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Tch. Fine.” Katsuki turned to leave, growling low, “It’s like talking’ to a wall.”

“Love you too, babe.”

He paused and looked over his shoulder. You caught the faint pink dusting his ears before he disappeared down the hall.

Later that evening, the house was quieter.

Your son had finally settled in his room, already snoring softly with the cat curled up by his feet. His little lamp glowed with a soft orange hue, illuminating the scribbled drawings of you, Katsuki, and him all holding hands under a wonky sun.

In the master bedroom, you were curled up against the headboard, book in hand, glasses perched on your nose. The door to the bathroom creaked open, and Katsuki stepped out, a towel draped around his shoulders, steam rolling off his skin.

He ran a hand through his damp hair and padded barefoot over to the bed, crawling in beside you in just a pair of low-slung sweatpants. The scent of your shampoo from earlier was still on his skin.

“Kid asleep?”

“Out cold,” you said, flipping a page. “I think he wore himself out arguing with you.”

“Good.”

He reached over and gently tugged the book from your hands, closing it with one hand and tossing it to the nightstand.

“Hey—”

“You had your moment. Now it’s mine.”

You didn’t protest when he pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your neck again, this time with a little sigh that told you exactly how much he’d needed this.

“Don’t say it,” you murmured with a smile.

“Say what?”

“That you missed me.”

“I wasn’t gonna say it,” he grumbled. “I was just gonna touch you a little.”

You giggled and tilted your head back so you could look at him. “Touch me, huh?”

He leaned in and kissed you, soft and slow. None of the fire and explosions the world knew him for. Just warmth. Home. Familiarity.

“You’re the only fuckin’ thing that makes the noise go quiet, y’know?” he said lowly, thumb stroking your cheek.

You reached up and brushed his damp bangs from his forehead. “And you’re the only one who puts up with our mini you throwing tantrums.”

“He gets the yelling from you.”

“Tch.”

There was a moment of silence. His hand slipped beneath your shirt, resting on the curve of your waist, nothing lewd, just comfort. You both lay there, the sound of your son’s faint snores carrying through the baby monitor and the occasional thump of the cat exploring the hallway.

“Still think we’re doing’ okay?” you asked quietly.

Katsuki’s voice was firm. “No one’s got what we’ve got.”

You nodded.

The cat slipped into your room then, hopping up at the foot of the bed and curling into a warm little ball. Katsuki looked down at her and muttered, “Traitor.”

You laughed, rolling into him. “Face it. Everyone loves me the most.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“You’re lucky I love you even when you say dumb shit like that.”

You kissed his jaw and whispered, “Love you too, Kats.”

And for the first time that day, Katsuki Bakugo truly relaxed—wrapped up in his two favorite people, a sassy cat, and the one place that felt like peace.

Home.

#crystarq #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia x y/n #my hero academia x you #my hero academia fluff #mha #mha x y/n #mha x you #mha x reader #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugo x y/n

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c4hr4yz3e · 3 days ago

Text

Puppy Love - George Clarke Drabble

George Clarke x Reader

_____________________________________________

The second you step through the threshold of your cosy apartment something in the air feels tense. Not a harsh or dark tense, more like the kind of tense you get waiting for someone to blow out their birthday cake candles.

Stepping quietly through the hallway, you shed your coat and bag. The quick scurry of claws against the floorboards softly sounds through the flat before stopping abruptly. Growing curiouser, you hung your coat on its hook and placed your bag in its cubby, moving to peak out into the living room.

Nothing.

Huh.

Brushing loose hair from your eyes, you wander further into the room, walking to the fridge to grab a well-deserved drink. Choosing a seltzer can, you cracked it open and brought it to your lips, closing your eyes as the first sip hit your tongue.

As you relaxed a little, you immediately caught sight of a familiar mop of curly brown hair just sticking out from beside the armchair of the couch. Leaning over the kitchen counter, George came into view. He was kneeling on the floor, huddled close to the couch with his hands bracing against the fabric to keep himself steady. A giddy, excited smile ghosted his face.

“Um, what are you doing?”

George’s eyes dart over to you, smiling widely to greet you before holding finger to his lips.

You stood confused until the returning scurry of paws against the floor stole your attention. Your dog ran into the room, head looking in every direction as she practically spun in circles. She looked around the room before collapsing in defeat.

Looking to George, you watched as he let out a quick whistle. Your dog’s ears immediately perked up and she jumped to her feet. She ran further into the living room, searching under the coffee table and sniffing the air. Bowing her head to sniff under the couch, she quickly straightened and rounded the furniture in a sprint. When she finally spotted George, her tail wagged wildly, seemingly propelling her through the air as she jumped into his waiting arms.

“Good girl! You found me, you clever girl!” George showered the dog with pats and praise, laughing as she attempted to lick all over his face.

Oh, my gosh.

"You guys were playing hide and seek?" You couldn't help the bubble forming in your chest upon seeing how much your dog loved George.

"And she's getting so good at it, aren't you, girl?" His baby voice was strong as he spoke to the dog, ruffling her ears playfully.

He looked up at you from the floor, the most infectious grin making his eyes crinkle. Seeing him smiling so happily as your dog bounded around him excitedly was just what you needed after your gruelling day.

With a final ruffle of her fur, George stood up, resting his hands on his hips. "I think we're ready for another round, huh girl?"

Your dog sat at his feet, adorably panting up at him.

"Okay, stay," he spoke with an intent that showed you he'd been at this a while. Training your dog to play hide and seek. How cute.

Without taking his eyes off the dog he backstepped to stand beside you, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers.

"Stay."

He led you with him as he walked backwards, smile unwavering.

"Good girl." After making sure she was concealed by the couch, unable to see you both, George turned and pulled you down the hallway with him.

He yanked your arm to hide beside him as he crouched on the floor against the far side of the bed, out of sight from the doorway.

Sneaking a kiss to your cheek, your boyfriend smiled lovingly at you, "Welcome home, my love, I forgot to say. How was your day?"

"You're going to ask mid hide-and-seek?" you couldn't contain the giggles that escaped at the prospect - you were really playing hide and seek with your dog.

"Well, better late than never." His grin was infectious. "Come!"

It didn't register until you heard the scurry of paws that you realised he was calling your dog.

You laughed quietly to yourselves, listening intently as the claws against the floorboards and panting floated through the flat.

Nestled against each other in your hiding positions, you allowed your head to fall against your boyfriend's shoulder, sighing contently as his familiar scent enveloped you and his hoodie cushioned your face. A soft smile etched George's face as he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, thumb swiping gently across your hand that he had yet to let go of.

You hadn't expected to play hide and seek with your boyfriend and dog when you came home from work, but it turned out to be everything you needed.

#george clarke x reader #george clarkey x reader #george clarkey x y/n #ukyt #george clarke fluff #george clarke

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dadvans · 6 hours ago

Text

naive melody redux. [bucktommy]

“Your hands are shaking,” Evan says.

Tommy looks down. It’s the slightest tremor. He has no fucking clue how Evan noticed, eyes half swollen shut from crying, tears still flowing freely, mixing with snot every fruitless time he wipes at his face.

“Yeah.” He gulps, swallows. Looks back up at Evan. “I—“

And that’s where the words stop.

Evan nods and folds in on himself again.

The thing is: Tommy is sad, devastated even. Bobby had been the first person in a long time to come along and find that one last fire burning inside him and coax it back to life. Bobby had believed in him, was the guy to give him the chance he’d needed to live the kind of life he never believed he deserved on his own. But he’s long burned out his ability to cry from grief. He hasn’t done that in a long time. Cried when he’s angry? Sure. Cried at Pixar movies? Absolutely, and fuck all the way off if you ask him to watch a movie where the dog dies, because that’s an embarrassingly sure thing. But he doesn’t cry in a meaningful way, ever.

But Tommy looks at Evan and he’s fucking terrified. So, his hands are shaking.

“When they clear us,” he tries again, voice steadier than the rest of him, “let me take you home.”

“Tommy, I, I really don’t think—“ Evan’s voice is gummy, throat thick, and it almost sounds like he wants to laugh or desperately pick a fight that’s already left him. Fair.

“For my peace of mind, please,” Tommy continues, every bit as desperate as he feels, before trying to reel it back in, soft and neutral. “I don’t even have to be there in any real way, I won’t say a word, I’ll sleep on your”—shitty fucking, he does not say—“couch, just. I need to know you made it through the night.”

Evan sniffs and tries to hide another sluggish run of tears by tucking his face into the crook of his arm.

“Maddie’s going to be with Howie in the hospital. Athena—she’s going to be the last one out, and then she has the ugly business no one ever wants to deal with when the person they love the most dies. Maybe you’d rather stay with Hen and Karen, their family, or Ravi. That’s fine. But, Evan. I can’t let you be alone.”

Evan exhales ragged and wet, raw with grief in a way Tommy has been jealous of in the past, because in every other time that mattered, it would have meant Evan seeing all of him. Could have made the difference, maybe, Evan knowing the ugly parts of him early enough. It’s a thought he doesn’t have now, will realize never had broken the thick, in-the-moment surface fear, later.

“Okay,” Evan says, and Tommy feels a part of him steady. “You’re right. Okay.”

Getting back to Evan’s is a hassle and a half, between an impounded truck and a stolen helicopter. Tommy lets Evan sign for his keys and pay for the release, but drives them back to Eddie’s old house.

Someone should call Eddie, he thinks, suddenly. He may still have irrational thoughts about Eddie having some purchase on Evan, but he would trust Eddie with Evan’s grief. He knows Eddie has the kind of strength that could keep Evan safe, were Eddie here. That they would have each other, might prefer it even.

He parks in the driveway. The drive was silent, just the sound of the early morning cross-sections of highways and roads in the uneasy, liminal hour where Los Angeles isn’t quite awake but still not quite asleep. He steadies his grip on the lower curve of the steering wheel and concentrates on the leather, parked waiting for Evan to move, say anything, even.

“I don’t know what to do,” Evan says, finally.

“Okay.”

“If you weren’t here— I don’t know what I would do.”

Oh. “Then I’m glad I’m here.”

Evan gets out of the truck. Tommy waits two beats, then joins him. Follows him to the door and hands over the keys so Evan can let them both inside.

Evan flips on the lights in a way he was too careless, too out of his mind—and Tommy stops that train of thought—to do, the last time they both stumbled into this house. The place is a little more put together, a lot more unpacked, but still wanting in the way nothing is fully put away and there are broken down boxes stacked against walls, painters tape half-rolled to line the trim of two walls in anticipation of a fresh coat before being half-heartedly forgotten, the entire roll still attached and laying on the floor with a little dust on top. Tommy does not think of all the other versions of them being here together again, the teasing things he would say to make Evan smile, what he would comment on first in an attempt to make Evan feel known, seen, unconsciously and openly loved.

“You should shower,” he says instead.

“I’m so tired,” Evan replies, just standing there.

The thing is: Evan doesn’t look aimless. He looks like he’s resisting certain directions. I can’t let you be alone, Tommy had said. I don’t know what I would do, Evan had said, and Tommy feels haunted by both.

“Shower, I promise,” Tommy says, trying to navigate them both around it. He guides Evan by the shoulders to where he remembers the bathroom is, both from the times he spent here with Eddie and the last, late night he’d had with Evan, where he’d half-drunk and smugly rolled a condom off his dick in the dark and threw it in the trash and took the longest, happiest piss of his life thinking about the guy threatening him with “round two” ten feet away on a bare mattress.

Evan likes his showers hot, Tommy remembers. Tommy does not. But, he remembers, the rare moments where he has. Those moments overseas in the ugly beginning of the millennium when he first learned how to lose people, the showers when he was deployed were always either boiling hot or ice cold with zero in-between, and he treasured the way both convinced him he could skin himself raw.

He gets Evan in the shower, extra hot. Evan says nothing of the temperature, just stands underneath it like it will bleach him clean, and Tommy hopes Evan never gets to the point where he lets it. He climbs in after. They’re both naked, obviously, and really need the wash, but Tommy can’t think of even a terrible one-night stand with a mutual shower so sexless. He scrubs Evan down thoroughly, then himself. He rinses a washcloth under the spray and then uses it to wipe at Evan’s face, the way his mom used to when he was little, sweeping, clinical motions, right-to-left, left-to-right, Mr. Miyagi wax-on, wax-off style. Right hand sweeping under Evan’s raw nose, left hand pushing back Evan’s wet curls, fingers tracing down the midline of his skull just to make sure he’s still real and alive.

Tommy’s fine with just swapping places for a quick rinse of his own as long as he gets to borrow Evan’s deodorant. He sweeps Evan up in a fresh towel that was thankfully folded away into the built-in shelf after.

“I know you hate going to sleep with wet hair,” he says, a little helpless, brushing down Evan’s shoulder blades with the thing while he, himself, drips an obnoxious amount on the designer bathmat he used to make fun of back when Evan lived at the loft.

“I don’t want to go to sleep,” Evan replies. Sleep means you wake up to a new day, the first day when someone is dead the way they weren't the day before, Tommy remembers. He doesn't say anything, works the towel around to Evan's chest, hears his own knees crack crouching to get at Evan’s thighs and calves in a way that doesn’t feel sexual, only too aware of how Evan's always complained when he's soaked through sweats, jeans, blankets—anything, really, that gets damp when he’s too impatient coming out of the shower. “I don’t think I can.”

“That’s okay, too. You want to put on a movie? TV show, podcast? You can relax on your”—awful, nightmare—“couch, too.”

Tommy stands back up, towel with him, wrapping around Evan’s shoulders and sweeping down the meat of his biceps.

“It doesn’t feel like it now, because I know from experience, uh, nothing feels possible in times like these,” he tries, determinedly not staring Evan in the face.

Nearly a year ago Evan had been so wrecked by Bobby’s heart attack, called him the dad I never had. Had let Tommy fuck him for the first time, slow and intimate in a way that had previously sent Tommy running for the hills with other guys, but Evan had said, please, I just need to feel something, something good, and Tommy had wanted to be so badly something good for him. Still does, most days.

His hands shake on Evan's shoulders now, but he keeps talking, says, “But you’re going to crash the second something gives. Put on something clean. Get comfy. Your back will thank you.”

Buck stares up at him, just the slightest amount. Sea-blue eyes, deceptively deep, red-rimmed in a way that makes Tommy’s own hurt.

“Could you hold me? Just my weight, even, it doesn’t have to be— you were right, I’m worried the second I’m left to my own devices, I’ll split into a thousand pieces, whatever that means,” he admits, and then does the unthinkable thing, leaning face first with his forehead resting against Tommy’s wet clavicle, his mouth breathing weak and hitched against Tommy’s chest.

“Of course,” Tommy says. In any way. In every way. Whatever you need. As long as you want.

+ Addtl thoughts:

Before I go crazy and disappear back into the adulthood ether! Was thinking thoughts of Tommy enjoying something as a kid, maybe he had a soft caramel once that he snuck and no one was around, and he was able to savor it, he let it sit in his mouth for a long time and let it melt thick and sweet on his tongue, like a little secret he had with himself. And that's how he thinks of taking care of Buck when they're together, he makes avocado toast, he makes brunch, he LOVES taking care of Buck, it's this self-indulgent stupid thing he does for himself, allowing himself to DOTE and to CARE and to be vulnerable in this way that might come across as maternal that he's prevented himself as acting on for so long. He wants to love Buck so badly! But he also wants to love Buck via AFFECTION, wants to SHOW Buck he's loved, and that's so compatible with meeting Buck's needs of feeling like he's never enough, he's been told plenty of times that he's loved, worthy of love, but he's not important enough to care about or see that love realized.

Think about the one person Buck has ever felt has truly loved him, cared for him, despite everything, the father he's never had, dying and telling him he loved him, then telling him to leave. Buck is always left, in the end, being told he is worthy of love, but is never enough for anyone to stay.

Think about Tommy wanting to be enough for Buck, loving life with Buck so much that Buck realizes he wants to stay. Think about Tommy, for the first time, Buck feel like he's worth it.

#bucktommy #911 abc #911 spoilers #delaney writes

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i-messed-up-big-time · 1 day ago

Text

Someone Precious I

Caleb x Non MC Reader

a/n: guys pls dkm ive never been to a party so when you read that pls give me the benefit of the doubt 😭, also i don't really want to go into too much detail about any of the explicit scenes that are implied, but there may be a possibility of one more detailed in the other parts! i'm finally free from uni guys so i have more time to do some writing! i finally got around to finishing this (i started right before my finals) hopefully you guys like this first part!

Divider creds @/cafekitsune

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, reader is female and is AFAB, mentions of pregnancy, implied intimate relations (not going into detail), pet names used, mentions of drinking/getting drunk (pls drink responsibly), reader throws up, idk what other tags to add!

word count: 2.4k

masterlist

series masterlist

taglist: @aneertawrites @eurydiceknowshesloved @angelichiaro @nommingonfood @ynovaes @animegamerfox

You had known them for years, albeit you joined the infamous duo a little later than when they had met each other, but you all were as thick as theives.

Countless days and nights spent together. More often than not if one of you guys were somewhere, the other two were not far behind.

At first you didn't notice that the way you felt about Caleb was something more than just a friend, how could you? You were just a naive child at the time.

That all changed when Caleb went to high school. You started noticing certain things about him, the way his eyes twinkled when he smiled, how good he looked when he was playing basketball.

You soon were able to put a name to those thoughts and feelings, love. It was like you were exposed to whole new world, everything he did caught your attention and pulled you deeper into that black hole called love.

If only you knew how much pain and turmoil this man would bring to your life.

●・○・●・○・●・

It was near the end of your final year in university when it all happened.

You being the ever delusional girl you were always thought that the fleeting touches and eye contact between you and Caleb were something special, something unique to just the two of you.

How could you ever know that he only ever had one person in his sights, one that wasn't you.

You and MC were getting ready to go to a party, it was meant to be the last one of the year and before graduation.

MC had to beg you to come with her this one last time.

"C'mon it'll be so much fun! It'll be our last party before we graduate! Please?"

You couldn't really say no to her when she pulled out the puppy dog eyes.

Outwardly, it looked like you were reluctant, but on the inside you were kind of happy to go. Part of it was because you heard from the grapevine that Caleb might be there since some of his friends were going.

Which leads you to your current dilemma, what outfit to wear. You opted to wear a dark blue dress that reached up to your mid thigh. It was a new dress that had been sitting in the back of your closet for some time, now it finally had the chance to see the light of day.

"Hurry up or we're gonna be late!"

You heard MC yell for you.

"I'm coming!"

You responded, hopping around on one foot trying to strap your shoe onto your foot.

Once you successfully had it strapped to your foot, you quickly made your way out the door with MC.

●・○・●・○・●・

The party was in full swing by the time you guys made it there.

You made a beeline for the drinks, wanting to get some water in your system before anything else.

You spotted MC dancing with this one guy she's been talking to recently. He was a sweet guy who was in the same program as her, infamous for being asleep more often than awake. Seeing him at a party was kind of a surprise, but he probably came here because MC said she would be there.

'Looks like I'm gonna be alone tonight.'

You let out a heavy sigh with that thought. Yeah you heard some rumours that Caleb was gonna be there, but you had yet to spot him.

As if the gods above heard your thoughts, he entered your line of vision.

It's like every time you see him he just looks better than before. He was with his friend Gideon as they chatted up the guys who were hosting this party.

It wasn't long before he made spotted you. He made his way over to you with a bright smile.

"Shouldn't you be out there on the dance floor instead of brooding next to the drinks table?"

He reaches out to ruffle your hair, which not only makes you pout but also blush at the contact.

"Hey stop messing up my hair!"

You exclaim as you pull out your phone to start fixing it, Caleb can only laugh as he reaches out again but this time to help you.

You're so glad the lights in here are dim, cause your face was as red as a tomato.

"There, better?"

You gave yourself a once over in the camera and nodded in agreement, the words not coming out.

You turned to Caleb to ask him if he wanted to dance but the words died in your throat before you could even try.

There he stood with his gaze zeroed in on something, you followed it and noticed he had his sights set on MC and Xavier. If it was anyone else they wouldn't have noticed the way his brows furrowed, but because it was you, you noticed.

You always did, you just chose to ignore it because you knew that MC didn't feel anything for him aside from a love that you feel for family.

Unbeknownst to you, she was well aware of the crush you had on Caleb, silently supporting you from the sidelines. She knew you didn't want to make things awkward by admitting it out loud, but sometimes she wishes you would tell her so she could openly support you.

●・○・●・○・●・

A couple of hours had passed and you were buzzed.

You and MC were on the dance floor having some fun, that's when you felt those hands on your hips. Turning around you saw it was Caleb, your heart was running a mile minute.

You looked over your shoulder to look for MC but she was nowhere in sight, you took this as your sign to enjoy the moment.

Your poor naive heart thought this was the moment that maybe Caleb actually would look at just you.

Little did you know that this moment would lead to a series of events that would forever change your life.

●・○・●・○・●・

Your body felt sore, and suspiciously cold. Opening your eyes you were greeted with the familiar sheets of your bed, the only thing was that you were in it bare.

Sitting up you felt the ache increase tenfold, both in your head and in your back.

You sifted through your memories to try and understand what happened when it came crashing into you all at once.

'I slept with Caleb.'

You pushed yourself of the bed only to fall to your knees, you felt weak and it was definitely due to your activities from last night.

You were all giddy inside thinking maybe you might be able to take a step in a different direction with Caleb.

That's when you noticed it, the bright sticky note on your bedside table,

I'm sorry, it was a mistake.

It was like fate was laughing in your face, your world came crashing down on you.

You weren't stupid, you know what he meant. You had just a little bit of hope, but even that proved futile.

"Am I not good enough?"

You let the tears slip, steady and silent streams. But you didn't let yourself cry for too long, you needed to get up and move on.

Easier said than done.

You pushed yourself to go clean up and change your sheets, wanting nothing more than to occupy your mind with other things, and to an extent it worked.

Until you were back in bed, that's when you started crying again. Only this time, you were sobbing loudly and it was loud enough to alert your roommate of your distress.

MC came barging in, quickly reaching your side to comfort you.

A very small part of you was jealous of her, and you hated that. She was your best friend, someone who always was there for you and wanted the best for you.

Knowing that she had the one thing you so desperately wanted hurt, but not enough to let it come between your friendship. You valued her presence too much in your life, you just hoped she would still feel the same about you with what you were about to tell her.

●・○・●・○・●・

MC had joined you under the covers after you finished laying your heart bare in front of her, she never once cut you off, said anything or made any reaction aside from a look of understanding and hurt.

She was in no way hurt by your words but rather hurt at the situation, she had totally believed that Caleb was into you, dare she say obsessed with you. She saw the looks and the lingering touches that were exchanged between you two.

She thought it would all work out with time, who knew Caleb would screw it all up. Not just that, but you were under the impression that he was in love with her.

She didn't want to downplay your feelings and thoughts, as a woman she understood. She could only be there for you and show you just how wrong you were, she was determined.

You had fallen asleep a little while ago. You were utterly heartbroken and had been non stop crying as you talked, MC's heart went out to you.

You were her sister, her twin, blood relations or not, she valued you more than anything in the world. She never felt like she was only child, you and Caleb were the siblings she always wanted, she'd be damned if she let Caleb ruin that for you guys.

Little did both of them know, they wouldn't hear from Caleb for almost a year and a half.

●・○・●・○・●・

A month later

It was graduation day.

You and MC have been closer than ever since that day. Caleb had went MIA, not replying to either of you or returning your calls.

You would be lying if you said you still weren't upset about that day and the lack of communication.

'I thought we were thick as thieves but clearly not.'

You were finally graduating, the day you worked so hard for that you made it as Valedictorian of your year.

You were just putting on the final touches of your look when MC came barrelling into your room with her hands behind her back.

She gave you a sly smile before revealing what she had behind her back, a small gift bag.

You laughed as you went to your closet and pulled out a gift bag as well.

You guys were on the same wavelength it seemed.

MC was in shock, you had gotten her that necklace that she had been eyeing a few months back, she even noticed the engraving on it.

My forever sister in every universe

If it wasn't for MC being fully ready to go she would have burst into tears right then and there. She pulled you in for a hug and whispered words of thank you.

She put it on right away, it was the perfect gift for a day like today.

MC handed you the bag she brought. It was also a necklace with an engraving on it. You guys definitely were twin flames, her gift having a similar engraving as yours.

Across galaxies, you're still my sister

Putting on the necklace you pulled MC in for another hug, your heart felt full despite the absence of one particular person, but in that moment nothing mattered but the bond between you and MC.

●・○・●・○・●・

It was nerve wracking giving a speech in front of all those people, but at the same time you had this adrenaline rush pumping through your veins.

The graduation ceremony ended with hats in the air and confetti everywhere.

This marked the end of a chapter and the beginning of a new one.

Only, it would be a chapter filled with experiences you never would have imagined.

●・○・●・○・●・

A week later

You woke up feeling uncomfortable, your throat burned and your stomach felt uneasy. Not even a second after opening your eyes you felt last night's dinner making an appearance the same way it went in.

You bolted to the bathroom and emptied the contents of your stomach into the toilet.

You probably sounded like you were dying because MC soon came bursting into your room.

She held your hair back and rubbed soothing circles on your back as you heaved, tears clouding your vision.

If there was one kind of pain you hated the most it was the pain that came with throwing up. It was agonizing, and your throat burned.

Once you were done, you moved to rinse your mouth while MC left to go get you a drink with electrolytes.

"Are you okay? I know I'm not the best at cooking but I didn't think dinner would be that bad."

MC joked as she handed you a bottle of coconut water. You let out a small chuckle before taking a sip.

"It's weird, I don't think it was your cooking. I've been feeling super nauseous lately and I can't even stand the smell of some foods."

You tell her, she smacks your arm jokingly for not denying her cooking skills, or the lack of them.

"Wait, what if you're pregnant?"

MC said, you laughed her off.

"No way, I haven't even slept..."

The words died in your throat, flashbacks from that night came crashing into your headspace. You never forgot that night, but you definitely did not remember whether you guys had used protection or not.

MC offered to stop by the pharmacy to grab you a couple of pregnancy test, saying it didn't hurt to at least try.

While you waited for her you looked through your calendar, trying to remember when you had your last period.

'Shit. I'm late.'

You paced around the room nervously fidgeting with your fingers, your thoughts were a mess.

MC came back in record breaking time with a couple of bags, one filled with different brands of tests and the other had some of your favourite snacks.

●・○・●・○・●・

You followed the directions and sat on the edge of the tub with MC, waiting for the results.

You were bouncing your knee, the nervousness kicking in ten fold. MC placed a hand on your leg in an effort to reassure you, her eyes saying that she would support you no matter what.

MC checked the results first, you didn't think you could handle looking at it.

She turned around and showed you one of the tests, and that's when you saw it.

Two red lines.

You were pregnant.

169 notes · View notes

cxrsed-angel · 2 days ago

Text

Things Unsaid| (qz!joel miller x fem!reader)

wc: 6k

warnings: angst, fluff, and smut. emotionally constipated joe, age difference/gap. unprotected sex, oral!fem receiving, medically inaccurate wound and injury description (sorry i wasnt that interested in looking it up) protective guard dog joel. alcohol consumption

a/n: this has been in my drafts since s1 was released i think this was inspired by ep 1/2 so its longed over due with posting this

summary: protective joel confronts you when you return from a run late and injured.

You're supposed to be back from your run a couple of hours ago, but running into a few runners and FEDRA pushed you slightly off schedule. You walk into your apartment, ready to wash up, change into comfortable clothes, and go straight to sleep. As you walk in, you see a figure sitting on your couch in the dark, immediately raising your suspicions. You reach for your knife instinctively, ready to stab whoever had broken into your place, but you stop, recognizing it is just Joel, for whatever reason.

Joel had been waiting for a few hours, and as each hour passed, he got more worried and more stressed. He thought about if you had been caught by Fedra for smuggling, were you in jail? He didn't even want to think about the possibility that you had been bitten; he knew you would immediately kill yourself, knowing you wouldn't let yourself turn. He couldn't stomach the thought of you being out there, dead, alone, and he would never know. He knew you and him were just fooling around and that he was one the repeating it was nothing serious, but lately, he had started to care about more than he was willing to admit if he was being honest. He started to repeat more so to remind himself. That it wasn't serious. He was nothing more than an old man you'd fuck for reasons unknown to him. Despite the fact that he was definitely feeling things he hadn't felt in a long time.

When he sees you enter, he's immediately met with a wave of relief and probably a hundred other emotions he can't name or explain. At the very least, he knows you're alive, but quickly replaced with anger and annoyance.

“Where the hell have you been!” his voice booms through the previously silent apartment, laced with irritation, annoyance, and strictness. He looms over you with his broad and large frame.

You watch as he stands up from the shitty couch from the 80s most of the apartments get. You take a minute to look at him before rolling your eyes at his attempt to intimidate you. You sigh, setting the knife you had almost stabbed him with on the old wooden table in the middle of your kitchen. You really aren't in the mood for Joel yelling at you for no reason. You never answered to him before, and you sure as hell wasn't gonna start now.

Joel remains standing, his arms folding in front of him, as he looks at you, waiting for an answer. "Well?" he asks again, this time with a lower volume, but still his voice is strict and low.

You sigh again, tired. Tired because the whole smuggle run your partner 20 something year old asshole who kept trying to hit on you. Tired because you had to take a different route back into the QZ because FEDRA was at the usual entrance. Tired because even after that you were still caught by FEDRA and previously mentioned asshole just ran, leaving you. Tired because FEDRA took advantage of the fact that your "guard dog" Joel wasn't there and decided to rough you a bit. Maybe more than a bit. There were 3 or 4 of them, too many for you to take all at once. They beat you up pretty badly, You knew they weren't going to hurt you up too badly or all hell would break loose. You're so caught off guard by his presence but also confused as to why he was even there in the first place.

“Joel what the fuck are you doing in my apartment? And why the hell are you yelling at me?” you ask just as pissed off as Joel, you take your shoes off, and set your pack down by the couch looking at him for a bit, but he just stares back not saying you anything. "Well, if you aren't gonna speak…" You mutter, turning to go down the hallway to go to your bathroom, when you feel his large, calloused hand on your arm, pulling you back to him. You turn and face him as you eyebrows frown staring back at him really pissed off now.

“You didnt answer my goddamn question.” He grumbled, his voice still low as you looked back at you. He didn't raise his voice this time but you could tell his was upset, you couldnt tell what pissed he was at, but it was written all over his face.

You didn't understand. It wasn't like you guys were a couple; it really wasn't any of his business. You were confused. You never acted this way when he came back late from a run.

“You knew I went on a run, not that I have to answer to you.” You snap back, hoping he would drop it, but you knew he was more stubborn than that. You try to walk away again, but his grip on your arm doesn't loosen. You sigh and stare at him, waiting for him to say what his problem is.

He stares at you, glaring, “You still haven't said why you were so damn late. Did something happen?” He raises his voice at you more, frustrated, Youre still unsure what has him so pissed but you tired and you didnt need joel berating you so late at night on top of the already shitty night you were having.

“Look, Joel! I’ve had a rough night already, with the douchebag I got paired with, having to come in a different route, and getting beat up by FEDRA. So the last thing I needed you bitching at me over nothing so please drop it. Promise you can yell at me in the morning for whatever reason. But right now, my face hurts like a bitch, so please, please just….drop it!” You plead, hoping the little outburst convinced him to leave you alone and go back to his apartment.

But you're met with a blank expression for a moment. Then you see his eyebrows scrunch up, and you watch as the anger dissipates from his face as he takes in all of what you had just said.

He looks at you, slowly reaching your face. You let his calloused hand hold your chin softly, lifting it to the window, looking at your face in the light, trying to gauge how badly you got beat up. He looks closely, noticing the small cuts and purple bruising forming on your cheek, yet the way your face illuminates in the moonlight, he still thinks you look beautiful regardless. He was pissed at the fact that someone had hurt you, but his concern was stronger. He stays silent, not saying a word as he examines your face.

His brows frown as he breaks the silence that the two of you have been sitting in for the past few minutes.

“You got beat up darlin'?” He asks softly, like your mini rant from earlier just sunk in. You hear his voice soften as he says the pet name, making you flustered and catching you off guard.

Normally, he would only call you names like that when you were in bed, and he was ball deep inside you. A few grunts of "right there sweetheart" or a "I'm bout to baby," in that deep southern voice. You always knew it was just the heat of the moment, especially because he never took it out of the bedroom, and you never questioned it. You knew what your arrangement was. You both agreed to just a friends with benefits situation, so you never brought it up.

You didn't understand the flip, from yelling at you the second you entered your apartment to softly holding your face and calling you darling. Maybe on a different day, you'd savor the moment of affection, but tonight, you couldn't handle the mental ping-pong, back and forth.

“Joel, I can't do this back and forth tonight. Are you pissed? Are you not pissed? I don't have the energy for it.” You tell him, and he notices the exhaustion in your voice. He doesn't say anything, which you took as a sign of him dropping it. He stands up and goes to the bathroom, comes back with the medical supplies you were going to grab earlier, and pulls a chair up as you sit down at the table. He sits down in front of you, close to you, his knees brushing against yours. Making your face feel warm, but you couldn't tell if it was from the bruises or his proximity. You watch him put rubbing alcohol on a clean towel as he reaches to hold your face again.

“Come here, let me see,” he spoke softly as he sat in a chair.

“I can do it, Joel,” you muttered quietly. You didn't want him to take care of you. To clean your wounds, or maybe to see the small knife wound that was on your side. Either way, you didn't need him taking care of you. You pull back slightly and make an attempt to grab the alcohol to clean the cuts yourself, but he pulls it out of reach.

“Just let me see, let me do it,” he insists again, and this time, you give up, not having another fight in you. You nod, agreeing, allowing him to clean your cuts. He lets out a small sigh "so damn stubborn." He mutters under his breath as he helps you take off your jacket.

You cringe, remembering that you may or may not have been stabbed slightly by one of the FEDRA guards. You didn't forget about it, you felt the stinging pain since it happened, but you didn't expect Joel to be here. You close your eyes, knowing he's going see the bruises and wounds you got from FEDRA. Seeing the stain of blood from the stab.

Joel hangs your jacket over the chair. He slowly lifts your shirt up, gently helping it up over your head, and sets it with your jacket. You sit in the chair in your sports bra, trying to come up with something to say.

"At least take a girl out before getting her naked." You joke, hoping to ease the tension and hoping it will make him less mad when he sees the bloody bandage you hastily wrapped around your torso, but you are wrong.

“Who did this!? Was this FEDRA? Where was that little shit you were paired with while you were getting beat up!” his voice was stern as he yells. His intense stare never leaves the wound on your side. Joel slowly removes the bandage, seeing where you had been stabbed by FEDRA. Joel immediately saw red when he saw it. It wasn't very deep or fatal. He knew you were gonna live, but it didn't mean he was okay with it. He wished he knew what guard did this, he wanted to know who he had to go beat up.

“Joel-” you try to calm him, to tell him to let it go, but it wasn't worth it, you know if you told him anything about the guy who did it he would go out on a man hut which you didnt want, but he insisted asking again.

“Who?” He was trying to be calm and not start shouting, but it was still obvious how mad he was. He knew you could handle yourself, but that didn't make it easier when you got hurt when he wasn't there. He heard from Tess what time you were supposed to be back. When you were an hour late he started to think the worse, if you had come back any later he would’ve been out there searching for you, he would go through all of Boston if he needed to. He knew your situation was just casual, but it didn't stop him from worrying about you.

“It doesn't matter,” you said exhaustedly. He sees it in your face how tired you are, and he finally listens for the first time tonight and drops it. He removes the bandage you sloppily put on it. It looked pretty bad if you were being honest, considering the quick wrap-up you did just so you could get home. You watch his eyebrows frown as he continues to stare at it. “You’ve had this the whole time.” his eyebrows raise as he questions, but you just close your eyes and nod.

He grabs some alcohol and a cloth. “This is gonna hurt, ” you nod and lean your head against your arm on the table. He puts some of the alcohol on to a cloth, you felt the burning sensation once he puts it on the wound.

You curse as the burning continues, instinctively grabbing his arm, squeezing it in pain. Your eyes shut as you try to calm down, but it is just too much. You try to take deep breaths, but it doesn't help much. You bit down on your lip, hoping it would be over soon.

“I know, baby, I know. 'M almost done.” Your heart warms at the pet name again, it takes your mind off of how painful it was. Deep down, you know it didn't hold any meaning or weight. He probably just said it, paying no mind to it, just trying to calm you, or so you tell yourself. When he finally finishes, wrapping it much better than you did before. You watch him put the medical kit back, and you grab a bottle of whiskey you assumed he had while he waited for you and take a couple of large sips. You intended to drink your weight in whiskey until black out and forget about this whole night.

Joel glances over his shoulder, turns around, and sees you practically chugging the bottle of whiskey. He takes it away from your lips. “Alright, alright, that’s enough.” He puts the alcohol away and finishes putting the stuff away.

You frown your eyebrows at him for taking the bottle away and grab the bottle back to drink it, enjoying the burning sensation that hits the back of your throat.

“It’s my booze. I smuggled it to drink it, not sit on the counter and stare at it.” You snap a bit before taking another large sip. Right now, it was the only thing that could make the pain disappear and take your mind off Joel being so caring and calling you baby. Maybe if you drink enough, you can stop your stomach from doing flips at the thought of him calling your baby. Or you can stop the achy feeling in your core every time Joel touches you tonight. You feel yourself getting more worked up, turned on as you think back to his hand on your jaw and your cheek. Him calling you baby, darlin', his attractive southern drawl each time he said it.

You take another big gulp of the whiskey, but again you feel the bottle rip away from your lips again by his large hand, some of the liquid spills down your chin and your chest.

“Okay, well ya don’t need to finish it one day. Had more than enough.” Joel scolds you lightly as he sets the bottle on the counter in the kitchen and grabs a towel to clean your face; again, he brings his hands on your chin, cleaning the whiskey off your chin. Making you warm again.

You look at him for a minute before getting up from the table and changing into more comfortable clothes in your bedroom. You return back to the living room and sit on the couch, starting to feel the alcohol’s effects. Joel comes and sits next to you, sighing a bit.

“Look sweetheart I-I uh I’m sorry about earlier. It’s none of my business why you were so late coming back hom-here.” He hopes you didnt catch how he almost said home, but he figured you were too drunk or tipsy to notice.

You snuggle up against him starting to doze off “I was fine, you worry too much old man, it’s why you’re turning gray” You reach up and play with his hair for a couple of minutes before he gently grabs your wrist and put down in your lap he felt himself warm up trying not to get flustered, but he knew you were just drunk and affectionate.

“Darlin', I’m bein' serious-” he goes to say more, but you interrupted him.

“I am too. I’m sorry I made you worry tonight I just didn’t plan for-”

He sighs and cutting you off this time. “I know just don’t like seeing you bloody and hurt” you lay your head against his shoulder and close your eyes, you felt your heart beat faster from being so close to him, you knew it was the alcohol but you felt fuzzy and warm inside, you smiled slightly before trying to hide it. “I know Joel. I’ll be more careful.”

Joel looks down as you place yourself against his shoulder, getting more comfortable leaning against him. He covers you a bit more with the blanket and is quiet for a few minutes before he speaks.

“I-I haven’t felt this in a long time and I can’t handle losing you I-uh-it scared the shit out of me when you didnt come back I thought-I-just couldnt handle something happening and not being there for you. Joel looked down trying to see your face, what your reaction was, but all he saw was you asleep on his shoulder. He sighs and laughs to himself. “Yea she would be asleep right now.” He taps your arm gently, waking you.

“Come on, let’s go to bed, darlin'.”

You frown at him waking you up, feeling your head spin a little, and finding it hard to focus. “I think I drank a little too much,” you slurred as you see him smile,e laughing at you, only a little bit. He watches as you blink slowly, trying to get your bearings.

“Yea don’t know why you drunk straight whiskey like that.” he’s never seen you drink like that. You usually don't allow yourself to get drunk, always saying you couldn't afford to be, having to be alert at all times, and he didn't blame you.

“To make the pain go away,” you respond with a slight attitude, like it was obvious. You go to stand up but lose your balance, falling to the floor. Joel sighs and helps you up. His hand grabs your waist to hold you up. You lean more of your body weight on him as he helps you over to the bed.

“Come on, I need to get you to bed,” he says softly, and he tries to lay you down on your bed. He watches as you try to stand up on your own but fail again, and then he places a hand on your hip, steadying you.

You smile and caress your hand along his chest poorly, not having the best coordination, but it was clear to Joel you were trying to be sexy. “Are you trying to get in my pants again, Texas?” You smile up, looking at him with big eyes, hoping the answer is yes.

“No trying to get you to sleep,” he says flatly as he tries to get you off of him. Joel didn't expect you to care but he realized he was wrong when tears start to form in your eyes, he looks down at you confusion falls over his face as you pout and more tears starting to fall more.

“You aren’t-you don’t want to fuck me anymore is it-it’s because-do you not like me anymore.” you babble through your cries as Joel helps, leading you to your bed as he holds you up. A hand on your lower back, he won't lie, he doesn't think he's ever seen you cry like this, it had caught him off guard. Seeing you emotional and vulnerable for the first time. But then again, he wasn't the most open guy either.

“N-No darling… its because you’re drunk off your ass, ask me again when you're sober I’ll say yes,” he said softly, trying to calm you as he lays you down on the bed, wiping wipes the tears that were on your cheeks with his rough hand. You gaze up at him as you relax into the bed.

You swallow hard, trying to stop the tears. “You promise?” you ask, sobbing as you lay on the bed. Laying your head on the pillow for a few seconds before sitting back up to look at him. Eyes watery and teary. Deep down, you feared that once he stopped sleeping with you, he would stop talking to you and hanging out with you, and you thought that fear was coming true tonight. You knew you were just sleeping together, nothing more, but you’d take that; it was better than him not being in your life at all.

Joels stares back softening his gaze. He nods as as he reassures, “I promise, sweetheart, just go to sleep.” Once he was sure he was in the bed and comfortable, he turned to leave and went to sleep on the couch. But your voice stopped him. you grab his wrist softly, not wanting him to leave.

“You’re gonna lay down, too, right?” you ask quietly, looking up at him. He could tell you were still unsure. That there was still some doubt. It catches Joel by surprise, he usually didn't sleep in your bed. If he did, it was more out of convenience, not on purpose. But he was always glad when you did ask. He always slept better next to you. He comes back to the bed and lies down next to you. he didn't want to overstep or make you uncomfortable, so he tries to lay down a bit far, not wanting to cuddle against you. “Of course. Now get some sleep.”

He watches as you slept next to him, cuts scattered around your face. He wondered how you got them all. He felt bad you never got to experience being carefree and young, going out with friends, drinking having fun, instead you had to deal with this shit since you were young. You had lived in this world longer than before it was like this. You didn't have time to enjoy it and be a kid. He knew you had to grow up super fast. He didn't even want to think about how you said you’ve been on your own since you were 13 and what you must've gone through by yourself.

When Joel is sure you are asleep, he slowly leaves your bed, grabs his jacket, and puts his shoes on before leaving your apartment. He knew you said to drop it but he couldnt, he couldnt let them get away with hurting you. he went out asking around it only took about a hour to find out the FEDRA officers that were on duty during the time you were out, within two hours he had found the agent who stabbed you by bribes and threats. He went over and made it clear that no one should lay a finger on you again.

You wake up feeling the bright sun shining through the windows and a sharp pain all over. Your head is pounding, and you don't want to leave the warmth and comfort of your bed. You slowly roll over, looking at the empty space next to you. You swear Joel was next to you when you were falling asleep. Maybe you were dreaming or just wishful thinking.

You wake up seeing Joel enter your room. He sits on the bed with a new bandage and better disinfectant than the alcohol last night in hand. “Hey, here’s some aspirin and some other stuff I stole from the medical building. I'll ask Tess to stitch you up, okay?” He tells you as he starts to clean your wound until you stop up.

“I can do it myself,” you mumble as you reach out for the stuff wincing as your arms stretch. He hands you the aspirin and water, rolling his eyes at how stubborn you are. Joel watches as you struggle to sit up to take the aspirin. He thought about how different it was seeing you be more vulnerable and emotional last night when you were drunk. Letting him help you in bed, asking him to lay with you, dropping your guard, and letting him in a little. But it was short-lived. In the morning, you're back, guarding your emotions and shutting him out. He couldn't blame you, though he was just as guarded as you.

“Shut up, you can barely raise your arms.” You know he was right; it was more painful and sore than last night. You reluctantly let him lift your shirt up so he could change the bandage and clean it.

Once he’s done changing the bandage, Joel sees your face in the sunlight and feels sick once he sees your black eye, mad at himself for not protecting you, for not being there with you, for letting them hurt your pretty face. He wished he was there, he knew he wouldn’t let anything happen to you. But beating up that officer last night made him feel better.

“I didnt know you had a black eye, couldn't see it last night.” he mutters as he held your face between his fingers, examining it more.

You feel yourself get warmer with him being so close, you smile at the comment. “It would explains why my face hurts like a bitch.” Trying to lighten the mood, but you could tell he was pissed. He doesn't respond or laugh, he just continues looking at the face to see anything else he might’ve missed last night.

“Yea, well, the aspirin should help. Wish we had ice or something,” he said dryly, not finding your comedic relief funny. His glare was still strong.

“Sorry, I was very drunk last night. Im sure I said some dumb shit haven't gotten that drunk since i was young.” You don’t remember much after falling asleep on the couch, but you knew you were touchy and more sensitive when you were drunk. You weren’t sure if you had told him something you would regret, but Joel didn’t say or act differently, so you assumed it was fine.

Joel ignores the first part, focusing on you saying when you were young. He scoffs. “You're in your twenties, you are young,” he responds dryly. You could tell he was still upset at the state you were in. You're trying to make him feel slightly better about it, but it hasn't worked so far.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot I was talking to someone who was alive when dinosaurs were still around.” You joke, but he doesn't react. He continues, finishing cleaning your wound, and his hand comes up holding your face. You feel his rough hands rub against your cheek. You see the cuts on his knuckles, and by how fresh they are, you assume he had gotten back at FEDRA this morning. He holds your face in his hands. It was quiet for a few minutes before Joel spoke up.

“I'm sorry I wasn't there, baby. I—” You were caught off guard by his affectionate action as he caressed your face. You stared back into his brown eyes. You saw how he was looking at you. It was softer. He looked at you like you had never seen before, and you didn’t know what it meant.

“Joel-” you feel the heat rise on your face; you look at him, staring at his eyes, the wrinkles from the years, scars and cuts on his face. His brown eyes and greying beard. You're silent for a few minutes before you feel your mouth opening

“You're so pretty,” you mutter quietly, saying the first thing that comes to mind.

You see his lips smile for the first time today, “I think you're prettier, sweetheart.” You stare at his lips for a second before slowly leaning forward, pressing your lips onto his, and you feel his lips follow. You close your eyes as you relax against him. You’ve kissed him before, but only during sex. It was quick and messy, and you both knew it was just the heat of the moment. You’ve never kissed him like this, you could tell it meant more. It was slower, not fueled by lust.

You feel him pull away first. You panic, thinking he is going to be mad. He could tell by your wide eyes. He shakes his head slightly, reassuring you before kissing you again. You feel Joel slowly moving, joining you on your bed and lying next to you.

He leans over to continue kissing you, but you put your hands on his chest, stopping him. You couldn’t handle having sex with him as just a casual thing anymore, it was too much. It would hurt more when he would go and sleep with other people you couldn’t do it anymore. You were scared that he wouldn't want anything to do with you after, but it more knowing it didnt mean anything more.

“Um Joel if we- um-if we do this, I can only do this if it’s more than casual. I know you've probably been sleeping with other people and I’m not mad or anything I know what we agreed but um I like you, have liked you for a while now and I can’t do this knowing it’s just a friend with benefits situation.” You swallow nervously, not knowing what he is going to say. You fiddle with your finger as you stare down at the sheets, too nervous to meet his eye. A part of you was waiting for him to say he’s not interested, that you’re just a good fuck and reliable outside the walls, nothing more. That he didn't have any feelings for you.

But he proves you wrong. You feel his face caress your face, making you look at him. “Sweetheart, I haven’t slept with anyone since I started sleeping with you.”

Your eyebrows rise in shock. You haven’t slept with anyone either, knowing you couldn’t be with anyone but him, but it still surprises you. He smiles at your face. “What thought I was sleeping with everyone in the QZ?" he teases, making you laugh.

You know him well enough to know he very rarely lets people get closer enough to fuck them you just thought him and tess would be. “No, no, just thought you and Tess-” but he cuts you with a quick shake of his head.

“No, not in a long time. Before I even met you, and we're better off as friends.” He says quietly as he stares at you intensely and you gaze back at him. He leans forward and pressing his lip onto yours again, kissing you softly, you close your eyes as you feel his hand cupping your face. You're nervous, feeling your body getting warmer in excitement. You wrap your hands around his waist, pulling him closer to you. His lips parted, allowing you to slip your tongue in. You grab his waist and lie down, trying to pull him on top of you, needing to be closer to him. Your back hits the bed gently, and you expect his lips to follow yours, but he stays hovering above you.

You open your eyes and frown your eyebrows, looking at him, confused as to why he stopped kissing you. He looks at you before glancing to your side where your wound was, and then you understand. He didn't want to put too much weight on you while you were hurt. You reach your hands up to his hair, running your finger through it. “You're not gonna hurt me, Texas, I swear,” you say quietly, reassuring him.

He looks at you, then to your side one more, still hesitant. You hear him sigh before he leans down to kiss your forehead. “Alright, but I’m being gentle, nothing too rough.” He sits up and starts unbuttoning his flannel, admiring himself as he does so.

“Aww, I really wanted you to throw me around and tie me up. Maybe slap me around,” You joke, your voice laced with sarcasm. You watch as he stops unbuttoning his shirt to give you his famous deadpan stare. Not a hint of amusement in his voice before he continues to take his shirt off as he rolls his eyes at your joke.

“Shut up," he shakes his head. Give me an IOU on throwing you around, okay?"

You nod, laughing, getting more turned on at the thought of him "throwing you around." You run a hand down his stomach before grabbing his waist again and pulling him onto your lips, making him hover over you again. His fingers unzip your shorts and pull them down with your underwear, you kick them off.

You think he is gonna come back to kiss you but your surprised when he starts kissing your stomach, getting lower and lower till he reaches where you need him most, you feel place soft kisses on your clit, before licking it a couple of times, you whimper as you feel your hips shudder under the pleasure.

"Joel," you moan as he eats you out, his hands spreading your thighs. Your eyes roll back, moaning as you feel his large fingers thrust inside you, replacing his tongue.

"Gonna cum baby?"

You nod as he returns going back, licking your folds. You grab his hair, lightly tugging on it, getting his attention.

He looks up at you raising his eyebrows “what?” you lose your train of thought when feeling his finger lightly stroking your clit, you let out another moan before finally being able to piece your sentence together. “Joel I need you to fuck me please” you begged more disparate than you would admit, you see him smile and lean down kissing your clit on more time, before you watch him take off his jeans and boxers. You see his hard cock, admiring for a moment feel yourself getting wetter.

You cant’t take your eyes of him, desperately wanting him in your mouth, you know he probably wouldn’t want you because your wound but it was worth a try, when comes back over to you, you reach out stroking his cock and batting your eye lashes “Joel can I suck you off please.” you tried buttering him up hoping you jerking him off would forget about your injury. He watch as he slowly came undone as your hand began speeding up, but it wasn’t enough.

“No,” he answered flatly before letting out a quiet moan, you pout a little before he places a quick kiss on your lips. “you’re lucky i’m fucking you don’t push it, you can suck my dick youre healed l” you nodded disappointedly but you knew it was long shot. You continue moving your hand slowly up and down on his cock. he moans louder, he removes your hand and moves so he’s hovering over you while you lay down against the bed. He brings two fingers up to your mouth, having you suck on them before pushing them into your cunt, his fingers spread you open as the curl inside you. Feeling your wetness drip down his fingers as he increased his speed fucking his fingers a little faster.

“Joel…please need you,” you whine as you feel yourself tighten around his fingers. You squeeze your eyes shut as you bite your lip as his fingers get you closer to your release. Your hand grabs his wrist, holding onto it for support. You feel his other hand come to your clit, slowly rubbing circles as your hips jerk up because of his touch.

“c’mon baby can feel you’re close aren’t you, c’mon sweetheart cum on my fingers.” you feel him speed up his finger a bit more as you moan at his words. You moan out his name probably too loud considering how thin the QZ wall are but you didn’t care, too focused on you that pleasure as you cum onto his fingers. You open your eyes as you come down from your release. You watch as Joel slowly removes his finger from you and puts them into his mouth, making you whine.

“Joel please I need you, please fuck me.” you watch as he smile slightly before he placed his lips on yours. Leaning over you more as your hand comes up to his waist. He removes his lips from yours.

"This is gonna be different,” was all he said before returning his lips back on yours.

You knew what he meant, you knew he didnt want to be like all the other times, when you just had a quick fuck before going about the rest of your day, no post-sex cuddles or pillow talk. He wanted to take his time, appreciate you and your body unlike before. Show you that you were more than just a fuck buddy.

You nod as he leans down and kisses you, slowly for a few seconds before pulling away. “So fucking beautiful sweetheart." your face heats up at the compliment, you feel the head of his cock slips into your wet folds. Your eyes flutter closed as his slowly and gently pushes deeper inside you.

"Joel." you moan, as your nails dig into his shoulders, feeling him.

"Fuck baby so tight. Can't believe you thought id fuck any other pussy." he moans moving slowly inside you, careful not to hurt you. Digging your nails into his shoulders. "Joel. Joel. Joel." You moan as he continues thrusting his thick cock deep inside you, slow and gentle and perfect, bringing you to your release. Joel follows closely behind, cumming inside you.

He rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavily with you. You bring your hand to the back of his head, running your finger through his curls with a content smile. He kisses your forehead, resting there for a few seconds before slowly slipping out from inside, causing you both to moan a bit. Joel lays down next to you, pulling you under his arm.

"How ya feeling?" he asks softly, almost in a whisper.

"Im fine relax, your dick is good miller but not good enough to reinjured my stab wound." You tease as Joel purses his lips as he stares at you, his cheeks turning a bit red.

"Didnt hear ya complain' 5 minutes ago." He turns, lying on his side, back turned to you, but you know it's just so his good ear can be unhindered by the pillow. You lie down slowly, wrapping your arms around his back, being the "big spoon." He rubs your hand as it lands across his stomach.

"Not complaining, just saying." He sighs, letting out a small chuckle.

"Just take a nap. I'll ask Tess 'bout more painkillers, okay?" You nod, resting your head against his back, closing your eyes.

"Okay, but know that I 'm still holding onto the IOU about throwing me around Texas."

"Shut the hell up, you're ridiculous." He's quiet for a moment before speaking again. "Bring it up in two weeks, and I'll think about it.

#angel writes #this feels like my magnum opus but shitty idk here it is #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

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p-seduonym · 12 hours ago

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The Little Light That Got Lost (Part Eleven)

A/N: Almost done! Will get to the climax soon I promise! Also, I have no idea how to right for John. That may be obvious or it may not, idk.

Taglist: @cheust, @i-simp-for-women, @goodsoup19, @143637-hrrm, @delias-stuff, @12nitled, @cutenessbun, @rinkydinkythinky, @trashlanternfish360, @bunbunbread, @daddysfangirls-dc, @justannie18, @moon0goddess

Part One

Part Two

Part 2.5

Interlude

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Field Notes – Wayne Manor, Child’s Quarters Subject: Casey Wayne Observer: J. Constantine Date: [REDACTED]

Room’s too big for a kid that small. Bed, wardrobe, nightstand—all oversized. Like someone shrank the occupant or built the room for a different child entirely.

Only thing that fits: a cheap little table dead center. Plastic. Primary colors. Two chairs to match—one pink, one blue. Tea set on top. Not plastic. Ceramic. Hand-painted flowers. Someone gave a lot of care to something bound to get broken.

But the kid’s not there. No movement. No sound.

Nearly wrote them off as missing until I caught the tip of something—tiny feet sticking out from under the bed. Just enough of a gap between the frame and the floor to fit a body their size. Didn’t call out. Just made a note and kept my distance. They were watching me before I ever walked in.

Lit a cigarette. Didn’t smoke it—just let the smoke linger. Pennyworth’ll give me hell for it.

Transcript Begins:

CONSTANTINE: “Rough week, eh kid?” No response.

Kneeled down, not too close. Didn’t crowd them. Just enough to be noticed.

Looked like a cat, that kid—wary but watching. Under their arm: a toy duck. Looked like hell. Missing an eye. All stitched up.

CONSTANTINE: “Funny thing, that toy. Looks like someone tried to kill it.” No answer. Just a thumb over one of its wings.

CONSTANTINE: “Right then. Mister Duck, is it? You seen some odd things, haven’t you? Woke up with your stuffing outside your body, stitched back up by the butler. Rough go, that.” Their lips twitched. They shrunk back.

CASEY (murmured): “Ducat.”

CONSTANTINE: “Yeah?”

CASEY: “His name is Ducat.”

CONSTANTINE: “Of course.” Not much, but getting somewhere.

CONSTANTINE: “Alright, Mister Ducat—can you tell me what you’ve seen?”

CASEY: “He can’t talk.”

CONSTANTINE: “Oh, I reckon he can. He’s just got a mouth full of secrets.” Silence. They start to rock slightly.

CONSTANTINE: “Got told you didn’t want to talk. That’s fine, eh? Mister Ducat can do all the talking.”

Took a drag of the cigarette. Just one.

CONSTANTINE: “What kind of secrets does he keep, then? The kind that whisper when the lights are off?” No answer. Just more rocking.

CONSTANTINE: “You know, I’ve met a few toys in my time. One was stuffed with straw and Latin verses. Another had teeth in its belly. Your mate here—he’s got the look of something that’s been places.”

They sighed—not tired, almost annoyed.

CASEY: “Ducat doesn’t keep secrets. Titus hurt him, so Alfred had to fix him.”

CONSTANTINE: “Yeah? The dog hurt him?”

CASEY: “Yeah, so he went away to the hospital.”

CONSTANTINE: “He went to the hospital, huh?”

They pointed a tiny arm out from under the bed. At a toy trunk in the corner.

CONSTANTINE: “Ah, you put him there to get better?”

CASEY: “Yes.”

CONSTANTINE: “So you think he doesn’t know anything?”

CASEY: “He doesn’t.”

CONSTANTINE: “How do you know?” Pause.

CASEY: “Maybe I’ll ask him.”

Sat down on the floor. Cold to the touch.

CONSTANTINE: “Alright Mister Ducat. Can you tell me about your mate Casey? I heard they’ve been having troubles.” They clutched Ducat tighter.

CONSTANTINE: “Walking while they're asleep. Speaking things no one understands. Seeing things that no one else can.”

Silence. Heavy. They stared at Ducat like he might betray them.

CONSTANTINE: “Do you know what they’re seeing?”

Slow headshake. Then:

CASEY: “It’s not things. It’s them.”

CONSTANTINE: “Who’s ‘them’?”

CASEY: Shrug. “I dunno. They were here a long time ago.”

CONSTANTINE: “A long time ago?”

CASEY: “Yeah. Before Daddy. And Alfred. And everyone.”

CONSTANTINE: “And what do they want?”

CASEY: Shrugs again. “I dunno. They keep me up though.”

CONSTANTINE: “Yeah, I heard you were having trouble sleeping.”

They hum. A soft, tuneless little sound.

CONSTANTINE: “Want me to make them go away?”

CASEY: “...You can’t.”

CONSTANTINE: “Why you say that?”

CASEY: “Yaya says there always there—” They stop. Sudden.

CONSTANTINE: “Yaya, huh? That your friend?”

CASEY: “...Yaya is Yaya.”

CONSTANTINE: “You know her long?” Silence.

CONSTANTINE: “I’ll take that as a yes. So Yaya says they can’t go away?”

CASEY: “...When people are hurting and scared, they can’t leave.”

CONSTANTINE: “She say that too?”

CASEY: “...Yes.”

CONSTANTINE: “So Yaya can’t leave?”

CASEY: “No.”

CONSTANTINE: “You think Yaya’s hurting?”

CASEY: “I dunno… maybe.”

CONSTANTINE: “Hey, kid, listen. I can make them stop hurting, y’know? They’ll go away—”

CASEY: “Don’t!—Ah!”

CONSTANTINE: “Kid?”

They shot up. Too fast. Knocked their head on the bedframe.

CASEY (panicked): “Don’t make Yaya go away! Don’t make her leave!”

Now sitting on the bed. One sock off. Heel bruised—small, round mark. Old. Like they kicked something harder than they meant to. Or someone didn’t notice they’d been hurt. Still holding Ducat. Tighter than before.

CONSTANTINE: “You don’t want Yaya to leave?”

Shakes head.

CONSTANTINE: “Why’s that?”

CASEY: “She stays with me. Even when the lights go off.”

CONSTANTINE: “That when they come?”

CASEY: “Sometimes. Sometimes it’s just quiet. But it’s scary quiet. Like before something bad happens.”

CASEY: “Yaya sings when it’s quiet. She hums like this—” They hum a strange lullaby. Off-key. Old. Didn’t recognize it.

CONSTANTINE: “She hold your hand when you’re scared?”

CASEY: “No.”

CONSTANTINE: “No?”

CASEY: “She hugs me real close. So I don’t go anywhere.”

CONSTANTINE: “You go places?”

CASEY: “Sometimes. Alfred says I do it when I sleep.”

CONSTANTINE: “So Alfred knows? What about your dad?”

Flinch. Word hit like a slap.

CASEY: “...I dunno.”

CONSTANTINE: “You don’t like your dad?”

CASEY: “I dunno. He’s busy.”

CONSTANTINE: “He busy a lot?”

CASEY: “Yes.” Fidgeting now.

CONSTANTINE: “What about your siblings?”

CASEY: “They don’t like me.”

CONSTANTINE: “What makes you think that?”

CASEY: “They don’t talk to me ‘cause I’m little.”

CONSTANTINE: “That can’t be the only reason.”

CASEY: “It is. Stephanie calls me ‘Baby Casey’ and that’s why I can’t play with them.”

CONSTANTINE: “They play without you?”

CASEY: “Yeah. Stuff like Mario Kart. I wanna play too but they won’t let me.”

CONSTANTINE: “So you play all alone?”

CASEY: “...Not always. Sometimes Duke plays. But he’s busy now.”

CONSTANTINE: “All the time?”

CASEY: “Yes.”

CONSTANTINE: “Must be lonely. Playing by yourself.”

Shakes head.

CASEY: “I’m not alone. Yaya plays with me.”

CONSTANTINE: “Yeah? What do you two play?”

CASEY: “We have tea parties. Sometimes she teaches me e-ti-quette.”

CONSTANTINE: “Etiquette, huh? That’s a big word for you, kid.”

CASEY: “Yaya says it’s when you have good manners and people like you more.”

CONSTANTINE: “I’m not really big on the whole politeness thing. But whatever floats your boat.”

Quiet again.

CASEY: “I want people to like me.”

CONSTANTINE: “I’m sure they do.”

CASEY: “Only Yaya does.”

CONSTANTINE: “Yeah? She say that?”

They just looked at me. Direct. Empty.

CASEY: “She doesn’t like you.”

CONSTANTINE: “I’m used to that.”

CASEY: “She says you’re trying to take her away from me.”

CONSTANTINE: “I’m trying to help her. You said you think she’s hurting, right?”

CASEY: “Yes.”

CONSTANTINE: “So you don’t want her to be hurting anymore, right?”

CASEY: “...But if she goes away, I’ll be all alone.”

CONSTANTINE: “Casey, listen—you're not alone—”

They weren’t listening. Just staring past me. I looked back.

Big thing. Took up nearly the whole damn room. Big-ass teeth and darker than tar.

CASEY: “She told me I’d never be alone. Even if I got buried.”

[End Transcript]

Conclusion: Subject exhibits signs of prolonged emotional isolation, limited physical affection or comfort from primary caregivers, and an intense attachment to a protective entity referred to as “Yaya.” Entity appears maternal in function. Further exploration needed into historical records of the estate and potential residual hauntings linked to the nursery and cellar spaces.

Will need to proceed carefully. Subject is not just haunted—they’re being raised by the ghost.

A/N: I feel like this one was a bit redundant. Did it feel like that? Idk. Hope you enjoy and all that jazz. I might get more into Bruce's thoughts in the next one or I may jump straight to the climax. We'll see.

#yandere #yandere blog #yandere core #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #yandere reader #original character #just let me ramble #the light that got lost #platonic yandere

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90slavenderh4ze · 2 days ago

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“if i ever go to azkaban, will you still write to me?” - sirius black

pairing: bit of marauders era!sirius black x reader in the beginning, post azkaban!sirius black x reader mainly.

summary: a dumb joke he made in seventh year. you didn’t think it would become your reality. you wrote him every week anyway. he never replied. now he’s back.

warnings: none that i can think of; slight angst, hurt/comfort, soft ending.

a.n: finally wrote something after over a month lol had to be post azkaban!sirius.

He had said it like a joke. Of course he had.

The fire had been low that night in the Gryffindor common room, casting honey-colored flickers on his cheekbones, and he’d been bored—lazy-limbed and draped over the arm of the couch like a prince exiled from his own throne. James had been arguing about something, Remus trying to shush him with a book pressed to his chest, and Sirius—he had looked at you. That stupid, sharp-eyed grin crawling across his face.

“If I ever go to Azkaban, will you still write to me?”

You’d scoffed, not bothering to look up from your book. “Only to gloat.”

“Cruel,” he said, dramatically clutching his chest. “Heartless. I bare my soul and this is what I get.”

“You’re not baring anything. You’re being an idiot.”

He had leaned in, just a little. Close enough that you could see the mischievous glint in his grey eyes, the hint of something softer tucked beneath it—something too fragile for a boy like him to admit. “So you’re saying you would write.”

You rolled your eyes, but your fingers had gone still on the page. “Don’t flatter yourself, Black.”

“You’re not denying it.”

“Goodnight, Sirius.”

“Goodnight, love.”

It was nothing. A throwaway moment between teenagers who didn’t know anything about war or loss or cages of cold iron and madness.

And yet, you remembered it.

You remembered it the morning the news broke. The headlines burned themselves into your vision:

Twelve Dead. One Man Responsible. Sirius Black Arrested. No Trial.

You remembered it when you held the letter in shaking hands, rereading it as if the words might reorder themselves into something that made sense.

You remembered it as you sat on the floor of your flat, back against the kitchen counter, and wrote your first letter with a hand that wouldn’t stop trembling.

November 2nd, 1981

Dear Sirius,

What the fuck happened?

No signature. No softness. Just raw disbelief.

You didn’t think he’d get it. You hadn’t even known if they let prisoners receive mail in Azkaban. But you sent it anyway.

And then you wrote another. And another.

Every week. Rain or shine. War or no war.

You didn’t stop.

—

By the third year, your letters had changed. Less fury. Less confusion. Just little updates. Things he wouldn’t care about. Things you needed to say.

March 18th, 1984

I saw a dog today. Big. Black. Shaggy fur. I almost thought…

Never mind.

Hope the Dementors don’t get in your head too much this week. Bastards.

You joked sometimes. Sometimes you cried. Sometimes you wrote three sentences and tore up four pages before settling on the fifth.

October 31st, 1986

I lit a candle for James and Lily.

Harry looks so much like James. He’s even got the same shitty smirk when he knows he’s being clever. He has Lily’s eyes though.

Still, no response.

The owl came back empty every time. But you kept writing.

You didn’t even know why anymore.

—

Years passed.

You stopped telling people you were doing it. Remus had disappeared after the war. The Order scattered. Nobody really checked on each other anymore. You learned to make your peace with silence.

Until Dumbledore wrote to you. Until the words Sirius Black has escaped Azkaban landed in your lap like a ghost resurrected.

You didn’t know what to think. The Prophet screamed murder, but your hands didn’t shake with fear. They shook with hope.

That hope almost killed you.

And then—one night, long after the world had gone quiet again— him.

Stepping in like death incarnate. Pale. Hollow. Wild-eyed and soaked to the bone, like he’d swum through every nightmare just to knock on your door.

You didn’t speak at first. Just stared at him.

He looked like a man on the edge of disappearing.

“Sirius?”

His throat moved when he swallowed. “Hi.”

Your breath caught, and you crossed the room without thinking. Hands on his face, fingertips tracing the hollows beneath his cheekbones like you were trying to map the years that had stolen him. “You’re real.”

He laughed, soft and dry and a little broken. “Barely.”

And then you pulled him in.

You held him like he might collapse, because he might’ve. You felt the ribs through his shirt, the way his heart pounded beneath thin layers of muscle and fear and grief. He didn’t speak. Didn’t pull away. Just let himself breathe you in like it hurt.

When you finally let go, he looked at you like he was afraid to ask what came next.

“I got your letters,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

You stared. “You… what?”

“They didn’t let me keep them. But they let me read them. Once a week. Maybe to mock me. I don’t know. I read every single one.”

You stepped back, blinking hard. “You never replied.”

He shook his head, eyes cast low. “Didn’t know how. Didn’t think I deserved to.”

“Sirius.”

“I thought I was protecting you.”

You laughed, bitter and breathless. “You were rotting in a cell, and you thought you were protecting me?”

He looked up. “I didn’t want you to wait for a dead man.”

Your voice cracked. “I wasn’t waiting. I was remembering.”

The silence between you stretched, full of ghosts.

“I thought about you,” he said, quietly. “All the time. More than anything else. You were… the only thing that didn’t fade.”

You didn’t say anything. Just walked over to the desk and opened a drawer.

He froze.

You pulled out a box. Set it down. Opened it.

Inside: copies of every letter you’d ever sent.

“You kept them.”

You nodded. “I didn’t want to forget what it felt like to believe in something.”

His voice wavered. “You believed in me?”

“I still do.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. You thought he might shatter.

“Tell me I’m not too late,” he whispered.

You stepped forward and placed his hand over your heart.

“Feel that?”

He nodded.

“You never left.”

And that was it. The dam broke.

He kissed you like he’d been starved of warmth for twelve years. Like you were the only thing he remembered how to want. You held him like you’d been waiting a lifetime, because you had.

You’d never meant to wait.

But you had.

And now—finally—he was here.

Not a ghost.

Not a memory.

Real.

Yours.

#sirius black #post azkaban sirius #post azkaban!sirius black x reader #sirius black blurb #sirius black drabble #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fic #sirius black fluff #sirius black headcanon #sirius black imagine #sirius black one shot #sirius black oneshot #sirius black x reader #sirius black scenario #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 2 days ago

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sky high!au | m.g. x gn!reader

it’s weird going to a high school specifically meant for kids with superpowers, big or small, it makes the four years a little worse for tormenting. some kid got pants by a speedster, and when he tried to run his laces were tied together causing him to trip on the linoleum floor.

high school was hell.

you don’t even know why you go to the school, the ability to rearrange molecules causing them to phase shift wasn’t really great when you can only do small things. pretty sure there’s a rotting apple hiding in the science rooms walls.

at least you had close friends at the school. samantha wilkins, but she prefers her middle name eve more from peers. now that girl is a superhero, with the ability to see atoms and create limitless possibilities-such a badass. rex sloan was another…acquaintance if you could call him that. he causes explosions, big or small just by the touch of his fingers, number one trouble maker (he’s got his own seat in detention).

and then there’s mark grayson, son of omni-man. and he’s gifted with the ability to-to- no one is sure of that yet. for now he’s the only ‘normal’ kid attending the school due to his family status. and he happens to be your childhood best friend along with being neighbors, from séance dog role playing in his backyard to having him help you practice your powers at the age of seven. he was your biggest supporter.

“i feel this would make a killer magic act. maybe we could get into competitions!” mark bounced on his bed from excitement and you just smiled shyly, keeping your knees tucked close to your chest.

“i don’t know…it’s not really good if i can only do a paper clip. kinda lame power i have.” grumbling to yourself. your parents were veteran heros, always saving the world and stopping interglacial wars. you’d never raise to their level.

“hey,” mark poked a finger into your chubby cheek. you sided eyed him gently, no annoyance in your gaze just peering at him. “i think you’re cool.” you scuffed, “you’re just saying that cause your my friend. you’d understand if you had my powers compared to my parents.”

“you’re right, i’m saying that cause i’m your friend. but also i know what it’s like, comparing yourself to others. heck my dad is freaking omni-man! that’s the biggest comparison to date, but i don’t let it stop me. we’re still young, by high school things will be better.”

“hey killer.” blinking your eyes rapidly from a sudden memory, mark was walking into your space. the yellow collar of his shirt popping out to sit at the top of his dark blue striped sweater, one hand tucked into the pocket of his khaki pants. his hair was neatly combed with a bit of gel keeping it in place except for one stray hair that swayed in the wind, it made him look romantic.

“hi marky, ready for today?” talking in the courtyard as you waited for the bell to ring. today was a monthly powers assessment, there were two categories. hero and sidekick. eve and rex have been placed in hero specific classes while you and mark are sidekicks.

a crooked smile brightened mark’s pretty features, “i am actually. got a big surprise for everyone.” jumping his brows conspicuously. you didn’t have time to ask since the bell took its cue signaling the next period. you sighed, “let’s get this over with.”

“alright twerps! you know the drill by now. i’m gonna terrorize you and you best keep yourself intact cause i’m not calling the janitor for clean up duty. now first up…amanda johnson.”

everyone was silent, waiting to see the new meat. a young girl stepped through and onto the platform, she couldn’t be more than thirteen at least. coach just stared her down for a moment, “uh…how old are you?”

“seventeen but my powers cause my aging to turn backwards. now are we gonna do this or what?” you liked her. coach stedman just shrugged then blew his whistle loud, it was worse than a screaming cat.

a giant bus suddenly dropped from the ceiling and everyone gasped but then a cloud of smoke appeared and in amanda’s place was a giant green monster around eight feet maybe. murmurs went through the crowd at the mysterious creature, who set the dinged up vehicle to the side and turned back into the junior. she wiped her hands together, “anything else?”

coach stared wide-eyed, speechless for a moment before clearing his throat. “uh hero, but only do that when necessary. and instructed by your teachers.” and he waved her off calling up another girl.

she had short black hair and was wearing a tight purple top with a mini skirt. “katherine cha, how will you amaze us today?”

“actually i prefer kate and i duplicate.” her rhyme followed with a demonstration of five more exact replicas standing behind her, each one doing a different pose. “hero. now mark grayson, get your butt up here.”

you patted his shoulders, “be careful.” he just threw a smile over his shoulder as he walked onto the platform. coach crossed his arms followed with a deep sigh, “any new developments grayson, or are you still weaker than my eighty year old mother? at least she can lift ten pounds.” a small murmur and giggle spread through the crowd of on lookers while you just rolled your eyes at the comments.

all mark said was, “can she do this?” and started to hover off the ground then floated to the top of the gym ceiling before descending down. your jaw dropped, he got his powers, and didn’t tell you. coach stedman clapped slowly, “well well, nice show. anything else? super strength?” a mechanical dummy shot up and without a thought mark swung a fist causing the head to pop off and roll to the other side of the room.

it was silent then, “ladies and gentlemen, mark grayson, your new hero!”

“try grabbing a book through your locker. it’s not too thick a metal with a light object, just pretend it’s already open and there’s nothing in your way.” eve suggests while helping you practice your powers.

a deep exhale through your nose as you let the tips of your fingers rest against the cool light blue metal. you tried to make yourself feel weightless, just a simple breeze passing through the trees. you felt the spine of your book in your grasp, then quickly retracted your arm back to your side. a small paper back was your trophy.

“i-i did it. i did it!” thrilled at this achievement, small one, but one none the less for yourself. eve clapped beside you, “see just a little concentration goes a long way, in no time you’ll be joining me in hero classes.”

that got you to quiet down a bit, “apparently mark is getting that first.” a gasped followed, “no way! he finally got his powers?”

a nod, “yep. flying and strength, your typical hero package.” letting your fingers run against the aging paper, a baby frown staining your face.

eve hummed, “he didn’t tell you first did he? just gave everyone a big surprise.” understanding your sour mood.

“it’s not like he has to, but it would’ve been nice. i mean he was there when i accidentally fell through my bedroom floor thus causing me to sprain my ankle. why couldn’t he just hover outside my window?” pouting like a baby.

“why the hell did i just see grayson in my civilian protection class?” rex slides up beside you, casually throwing an arm over your shoulders. “did he finally hit powers puberty?”

eve rolled her eyes, “technically him and y/n are both biologically born with powers, while you and i have a bit of altered dna. it’s like growing plants, takes time and patience.”

“blah blah blah,” rex acting like his usual immature self.

…

a/n: just something i thought of. let me know if this is something yall would be interested in, just a more pg version of their world so more fluff less angst.

#invincible #invincible x fem!reader #invincible angst #invincible x you #invincible x reader #invincible imagine #invincible fluff #invincible fic #invincible x gn!reader #mark grayson x gn!reader #mark grayson fic #mark grayson fluff #mark grayson imagine #mark grayson angst #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson

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callsign-swan · 2 days ago

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Princess

You are Princess. Jake is Princess. Bradley wishes he was Princess.

Hangster x reader

In their arms, you were safe. Sandwiched between Mr. Muscles and the human furnace, you were safe. You were content.

Bradley was snoring, something that usually had you and Jake shaking him awake (the rule was, the two of you had to fall asleep before him. As long as the two of you were asleep before the snoring started, everything would be fine), but you had no reason to.

The snore seemed to catch in his throat. Two seconds later, lips touched your head. You wriggled back into him and Bradley tightened his grip on Jake, pulling him closer to the two of you.

"Waaaa?"

"Morning, Princess," Bradley mumbled. You knew he wasn't talking to you.

None of you knew the time, but all of you knew it was too early. For the first time, none of you had anything to do. It was the perfect opportunity to sleep in until noon, yet all of you were awake.

You couldn't complain, not when you were awake first.

"What're we doing today?" Jake mumbled as he rolled towards you. His eyes were shut, hair a mess on the pillow. It was a softer side of Jake Seresin, one nobody but you Bradley got to see. In this bed, he wasn't Hangman, he was just Jake.

You clamped your hand over his mouth and shushed him. "Too early to think about that," you mumbled and let your hand fall limp.

"Give me three point five hours before we attempt to get up," Bradley said through a groan.

Jake opened one eye to stare at the both of you. "Babies," he mumbled, but he still shuffled closer to kiss you.

"Shouldn't you be going for a run?" Bradley asked. His hand slipped down to hold Jakes hip, proof of just how little he wanted him to leave.

But Jakes morning run had become sacred.

"Shouldn't you be joining me?" He challenged.

Rolling his eyes, Bradley pressed another kiss to your head. "Can't," he mumbled and rolled you over in his arms. With you situated on top of him, you both turned your attention to Jake.

"Can't," you echoed. There was nothing more comfortable than Bradley's chest. "Too comfortable." The smile you gave him could only be described as content.

Standing from the bed, Jake stretched his arms over his head. You didn't hide the way you admired his frame, his muscular arms and chest. He was Mr. Muscles, after all.

You and Bradley watched as he got dressed. His little red shorts and grey tank. The tank wouldn't stay on for long, you knew. He'd come home with it slung over his shoulder.

Before he could leave the bedroom, you hooked your fingers around the waistband of his shorts. "Jakey, wait," you said and gave him your best puppy dog eyes.

Hands on his hips, he stared down at you. "What do you want?" He asked in his not very nice tone. (It was nice, it just wasn't as sweet as 'yes my love, my angel? What can I do for you?')

"Can you bring back some pastries?"

This man had the audacity to roll his eyes. But he rolled his eyes and nodded his head. "If my girl wants pastries, I'll get her pastries," he said and leaned down to kiss your head.

"Not so fast, cowboy."

His attention turned to Bradley. Staring up at Jake, looking at him like he hung the moon. You knew what Bradley was asking from his expression alone, a silent 'where's my kiss?'

Jake knew, too. He used his fingers to comb back Bradley's hair and leaned down to kiss him.

"Do you want anything from the bakery, Roo?" He whispered, lips against Bradley's. When you whined for attention (something you'd learnt works), he held your cheeks, stopping you. But that was the attention you wanted.

"Best bring the Princess back a coffee, too," he whispered.

You tried a 'hey!' but it didn't come out quite right with how Jake was holding your face.

"You want coffee, Princess?" He asked and let go of you.

"I thought we were both Princess," you answered, but you nodded your head. They knew you too well; you did want coffee.

"You're both my princesses," Bradley answered for the both of you. It was a question that didn't need asking with just how much he doted on the two of you. You and Jake didn't even need to ask for something, he already knew to get it for you. You shared a throne of his lap, one you frequently fought over.

Jake brushed his finger over your jaw. "I'll be back with your pastries and coffee soon, Princess," he whispered and kissed you one more time.

"See you soon, Princess!" You called after him as he disappeared out of the bedroom door.

As soon as he was gone, Bradley rolled back. He had you laying on the bed in his arms. "How long do you think we got?" He asked, voice still groggy with sleep.

"At least an hour until he comes back with the energy of a golden retriever on steroids," you answered and tucked yourself against his chest.

Bradley's large hands were warm against your back. "G'night, Princess."

"Goodnight, pri-"

"Don't you fucking dare."

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emeraldserenade · 1 day ago

Text

Hotel Blues ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: it's your first time staying at a hotel by yourself

tw: fem!reader, limited use of y/n, middle class family background, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

Me projecting what I'm feeling in the hotel tonight? What? Nooooo. But seriously, tonight is my first night ever staying alone in a hotel room and I'm oddly really sad. I'm trying to keep myself distracted before going to bed.

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You've been in hotels before, a lot. You used to go on vacations and stay in them when you moved. But there was something about being alone, you knew you could call your friend you were visiting and have them come stay with you. However, you also knew that they were having some aches and pains and you didn't want them to be uncomfortable. So you were alone in the room with the deadbolt locked and your safety measures within reach.

You showered, it was at first freeing, showering and walking around without the worry about someone seeing you. But once you sat down and started to eat your dinner, you got hit with a sudden sadness. You realized you have spent the last over 24 hours with your friend, and normally you would have someone just a walk or look away. But you were all alone now, no one but you in the room and the TV could only do so much.

Which is why you threw on some extra layers, grabbed your room key, your phone, and left the room. You wandered to the elevator and decided that maybe some time outside where the benches are would help. It's how you met Joaquín, he was on the benches with his friends.

You heard about them, Captain America, Falcon, and the reformed Winter Soldier. You just smiled at them and sat on a bench a little farther away, you scrolled on your phone for a bit but ended up just staring out at the sky.

"You good?" You heard Captain America ask, you hadn't realized you were crying until then. The tears were just flowing down your face and you just nodded while you wiped them away.

"Yeah, thanks for asking," you told him and gave him a tight lipped smile. You could tell he didn't believe you but he didn't press any further. You watched as him and the reformed Winter Soldier walked away, Falcon stayed back.

"I'm Joaquín, by the way," he stuck his hand towards you.

"Oh, y/n," you offered your name quickly.

"I know you said you were ok, but do you want to talk about it?"

You hesitated, you didn't know him but who else could you tell? "I've never stayed in a hotel alone. My family wasn't rich, to save money we would all stay in one hotel room. And even last night my friend stayed with me but she was having some pain, so I let her stay at her house. And at first it was cool, but then I was sitting in bed and eating my leftovers for dinner. And suddenly, it was like I was just washed with sadness," you sighed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to rant to you," you told him.

"It's ok, I understand it. I come from a big family, I was an only child but we always had other family members over. When I moved out the first time and lived alone after bootcamp, it was jarring. The quiet and stillness," Joaquín confided in you.

"How'd you deal with it?"

"I got a dog."

"I don't think I should get a dog just for a few nights," you laughed.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You hesitated outside your door, Joaquín had offered to stay in your room with you over night. You had agreed but now were realizing how odd it was. You bit the bullet and opened the door, beelining for the bed you were staying in. Joaquín walked to the other one and flopped down, the sound of the TV in the background of you two getting comfortable.

"I know I said this was for your benefit, but it was my night to sleep on the couch and I'm happy to be in a bed," Joaquín admitted and you laughed at him.

"Glad I could be of some help," you muttered and pulled the blanket up to your neck. "Feel free to turn the TV off whenever you'd like," you told him, sleep slowly pulling at you. You watched with half closed eyes as he set the sleep timer to 60 minutes on the TV before you both turned off the lights and went to bed. You didn't feel the wash of sadness anymore, just having someone you trusted, to an extent, was helpful.

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Masterlist | Requests

#joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x you #mcu #cabnw #cabnw spoilers #marvel mcu

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knight-of-flowerss · 2 days ago

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Omg sweet blue collar mechanic cregan and his like kinda stuck up spoilt girlfriend reader would be >>>

their dynamic would be so cute her pouting and needing his help all the time and him just being her lap dog

OH MY GOD YOU ARE SO SMARTTTT and yes 100% he would do ANYTHING!!! He's like a big puppy dog but looks like he could batter u 😭

Mechanic!Cregan Stark x Stuck up!Reader

MDNI 18+!!!!

MASTERLIST

🔧•Working at a chop shop was something Cregan didn't think he'd be doing at twenty seven.

🔧•I mean, he's done a ton of illegal shit, of course he has. He literally used to work for the Targaryen's.

🔧•Crime is all Cregan ever knew. By the time he was 15, both his parents had tragically died and he was stuck with his uncle. Unfortunately, his uncle was abusive and cruel, leading Cregan to run away from home.

🔧•That's how he found himself tangled in the Targaryen crime family. He had went to school with some not so friendly people up north that got him in contact with a certain someone down south.

🔧•Aegon Targaryen was Cregan's age, just a few months younger. He had started the whole 'empire' by just being a teen addicted to drugs, but with his wealth, he managed to buy out suppliers and warehouses and he slowly became the biggest supplier of snout, green, ket. Anything you can think of, he supplies.

🔧•Aegon helped Cregan get on his feet at seventeen years old, giving him a job at the mechanic's that he owned, a secret chop shop while also being a front for money laundering. In Aegon's eyes, he killed two birds with one stone.

🔧•And there, Cregan got good at what he did. Learning under Harwin Strong, he knew how to do anything and everything on cars. And Harwin didn't just teach him how to fix cars.

🔧•On breaks, Harwin would teach Cregan how to fight. Cregan had a slight idea on how to fight, he had to defend himself against his uncle a few times but that was the only thing he was good at, defense. Harwin decided to teach Cregan offence.

🔧•You're probably thinking, why? Why would Harwin teach Cregan to fight? Well, being involved in drugs and crime, you need to know how to defend yourself. Especially since the people from Essos and Skagos have started to integrate into Westeros, bringing their own threats with them.

🔧•Cregan's done it all, seen it all, heard it all. Being the muscle of the operation, he's been through it all.

🔧•But it's died down now, he's thrown himself into more of his work at the chop shop, and that's where he met you.

🔧•A Porsche had been stolen by Luke and Joffrey and brought to the shop. That was their job, stealing. Being only ten and fourteen, they went under the police radar so they could get their slippery hands on anything, including your Porsche.

🔧•You were distraught, on the verge on calling the police when your friend Baela stopped you, begged you not to. She admitted that it was probably her boyfriend's younger brothers who stole it and it would be at the shop.

🔧•Next thing you know you're storming down to the shop in your red bottomed heels and tiny dress in the roughest part of Kingslanding.

🔧•"Oh my gods!" You shout as you walk to the shop, seeing your once gorgeous Porsche getting ripped apart for pieces. Cregan, who was in the middle of taking the bumper off, turns around to see who shouted.

🔧•He's met with the sight of you, purse in one hand and phone in the other staring in horror as he destroys your car. You storm towards him, your heels clicking furiously on the concrete.

🔧•He stands up, towering high over you as you cross your arms. "What the actual fuck do you think you're doing?!"

🔧•Cregan just stares at you, eyes widened just slightly, his mouth parted just barely, as if he was mute. "Hello?! Are you fucking deaf?!" You shout in his face.

🔧•He just shakes his head, never tearing his eyes off of you. In all his years, he'd never been silenced by a pretty girl.

🔧•Cregan didn't know how it happened. One moment, he's zoned out as you scream in his face about the car, your car that he's tearing up. And the next.. the next he's 'repaying' you with his cock in the backseat of your torn up Porsche.

🔧•Your head is lulled out of the backseat window, your tits spilling over too as he fucks you from behind.

🔧•Cregan's cheek smushes up against your spine, his brows furrowed and eyes closed. He couldn't help but enter that stage of dumbness that he was in before, soft groans leaving his lips.

🔧•His heavy balls smacks against your puffy lips, his pubic hair catching lightly against your clit each time. He's lucky Harwin wasn't in today, or else Cregan would be getting a right telling off in the office right now.

🔧•But now, he lets himself indulge in your sweet cunt, the squelching making his cock twitch each time he hears it.

🔧•His hands move forward, yanking you in the car some more. Your nipples catch against the little nook of where the window is currently winded down and a whine rips itself from your lips.

🔧•Cregan's hands reach to paw at your tits. Typical rich girl, tiny little tits but a big attitude. But he didn't mind, in fact, Cregan was a dirty fucking pervert for small tits. He doesn't know what it is but they drive him fucking feral.

🔧•After your little.. fiasco.. he finally speaks, his thick northern accent making your legs buckle, and not just because you'd been fucked within an inch of your life.

🔧•He told you his name and even offered to get Lucerys and Joffrey to steal another car for you, any brand you wanted. Of course, you declined, you don't fuck with second hand shit.

🔧•No one truly knows how it happens, not even Cregan himself, but you had begun to stick around. No labels, of course, but he was yours. Everyone knew it.

🔧•Cregan didn't really know what to do with himself. He had beaten guys to a pulp and murdered people who deserved it. He'd done drugs and even sold them to kids. But he still didn't know why he was so.. well.. submissive around you.

🔧•He wasn't submissive per se.. he just let you do the talking while his hand stayed on your hip.

🔧•He couldn't afford the latest Channel bag or the new PRADA heel, but he could fuck you. He could fuck you and make you feel like a fucking goddess.

🔧•Even if he couldn't supply you with the items that fill your wardrobe, he treat you the way you deserved. Well, a lot would say you didn't deserve it, but Cregan would just bury his head in between your thighs to silence any thought you had of their harsh words.

🔧•Basically, what I'm saying it that Cregan is a sheep in wolf's clothing and you, the reader, are a wolf in sheep's clothing. But he fucking loves you.

🔧•He's literally the boyfriend that would take care of you even if he's tired, he's still willing to fuck his pillow princess into the mattress, not letting her lift a finger, as if she ever would.

🔧•He's a perfect boyfriend and I would write more but I need to post something so 🧍‍♀️

I definitely wanna write more about Mechanic!Cregan but I just had to get something out before I go to Kurtis Conner tomorrow lmao 😭

Tags: @thethreeeyed-raven @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @cryinonthefloor553 @visenyablackwood

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