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cherryite · 4 months ago

Text

i got you.

summary. after a near death experience on a mission, your relationship with your childhood best friend mark shifts unexpectedly

content. childhood bestfriend!reader x mark grayson, superpowered!reader, neighbor!reader, fem!reader, friends to lovers, everyone knows but them trope, hurt/comfort, happy ending, slow burn (if you squint), yearning, love confessions, mutual pining (word count. 9,6k)

warnings. MDNI!!, depictions of violence, blood and injuries, implied underage drinking, drunk harassment, vomiting/puking, eventual smut, breeding kink (again if you squint), unsafe sex

author's notes. hi pookies, so this is probably bad, i have not written in ages so please ignore anything that's ooc (probably everything lolol), i'm just having fun with writing right now and trying to get back into it! not super canon compliant either whoops

Life just couldn’t go your way. Not that being ‘blessed’ with super speed and teleportation abilities really helped with that, or being in college, or the fact that you got your ass kicked whenever you did a little bit of world saving. Bleeding out while staring up at the sky, clouds swirling above with the sounds of chaos around you was not how you wanted to leave this world. Your throat is tight, Your baby blue suit is the same color as the sky above as blood seeps out of a hole in your side. You fear not even your advanced healing will save you now as you cough blood, the warm liquid spattering over your face. Running out of your ‘power bars’ as you called them was the first sign things were about to go bad. Your extremely fast metabolism as a result of your powers is often also a hindrance, if you go too long without energy, without calories, they become much less effective; you run slower, and can’t teleport as fast or far. And you ran out. Because of course, you did.

Rubble digs into your back, normally it would be painful if it weren’t for the fact that you could barely feel your fingers. You spit up again, blood covering your chin and coating your lips with the metallic smelling liquid. Your eyes search the skies, looking for flashes of blue, yellow, and pink. ‘Mark and Eve won’t let me die’ you think, though you have no idea where they are. The comms in your ears barely register to you as sounds become muffled.

“Rex, where’s Breeze? She’s supposed to be with you.” Eve’s voice, she sounds upset as she speaks your hero name, though in your blurry mind, you can’t decide in what capacity. More words are spoken, and people are yelling; you cough again as you feel your body rapidly try to heal itself to no avail. You can hear Rex’s voice over the static explaining where he had seen you last. You can hear Mark, panic lacing his voice, as he says he’ll go look for you. You almost smile. Mark, Invincible, your friend since childhood. Whatever ghost of a smile is on your lips is gone as quickly as it came. ‘I can’t let Mark see me die, he can’t be the one to find me,’ your mind races, and bile rises in your throat, not blood this time. You are so caught up in your mind, oblivious to the passing of time, that you barely feel large hands cup at your face and neck; your name is being yelled repeatedly, distraught and panic stricken. Your vision is blurry as you focus on the sight above you. Mark’s arms slip under your body, your hair hangs limply beneath you, as he lifts you carefully, inspecting your brutalized body frantically.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s me, it's Mark,” he is doing a terrible job of hiding the fear in his voice as he speaks, trying to seem comforting but it doesn’t really help because his voice shakes. He props you up with one arm, his other hand using his suit to wipe the blood from your chin and mouth. A shot of pain runs along your spine, but you barely register or react, a small whimper of pain is the only noise you make. You feel pressure on your wound, his warm hands slick with your blood, the frayed parts of your suit tickle you as he moves it to the side to get a better look.

“I got you, I got you,” Mark says, his voice thick like he’s got something stuck in his throat, his bottom lip quivers slightly. You feel the urge to reach up and cradle his face to comfort him like you used to do as kids, but your arm feels like it weighs like a ton of bricks.

“You got me,” you say, your voice so weak you can barely register as it tumbles from your lips, accompanied by another cough of blood. It splatters against Mark’s face, and you see him flinching as the metallic liquid touches his exposed skin. He carefully picks you up, his touch as gentle as he can be while he trembles. He says something about getting you back to the med bay, that you’ll be fine, that you have to be. Wind rushes over your body, but it just feels like your floating, your unfocused eyes trained on Mark’s face. He’s talking to you but you can’t hear it. The brown eyes you love to stare into are covered by his goggles and you wish you could see them, just once more before you die. Your body doesn’t register as your head lulls to the side limply, all you see is dark.

Your eyes shoot open, harsh white light blinds you instantly. You feel crushingly sluggish, your body aches, and your head pounds harshly in your skull. The light eventually stops being so bright, your eyes adjust, taking in your surroundings. The bed you're occupying is definitely a hospital bed, you’ve visited Mark in ones that look like this plenty of times before. The room is familiar too. Your brain connects that you're certainly in the med bay, your brain also realizes you're alive. As you continue to survey the area, your eyes spot two figures. Eve is curled up in a chair in the right corner, her head resting on the wall. A fuzzy blanket that you swear is from your room is slung over her and her red hair is pulled up in a messy ponytail. Mark lays to the left, slumped forward in his own chair, his head resting on the side of the hospital bed. His black hair is messy like he's been running his hands through it repeatedly. His back is angled terribly as he rests, you cringe to yourself at the thought of sleeping like that. Starting to regain feeling in your limbs, you feel a pressure on your hand. Mark’s hand clutches your own as he sleeps, scabs covering his knuckles. Your heart clenches in your chest, it beats against your ribcage with such force you almost think it’ll crack the bones if it continues. A machine to your right starts beeping, and you feel sick enough that you're afraid you're going to puke. The machine beeping wakes Eve and Mark, You close your eyes and scrunch up your face, you can feel Mark squeeze your hand. You try to calm your breathing. You hear Eve say she’s going to go to talk to one of the doctors, slipping out of the room. You hate hospitals, you hate the med bay, you hate this.

When you finally reopen your eyes, they immediately connect with Mark’s brown ones. They’re staring at you like you’ve just hung the stars and defied the laws of death (which you basically had). A smile curls at your lips because he has the biggest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen and it makes your heart race.

“Hey you,” you manage out, your voice is hoarse and it cracks as you speak. Mark’s face has an unreadable expression on it, perhaps one of disbelief but more muted. Maybe it’s relief, you're not sure as his face scrunches slightly. His hand clutches yours tightly, his gaze never leaves your face.

“I thought you died,” he says weakly, shifting closer to you.

You scoff tiredly. “Can’t get rid of me that easily.” He does not like that answer, even though you're trying to lighten the mood. His gaze doesn’t leave your face, he has light bags under his pretty brown eyes, making you frown. The idea of him not sleeping makes your stomach twist. There’s a beat of silence before his hand reaches out to cup your cheek, his fingers tenderly stroking your cheek. The air nearly leaves your lungs. Affection between them was normal, a common occurrence. It made sense with how long they had known each other. But this felt different, something was different.

You think of a fond memory of when they were younger, 6 and 7 respectively. Mark tripped and fell while chasing you around in your driveway, scraping his knees pretty badly. Your heart had dropped as you heard him plummet to the pavement with a ‘thud’. He cried as sobs racked his body, fat tears rolling down his sweet rosy cheeks. You had cradled him while he cried, resting his head on your tiny chest, stroking his hair as you spoke to him.

“I got you, Mark,” you had said, your voice tiny, sweet as candy as he absentmindedly twisted the end of one of your braids around his finger as he calmed down. Debbie had come over to check on the two of you not long after, taking him home to fix his knees up. Though not before he gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek, tears still visible on his face as he thanked you. Debbie hugged you as well and praised you for taking good care of Mark, a smile on her face. Even after they grew out of being bright faced babies, they stayed that way. Another memory that sticks with you is when they both had just entered 8th grade. Some boys had been teasing you at school, asking you out on dates for their own amusement. As they worked on homework at his house later that day, you were well aware you weren’t as chatty, not as energetic; not yourself in the slightest. Mark noticed, of course, his brows furrowed in concern at you as you worked diligently on your worksheet.

“Okay, what's up,” he had said eventually, catching you off guard. You shrugged, not looking up from your paper.

“Nothing's up, why,” you cringed inwardly to yourself, not being convincing in the slightest. Mark poked and prodded until he eventually got the truth out of you. The way his brown eyes softened as you had recounted the day as tears welled in your eyes, was forever ingrained in your mind. Eventually, it led to both of you laying on his bed, your hair sprawled out, covering your back as you cried into his chest. His hands carded through the silky strands, rubbing your back as you clung to him.

“Shhh, I got you,” he says, his words quiet, only for your ears. His chin rested on your head because he couldn’t stand to see you cry. Warm, salty tears soaked his shirt, your hands clinging to his sides. Eventually, both of you had fallen asleep, homework discarded and sown around the floor of Mark’s room. When your mom frantically knocked on the Grayson’s door, she and Debbie were not surprised to find them curled together in Mark’s bed. Your mom simply told Debbie to send you back over in the morning, a soft smile on her face. You could think of dozens of times when similar occurrences had happened: cuddling during movie night, comforting touches, running hands through each other's hair. Something was different. But what scared you even more was that you were starting to realize it wasn’t that different. Not as different as you had tricked yourself into believing for years.

His hand is still warm against your cheek and you have no idea how long you’ve been spiraling for. Your heart thumps painfully, as his thumb brushes against the fat of your cheek.

“You scared me,” Mark says, his voice falters and your eyes pool with tears because, albeit indirectly, you caused your best friend a great deal of pain. You start to sniffle, your face screwing up as you start to cry. You’ve barely even started to process that you almost died, gone forever, gone from the people you care so deeply for. Mark’s voice hits your ears as you close your eyes to start to bawl, gasping breaths leaving your lips as tears run down them into your mouth. He’s speaking but you're so focused on crying you can’t hear him, all you feel is him adjusting you in this stupid hospital bed and crawling in beside you. Strong arms pull you against his chest, and you bury your face in his neck, muttering against his skin, “I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry Mark.” You can feel him tense slightly, your hot, wet breaths heaving against his skin. He all but coos as he drags his hands through your hair, admiring the way the light glistens off the strands. His voice crackles as he speaks.

“I got you. I’m not- I’m not going anywhere. You’re not going anywhere. You’re staying right here with- with me.”

The last part almost seems like he’s trying to comfort himself instead of you, his grip tightening on your shaking form. You feel him nuzzle his cheek to your forehead, his deep breathing puffing hot air against your ear. A shiver ran up your spine, suddenly glad your face was buried in his neck, glad he couldn’t see the way your cheeks flushed involuntarily. Surely it was just because you were having a nervous breakdown, nothing else. You stay like that for a while, his hands soothing down her back all while being careful of any lingering wounds. The sobs and tears start to lessen, soon you’re just sniffling as he cradles you with as much care as ever.

“Better?” Mark’s lips brush against your ear as he speaks, his voice has a deeper tone to it as he questions you; not totally out of the ordinary considering he was only recently roused from sleeping.

“Better,” you confirm, pulling your face from his neck, and wiping your eyes messily before Mark’s hand cups your cheek, gentle fingers brushing away any tears. You barely realize how close the both of you are, faces inches apart as your breaths intermingle due to proximity. Your eyes flutter open, looking up at him through your wet lashes.

“Thanks, Mark,” you say softly, your eyes unable to drag themselves from his own eyes. Your heart is in your throat, his thumb still absentmindedly brushing over your flushed skin.

“Any-Anytime,” he mumbles back, his breath hitching as he speaks, the sudden tension in the room laying over them like a weighted blanket. His eyes flicker down to your lips for a fleeting second, you would probably not have even noticed it if his face wasn’t so close. You barely register as his face inches closer, the hand that rests on your cheek trembles with adrenaline. You suck in a shaking breath. No way, no way this is happening right now. Maybe you really did die and this is what the afterlife is like. The door opening startles you so badly that you nearly smack your forehead into his as you both scamper apart, both your faces red and your lungs breathless. Eve stands half awkwardly, half coyly at the door, over her shoulders are the doctors she said she was going to get when she left earlier.

“Uh, I got the doctors,” she says, biting her lip. You aren’t sure if she's trying to keep from laughing or out of sheer embarrassment about what she just walked in on. Mark slides out of the hospital bed, the loss of his warmth makes your heart sink. Doctors file in, Mark walks to the door by Eve to leave as the doctors work. His eyes find yours before they shut the door, leaving your heart racing in your chest and your mind muddled with thoughts of ‘what the hell just happened’.

Recovery thankfully comes easy due to your powers, but you definitely sense a different vibe whenever your deployed for a mission. You’ve kept pretty much off field for any mission deemed more dangerous than normal. Ultimately it’s more of a blessing than a curse, it gives you more time to do schoolwork, more free time. However, this unfortunately means less Mark time as well. It still stings a bit when the rest of the team departs for a mission, leaving you behind. Things have been more or less ‘normal’ between both of you since the confusing encounter in your hospital bed, almost as if it didn’t happen at all. He’s still sweet, awkward Mark, but sometimes he smiles and your stomach flips more than normal. Last week, Mark had chattered on and on about the new Seance Dog installment, his voice on speaker, blaring from your phone as you did your nightly skincare routine. You laughed to yourself at his excitement, you could almost hear the pout in his voice as he spoke.

“Why are you laughing? I’m giving you a very in depth plot recap right now! Pay attention.” Mark’s voice has an air of humor to it, causing you to giggle to yourself.

“I am paying attention, you’re just cute when you ramble,” you say nonchalantly, not even realizing you slip up until your brain catches up with your mouth. Mark’s silent aside for the faint rustling of his bedsheets, almost like he just sat up in bed. Before he can respond, your mouth opens again, “Ah well! I gotta shower, talk to you tomorrow yeah?”

He barely gets out a strangled ‘okay’ before you hang up the call and run your hands down your face in pure misery and embarrassment.

Aside from your internal conflict, Eve has decided it’s time to let loose for once this Saturday, go out, and have fun like normal young adults. You find yourself desperately needing a distraction from the mess in your mind in regards to Mark, so when Rex suggests they go to a bar (he says he ‘knows a guy’ who bounces there so it will be no problem to get in), you are arguably the most excited to go.

Saturday comes without a hitch and before you know it, you and Eve are stumbling down the sidewalk to the bar, giggling your heads off, clinging to each other as you walk in the cool night air. Rex, Mark, William, and Rae trail not far behind. Rex is already drunk off his ass from the pregame, clinging to Rae as they walk.

“They are soooo not gonna let you in if you don’t lock in immediately,” William calls out to the girls in front of them from beside Mark, who is the ‘sober sister’ for the night as William dubbed him, but Mark is barely paying attention. His brown eyes are fixated on you skipping arm in arm with Eve around 5 meters ahead of him, squealing with excitement as the group nears the bar. He swears he almost died when you and Eve showed up to the pregame because your outfit tonight was, to put it frankly, hot as fuck. Oversized black leather jacket to protect your frame from the night air, heeled black boots that reached your mid calf, tight black mini skirt, and a strapless dark red top; he could have died right then and there. Mark was so accustomed to your normal attire, sweatpants when they hung out, even your skin tight suit you wore when they were on missions, but this was a whole new beast. He knows this outfit is going to haunt his dreams for weeks to come. William elbows him in the ribs, hard, and Mark yelps at the sudden contact while turning his head to glare at his friend.

“Dude, what was that for?” Mark whines as they near the bar, getting in line to be let in with the rest of the group. William just rolls his eyes, a satisfied look on his face.

“If you keep staring I think she’s gonna explode or something, control your dick Mark,” William says slyly, Mark’s hand immediately covering his mouth to prevent others from hearing his friend's words. He hears Rae and Rex snicker to themselves ahead of them in line and he feels the heat rush to his face.

“William!” he grits out, his face nearly the color of the top your wearing, “Knock it off.”

William licks his hand, causing Mark to recoil with disgust, glaring at him as the sounds of Rex chatting with his bouncer friend drifts through the air.

“I’ll stop when you grow some balls. It’s getting pathetic, I can’t lie.” Before Mark can even respond, Rex is waving their group into the bar. You turn from your spot beside Eve, looking back to Mark and William. Your smile is bright, your cheeks are flushed from the shots you did before they left for the bar. Mark thinks he’s dreaming, you grab his arm, tugging at it.

“Come on slowpokes!” you say in a singsong voice. A strand of your hair is stuck in your lip gloss and Mark has to actively restrain his hand from brushing his thumb against your lip to clear it. He scolds himself in his mind as you drag him into the bar, over to join the rest of their group as William follows behind you both. Things have been different lately, ever since you nearly died on the last mission you were on: your touches linger more than they used to, his breath catches more than normal when you text him, and his heart races when you smile at him. Not that any of this was super new, but for as long as Mark can remember he’s felt similar sensations when interacting with his best friend, his pretty neighbor. But these sensations, these feelings, were more intense and growing by the day. Mark used to be able to brush off the butterflies in his stomach when you would call his name, when you would pull him into an earth shattering hug after a mission, when they would cuddle during their weekly movie nights; it wasn’t as easy to ignore anymore, it invaded his thoughts for much longer than it used to. Liking her wasn’t new for him, but whatever this was, definitely was.

They all reach the bar, two rounds of shots later, everyone, save Mark, is significantly intoxicated, their drunk minds blabbering about whatever pops into their minds. Tonight is karaoke night at the bar, four drunk guys are currently doing an awful rendition of ‘You Belong With Me’ by Taylor Swift which has Rex and Rae singing along drunkenly. You are tucked into his side, practically leaning on him for support as you argue with William about what the funniest Tiktok brain rot is. His arm is wrapped around your back, his hand rests on your shoulder, a safety measure to make sure you don’t fall. Or that's what he tells himself at least. Mark hopes you can’t feel how fast his heart beats against his ribcage, your shoulder leaning on his chest as your head tilts back, giggling drunkenly as you hear William say some joke that is definitely not funny to any sober person. In the dark lights of the bar, he really hopes no one can see his deeply flushed face or the way he cannot tear his eyes from you. It’s totally not because he can see down your top right now from this angle or that your soft hair is tickling his neck when you move. Or that the smell of perfume clinging to your skin makes him want to bury his nose into your neck and never leave. His grip on your shoulder tightens, deciding he should actually contribute to the conversation, just before Eve pushes her way through the crowd. She dashes towards you, a drunk smile on her face as she puts her hands on the speedster’s shoulders to steady herself.

“We’re up next in karaoke! Prepare your vocal cords!” Eve says excitedly, dragging you away towards the front, “Sorry boys! I’m stealing her for a bit!” The two of you disappear into the crowd before Mark can even utter a goodbye, he barely catches sight of you as you turn your head over your shoulder, catching his eyes before Eve pulls you away. He stares at the spot you just disappeared from, William wags his eyebrows at him suggestively.

“You are down so tremendously it shocks me you haven’t melted into a puddle yet,” William quips, Rex and Rae, coming over to join them as you and Eve crawl onto the small stage at the front of the dance floor, picking out a song with the DJ. Mark doesn’t say anything, he just rolls his eyes in response, a small smile still curling at his lips. Rae and Rex start singing ‘Two dorks sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G’ as they make kissy faces at each other and Mark once again is thankful for the partial darkness of the bar.

Music starts and you and Eve start your karaoke session, passionately singing ‘Juno’ by Sabrina Carpenter, dancing around the stage goofily. Mark desperately tries to ignore that the lyrics are raunchy as all hell, which proves difficult because he’s fully engaged in the words leaving your mouth. Trying not to imagine you two doing the lyrics in real life is an even harder challenge.

He especially tries to ignore the way heat runs through his body when you both sing ‘wanna try out some freaky positions?’ Eve pushes on your upper back, pushing you down from behind, bending you over at an acute angle as you both drunkenly giggle out the next line of the song ‘have you ever tried this one?’ Mark nearly combusts when he makes eye contact with you, and you smile at him before standing fully upright and continuing to drunkenly sing with Eve. William is giggling beside him because Mark has been staring unwaveringly at you nearly the whole time, practically drooling at the sight.

“Oh, he wants that cookie baddddd,” William says, his speech slightly slurred as Rex nearly dies of laughter beside him, as the music dies down and hoards of drunk people whoop and holler. You and Eve jump down from the stage as the DJ says they’re taking a quick break from karaoke and ‘No Hands’ blasts out of the speakers. Both of you disappear from view into the sea of people but Mark swears he sees the smile you flashed at him when he blinks.

On the dance floor post karaoke session, you and Eve giggle with each other, completely oblivious to the world around you two. Sweaty, drunk people cage you both close to each other, separating you both from the rest of the group who have set up camp at the edge of the dance floor near the bar. Rae is forcing Rex to drink water, but you can faintly hear him protesting. Eve’s lips brush against your ear so you can hear her over the blasting music.

“He wants you, bad, like bad, did you even see how he was looking at you!” Her words cause you to flush, leaning in to respond.

“Mark always looks at me like that,” you yell in Eve’s ear. The redhead rolls her eyes playfully, her hands gripping your shoulders to keep you close.

“That’s the point!” Eve starts her voice giddy, but before Eve can finish, you feel a tap on your shoulder, your heart racing as you turn. Unfortunately, it’s not Mark, who you were hoping it would be, and your smile falters a bit as you stare up at the tall man next to them. Eve glances over your shoulder to get a good look. He’s probably mid 20’s, his eyes droop drunkenly, and his voice slurs as he speaks.

“You ladies looked good up there, real captivating performance.” Eve pops her head out from behind you, eyeing him up and down.

“Uh thanks,” Eve responds civilly, smiling cautiously at this random drunk man. The guy drunkenly leans in closer, his lips curling up wolfishly. You, even in your drunk haze, can smell the alcohol on his breath as his next words wash over them.

“It was super sexy, I totally would wanna see you guys do that pose again in my bedroom later.” Eve stiffens behind you, and the hands she has on your shoulders tighten. You use your hand to push the redhead behind you more, out of sight of the man in front of them. Suddenly you feel painfully sober as you digest his words.

“Hah, sorry no, we aren’t interested,” you try to brush him off, your stomach churns as he steps closer, and Eve’s hands grip your shoulders.

“Oh come on ladies, ya’ gotta unwind a little, pretty girls like you shouldn’t be going home alone tonight,” he reaches forward, brushing a strand of your hair from your face. You flinch as his sweaty fingertips touch your face, your eyes wide with shock. Your eyes flicker around but you see no easy exit in the crowd of drunk people.

“Hey, she said no dickhead,” Eve pipes up behind you, her voice forceful, “We aren’t interested, did you hear her the first time?”

“Oh, feisty, I like it,” he slurs, his eyes focusing on Eve behind you. His grimy hand reaches back to try and touch her too, but before he can, your hand makes contact with his face, hard. The creep stumbles a bit, shocked at the sudden assault, people around turn to watch through the crowd, absentmindedly dancing still.

“I said, we aren’t interested,” you say, gritting your teeth as your eyebrows pinch together angrily, your hand is gripping Eve’s now who’s trying to drag you both away as the crowd disperses a bit, creating an exit, “Don’t touch me or my friend again freak!” Eve drags you away from the drunk guy, spying your friends in the crowd, who have started to see the commotion with wide eyes as they move toward the two of you to back you both up. You and Eve turn your backs to him. You immediately make eye contact with Mark, whose eyes are trained on you, his face pinched together with concern as he quickly makes his way over to you. Your heart clenches in your chest at the sight as he nears you both.

But before you and Eve can get too far, the creep yells out after you, clutching his face, his eyes piercing as he watches Mark advance toward you.

“Maybe you wouldn’t be such a fucking bitch if you got laid once in a while, tell your stupid boyfriend I feel sorry for him!” You see red as the words leave his mouth, whipping around in Eve’s hold as Rae abandons Rex, passing his drunk body to William so she can help hold you back. In their hold, you point a finger at him, and your voice shakes with anger.

“Talk to me or my friends like that again and I’ll do much worse than smacking you!” you shout out completely fueled by adrenaline at this point, as you’re pulled back to the group. You watch as the dude just laughs, disappearing back into the crowd. Your breathing is heavy as the adrenaline wears off, Eve and Rae release their hold on you to give you some space. Your stomach feels queasy.

“I’m gonna puke,” you manage out, walking hastily towards the exit of the bar. You hear Mark call after you, his voice dripping with concern as his footsteps follow after you. You hear William gag, “Oh good god she’s gonna blow chunks all over him.”

The chilly night air immediately hits you, your heels clicking against the pavement as you duck around the corner into an alleyway. You bend over, effectively throwing up nearly all the alcohol you had just consumed. There’s a presence behind you and you immediately know it’s Mark, you don’t even have to look up. Continuing to throw up, you feel his hands gently brush the hair from your face, pulling it out of the way so you don’t get puke in your hair. You continue to gag, Mark’s free hand rubs small circles on your back as comfort. Eventually, your stomach stops contracting, your eyes are watery from puking your guts out. Blearily, you turn your head to look at the man beside you.

“Sorry you had to see that,” you mumble to yourself, you hear Mark huff quietly.

“It’s no problem, there was no way I was going to let you puke in this sketchy alley all alone,” Mark’s voice is soft with a hint of jest as he soothes his large palms down your arms in comfort. You both stay like that for a beat, before you lean forward, your head resting on his chest. He instinctively wraps his arms around you as you lean on him, his heart pounds against his rib cage.

“I didn’t like how that guy talked to you, I didn’t mean to go all crazy on him,” you mumble against his chest. You do not bring up that he referred to Mark as your boyfriend, but that is hardly relevant right now.

“Seems like he deserved to get put in his place way before that,” he remarks, his hands clutching onto the back of your jacket, his chin resting on the crown of your head.

“Yeah, he was being all weird to me and Eve, gross and touchy,” you trail off as you feel Mark stiffen slightly.

“Hey, hey, did he touch either of you? Did he touch you?” Mark pulls you from his chest to look at you, his eyes big, worried. The tone of his voice sends shivers down your spine, it’s soft but still demanding, persistent. You shake your head.

“No, not like that thankfully, I’m okay,” you assure him, your hand cupping his jaw as you look up at him, your eyes still wet from earlier. He nearly melts into your touch as he nods at your words, his cheek chasing the warmth your palm brings. The air nearly crackles with intensity, every touch of his skin sends sparks through your body. With your heart blaring in your ears, he nervously bites the inside of his cheek, his brown eyes still staring down at you, a mix of something you cannot place swirling in his irises.

“Can I, uh, can I ask you something?” His tone is hesitant, quiet, his throat bobs as he speaks. You feel like all the air has been sucked from your lungs, you feel like your heart is going to burst.

“Anything,” you breathe out, your eyes searching his face as you wait for him to speak. No way this is happening right now, in a random alley, where you just vomited profusely. Mark’s mouth opens slightly like he's about to speak, when your ears pick up on the sound of their friends, Rex is ranting about something and Rae is telling him to shut up. Mark seems to hear it too, his eyes flickering over to the sound. He squeezes you, reluctantly pulling away and you feel your heart drop instantly.

“Uh, are we still on for movie night tomorrow?” He says, his voice tinged with anxiety, bringing a hand to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. You blink at him, nodding silently as William turns the corner.

“Hey, vomit comet, we’re leaving, get the nerd and hurry up,” he calls out, pulling you from your Mark centric haze. You wrap your arms around yourself, the cold chill of the night settling in your bones. Neither of you two say anything as you meander back to your friends. Eve pulls you into a hug, slinging her arm over your shoulder as you walk back towards the car with the others trailing behind, similarly to how the night started.

The drive back home is torture. Mark drives since he’s the only one not stumbling drunk out of all of you. You try to sleep through the ride, but your brain buzzes with jumbled thoughts. Mark’s eyes keep flickering back to look at you in the rear view mirror and you accidentally make awkward eye contact two or three times. Your place is one of the later drop offs and your eyes droop with a mix of drunkenness and sleepiness. You slip out of the car, bidding goodbyes to Mark and William, the only people left in the car. While unlocking the door to your home, you toss a glance over your shoulder, meeting Mark’s eyes through the car window before slinking inside, hoping sleep comes to you quickly.

The Sunday scaries hit you hard when you wake up in the morning. You groan into your pillow as your head throbs painfully, your hands immediately fumbling around your bedside table to locate some painkillers. Popping two of them in your mouth, you suck down the water in your water bottle like you haven’t drank in days. Remembering the previous night's events makes your whole body shiver with anxiety. After rotting in bed for half the day, you finally open your phone to see tons of notifications. Two are from William, he's asking if you’re alive and also if you’re as violently hungover as he is, Eve messaged you once to make sure you slept okay, and your breath hitches to see you have three messages from Mark. You swipe into the messaging app, clicking on Mark’s contact.

mark!!: remember to take an advil in the morning

mark!!: also remember to eat something please

mark!!: also also, movie night @ 7 tonight? your place?

Your heart stutters in your chest. Nothing out of the ordinary, this is typical Mark behavior, but something about it sends your heart soaring. A response is quickly typed up and sent, agreeing to the time and promising to take care of yourself today. He responds almost immediately.

mark!!: okay, excited to see you tonight :)

You simply heart the message before tossing your phone away and falling face first onto the soft pillows of your bed. A giddy scream rips from your throat, muffled by the pillow. After a moment of spiraling, you flip over, staring at your ceiling, an array of glow in the dark stars stare back, dim in the early afternoon light. The way your heart speeds up, the way you can’t get the smile off your face, makes reality come crashing down on you. You are deeply in love with your best friend and it scares you. Hangxiety takes hold of your body, your gut squeezes nervously, the air in your lungs feels thick, and your blood rushes through your veins. This revelation endangers what you hold most dear; the relationship with Mark that you’ve been cultivating for a bit more than a decade.

You spend the rest of the day stuck in your own head. Nothing helps calm the storm raging in your mind. The homework you planned to do sits abandoned, books are picked up just to be sat right back down when you cannot focus on a single page of words. Time passes slowly as you spend most of the rest of the afternoon too stressed to do anything before Mark is supposed to be there at seven.

It’s five minutes to seven when you hear your window slide open. You thankfully powered through your anxious mind to change into pajamas, opting for an oversized t-shirt and a pair of soft sleep shorts. You tear your gaze from your phone, watching Mark climb through the window, a borderline nervous smile on his face as he waves at you a bit. Your eyes rake over him from head to toe. He’s wearing a pair of simple blue pajama pants and a t-shirt William got him for his birthday last year that reads ‘I <3 HOT NERDS’.

“You’re early,” you say, glancing at your phone clock, “when are you ever early to anything?” The tease in your voice drips from your words, Mark rolls his eyes and plops down beside you on your bed. His eyes shine in the lowlight of your room, only the soft glow of string lights illuminating its walls, and it makes your breath hitch.

“I’d never be late to movie night,” he answers, staring up at you from where he lays on your bed. You raise an eyebrow at him, your face says it all. Mark runs his hands down his face, a tinge of embarrassment in his tone.

“Okay, maybe once or twice, but I was saving the planet,” he says, whining because you’ve already started to poke fun at him. You flick his ear, earning a small ‘hey!’ from Mark as you grab your laptop from the floor beside your bed, he writhes in ‘pain’, continuing to bemoan over how mean you’re being.

“Get up dork we have a movie to watch,” you hum, pulling up a streaming service while Mark crawls up to you and rests his back against the headboard beside you. Heat radiates from how close he is, your shoulders brushing as he peers over your shoulder at the laptop screen. A shiver of delight runs down your spine as his breath wafts over your neck.

“What are we watching?” he asks curiously, as you set the laptop down in front of you both. Pulling a throw blanket over both your bodies, he scoots closer, fully invading your space now.

“Hercules,” you answer, the title credits for the movie starting. Mark just hums in agreement, snuggling up in the blanket with you. His arm tentatively slides over your shoulders, drawing you further into his orbit.

“Good pick,” he says, his voice sending another spark down your spine. The way his voice gets raspy when he’s tired has your heart pounding in your chest, which has you praying that even with his super hearing he doesn’t notice. You curl closer hoping the movie will help distract you from the yearning feeling that settles in your lower stomach.

It does not help. You find yourself hyper aware of every movement he makes. The flex of his bicep behind you against your shoulder blades when he squeezes your shoulder. The way his chest vibrates as he hums along to the songs in the movie. The way you can feel his abs pressing against you. Just him. That distracts you. The both of you are practically entangled by a little more than three quarters of the way through the movie. Your right leg rests crossed over his right one, occasionally feeling this thigh muscle twitch underneath you. Your head rests on his chest, eyes glued to the movie, curled into his side.

Though, if you had looked up at his face, you would find a borderline terrified look taking over Mark’s expression. His face feels red hot, the blood coursing through his body flushing his skin. He can’t focus either, your body curled into him, back arching slightly and your leg entangled with his. The smell of your shampoo in your hair is nearly intoxicating. Mark feels dizzy because this feels very different from previous cuddle sessions. Sometimes you shift, basically bumping your crotch against his hip and he starts begging to whoever's listening to keep him from popping a boner. That does not work in the slightest. Mark is barely paying any attention to the movie, his mind frantically trying to figure out a game plan on how to deal with his unwanted friend. He groans involuntarily, his eyes wide as he realizes the sound that just erupted from him. The hand on your shoulder squeezes. You catch the sound that comes from him, tilting your head up to try and get a look at him.

“You good?” you question, adjusting again to try and position yourself in his hold better. Your blood damn near runs cold as he whimpers, turning his head away from you, but you can see the heat creeping up his neck.

“Yeah, yeah I’m, totally good,” he murmurs, his voice pitching as you place a hand on his chest to prop yourself up better, your hips sliding against his thigh. Mark intakes a sharp breath, his free hand flying to your hip as he says your name in a pleading voice. You freeze, your heart in your throat at the feeling of his large hand gripping your hip bone.

“Please, stop… moving,” Mark says, his voice breathy, his pupils blown wide. Your brain catches up quickly as your eyes widen, positively mortified because now you can feel his hard on against your thigh from your new position. Still, you can’t bring yourself to pull away.

“Oh fuck, Mark I didn’t even realize,” you start to apologize, you’re voice panicked. Because what if he hated you now? What if you’d made him uncomfortable and now a lifelong friendship was ruined over Mark getting a boner and your newly realized crush on him. Mark runs his tongue over his lips a deep, shaky exhale leaving his parted lips. You want to reach up and crash your lips against his, but you don’t.

“This is so not how I wanted this to go,” he mutters to himself in solemn disappointment, his hand absentmindedly gripping your hip. You just stare at him dumbly, your brain lagging again. His eyes finally drift down to yours, his throat bobbing because he can’t believe what he’s about to do.

“Can I kiss you?” he says softly, a nervous tremble coating his words. Your faces are only inches apart, just like they were in the hospital bed about a month ago. A shaky ‘yes’ barely passes your lips before his hand on your shoulder slides to cup the back of your neck. He pulls you into him, his lips pressing against yours and your eyes flutter shut from bliss. Both of you shake, your movements hesitant as you part your lips, deepening the kiss.

His hand grips your hip, tugging you swiftly into his lap as his lips move languidly against your own, a gasping breath escaping you as you feel his hard on beneath you. With a swipe to his bottom lip, he eagerly lets you slip your tongue into his mouth, sliding it against his own, drawing a blissful whine from him. Oxygen deprived and anxiety running high, you reluctantly part your lips from his. Both of you pant heavily, a thin trail of spit connecting both of your puffy lips, your breaths wavering with adrenaline and desire.

“How was that?” you question quietly, nervousness pooling in your eyes. The sight of him alone could make you faint: his muscular chest rising and falling as to catch his breath, his lips kiss bitten and red, just like his face is heavily flushed. His eyes swim with affection, gazing up at you like you’re a figment of his imagination and could vanish from his hold any second.

“Better than I ever imagined,” Mark breathes out, his eyes raking over your face, the corners of his lips quirking upward. Your face mirrors his, your shaky hands cupping his jawline, taking in the warmth his body provides. He speaks again, “I’m not dreaming right? I won’t wake up in a few minutes to find out I imagined it all?”

You suck in a breath, before pressing a soft kiss to his lips, your fingers caressing his jawline. You barely pull away, breath fanning over his lips.

“I’m very real Mark,” it comes out a desperate whisper, your voice sweet music to his ears as his fingers dig into the meat of your hips. His gaze is hypnotizing as he practically ogles you.

“I never- I never thought,” he trails off, at a loss for words. You could care less about talking right now, talking could come after. Pressing your lips back to his, murmuring against his lips, “Mark, shut up and kiss me again.”

And oh boy does he kiss you. His lips move urgently against yours, devouring your lips into a passionate kiss, like he’s a man starved and you are the only thing he needs to keep living. His long fingers toy with the waistband of your pajama shorts, leaving your core tightening in anticipation from just his soft lingering touches. The kiss is fueled with want, both of you completely losing yourselves to each other as Mark’s lithe fingers slide up your thigh.

In between kisses, he barely manages out, “can I touch you, please.” You don’t even respond, just nodding your head hurriedly, lifting your hips off his as he slides your shorts off. He’s trembling like a leaf when his fingers brush against the wet crotch of your underwear and he literally feels like he’s going to die as he moans into the kiss you two are still entangled in. Warm fingers pull your panties aside, his digits sliding against your slick folds.

You whimper at his touch, restraining yourself from grinding down on his fingers as he traces soft figure eights against you. The kiss breaks as you both catch your breath, his forehead rests against yours as he continues to massage his fingers against you. Mark makes eye contact with you, his mouth hanging open as he rubs your clit with his thumb. The feeling of your legs trembling draws a whiney moan from his lips.

“You feel so warm,” he mutters, tentatively angling his hand so he can slide a finger into your velvety walls and your head falls to his shoulder at the sensation. Involuntarily, your hips grind down against his hand, you moan into the skin of his neck, starting to kiss messily at the skin there.

“More please,” you beg against his neck, your lips pressing heavy kisses as he slides his middle finger in to join his pointer finger, curling them against the spongy walls. His dick pulses painfully as he pulls breathless moans from your lips, the sound making his head spin and he has to bite his lips from moaning too. While pressing kisses to his skin, your hand reaches down to cup the bulge in his pants, causing his fingers to falter their pumping movements as he whimpers at the contact.

“Oh fuck,” he moans, his hips jutting upward to chase your touch. You pull your head from his neck, facing him again. Mark is enthralled by your beauty right now and it’s not because your pussy is clenching around his fingers as he curls them again. The hair on your head is ruffled, your lips rosy and full from kissing, your eyes blown wide with lust and a deep unmistakable affection. He sucks in a breath.

“Feels so good,” you babble, a breathy whine as you talk, “I- I need you, please Mark,”

His senses are on overdrive, his free hand reaching up to card his hand through your hair, his other hand still pumping his fingers into your squelching wet hole.

“Are- are you sure?” He questions, nervously bringing his brown eyes to yours. You almost laugh if he wasn’t assaulting your pussy with his fingers right now.

“Mark, if you don’t fuck me, like, right now,” you start, but don’t finish because Mark’s mouth is on yours instantly. Your body is flipped onto your back, thighs instinctually clamping around his hips. His fingers pull out of you and you whine at the loss of contact. Mark tosses his shirt over his head, tugging at yours and pulling it off. Both of you quickly shed the rest of your clothes, completely bare to each other.

You suddenly feel nervous, which is silly because he was just finger fucking you not even a minute ago. But the sight of his dick makes your head spin because there is probably a zero percent chance that will fit in you smoothly. Mark’s broad chest rises and falls as he surveys your body, sliding his way back on top of you, his hips falling between your own, his chest pressed against yours. Comforting fingers brush some strands from your face, and Mark looks star struck again, his brown eyes shining in the lowlight.

“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs, his voice is soft but you can hear the slight shake in it. You drag your hands through his dark hair and he nearly purrs in pleasure.

“You’re prettier,” you respond, your stomach swirls with desire, the slick between your legs hitting the cool exposed air. He huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to the column of your shoulder, mumbling against your heated skin, “Not possible.”

His tip nudges your slick folds and you both moan at the contact, his leaking head catching as he lines up, pushing his hips forward to notch the tip of his cock into your warm pussy. Pulling his face from your neck, he connects your foreheads again, gently using one of his hands to lift your leg, hooking it over his broad shoulder.

“I got you,” he whispers comfortingly as you withe beneath him at the sensation of his thick cock starting to breach your sopping wet folds. Mark’s voice shakes with adrenaline, his jaw dropping with a small whine as he pushes through your gummy walls.

“You got me,” you respond, warmth blooming in your chest, the stretch of his cock in you making you dizzy with arousal. His movements remain slow, finally bottoming out with a breathy moan which causes your back to arch. His eyes almost appear fair away as they stare into yours, already drunk and consumed by the feel of you. The hand he stationed on your waist squeezes the fat of your hip, allowing you to adjust to him. The full feeling of the stretch of his cock buried deep within you, it makes your chest heave as you grip his bicep with your hand.

“You feel so good,” you breath out, gripping his bicep tightly and your eyes roll back as his hips twitch reflexively. Mark whimpers at your words, slowly grinding his hips against yours, his public bone rubbing against your clit. Your walls clench and he closes his eyes in pleasure, his dick twitching inside of you.

“So wet, is’ so good,” he moans, pressing you further into the mattress, slowly dragging his cock halfway out of you, sliding it back in with ease against your slick walls. You whimper, his head falls to rest on your shoulder, muffling his own sounds of pleasure. They vibrate through your body and he shoves his cock back into you, pumping his hips back and forth, increasing the speed gradually. Your mind feels like a lust filled haze, all you see, all you smell, all you hear, is him. Wet squelches and the slapping of skin mingle with desperate moans and whines, his hip bones hitting the back of your thighs forcefully as you contract your walls around him and his movements stutter.

“Mhm, I’m gonna cum, if you keep doing that,” he mumbles against your skin, his voice is raspy, sending a chill through your skin as the coil in your lower stomach nears its peak.

“That's the plan,” you tease breathlessly, a whimper tumbling from your throat as your other leg bends, your foot pressing against his shoulder. His hips move erratically now, the position makes him continuously hit your spongy walls in a way that has you arching your back as his ragged moans escape him. His cock twitches again, your pussy clenches, trying to pull his release from him. Mark looks up at you and you can tell he's close, completely pussy drunk, lost in the way his cock drags along your slick folds and you swallow him up perfectly.

“In, finish inside. Please,” you force out, the only words you can manage out, and he moans at your words, his dick drilling into you, his hips stuttering.

“I love you, so much,” he babbles out, his hips moving wildly, sucking the air from your lungs, “gonna fill you up yeah? Fill you with my cum.”

Mark whimpers at his own words, his lips crashing to yours, as you reach your peak, your walls milking him as you clench, moaning into his mouth. His release follows, a ring of white gathering at the base of his cock as he whimpers, his load hot and warm against your walls. His hips jerk a few more times, stuffing his cum deep into your pussy. You both breath heavily, clutching each other as you come down from your highs, both of you quivering.

“Did you mean that?” you ask breathlessly, “that you love me.” Mark stares down at you, his hair disheveled, his cock still buried in deep within you.

“Yes,” he says, his cheeks flushed, his hand that held your leg up letting it drop, “I have, for a long time.” He almost looks sheepish, which you find amusing because he just came in you. You giggle, mind still hyper aware.

“So have I, loved you for a while I mean,” you say as he tiredly gropes your breasts, a dopey look on his face.

“I’m definitely dreaming,” he mumbles, lowering his body to lay on top of you. You run your hands through his hair.

“Nope,” you muse. His head tilts to look up at you, his face still dazed with a lazy smile on his lips. He presses a sweet kiss to your jaw, murmuring softly about how gorgeous you are, how you’re incredible, how he loves you. Your heart soars, because this is real, you're here together, intertwined in bed, and nothing could be better. Your life has revolved around him, as his has revolved around you. You bask in each others presence as sleep finds you both, giggling together your eyes never leaving his brown ones, until you both drift away, off to meet again in your dreams.

#clart talk #my writing!!#invincible #invincible fanfic #invincible x reader #x reader #fem reader #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson x you #mark grayson #invincible smut #mark grayson smut

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no-144444 · 6 months ago

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don’t embarrass me- l.norris

summary: lando and you have a fight on NYE

pairing: lando norris x fem! reader

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You were angry. Every five seconds you had a friend asking if you and Lando had broken up, all because Maugi (one of Lando’s friends) was trying to make it look like she was with Lando. It was infuriating.

“You alright baby?” Lando whispered as he leant against you, the party already in full swing. You looked fabulous. Silver and gold for the new year. You looked like a million bucks. Yet you felt like a fraud. Every time you saw them together you felt yourself… shrink. Like you had to make room for their friendship. Whenever you’d try to talk to him about it, you were met with more questions than answers, and a lot of aggression.

You didn’t care anymore.

“I’m good,” you smiled. “You?”

“I’m great,” he smirked, pulling your waist into his. “You look fucking gorgeous,” he whispered, dotting kisses against your cheek.

You grinned. “Thanks baby.”

His grip tightened but over his shoulder you saw him. Oscar. Lando’s teammate. Lando’s friend. You had a plan, and you were going to make Lando pay for brushing you off.

“Wanna get out of here-?” Lando had started to speak, but he was cut off when you walked away, and straight into Oscar’s arms. He assumed after a little while, you’d come back. You didn’t. You and Oscar spent all of New Year’s Together, while Lando was stuck with Max and Pietra looking every part the perfect couple.

“Why are you sulking?” Max laughed, clapping Lando on the back.

“She’s gone off with Oscar,” he mumbled, looking up as he leant against the balcony railing.

“He is her best mate,” he pointed out. “Join the conversation, or at least hang off her like you usually do.”

He huffed. “She’s mad at me.”

“What did you do this time?” P asked.

“The whole Maugi thing kind of got to her, and when she’d ask me… I kind of brushed her off. She's been off for weeks.”

“So you fucked up?” Max sighed.

“I fucked up,” he nodded. “And now she’s ignoring me, and it’s 3 minutes to midnight.”

“She’ll let you be her New Year’s kiss, surely,” Max scoffed.

Lando nodded, deciding to go find you, but the uncertainty in his stomach had settled long ago.

He caught you from across the room, the absolute picture of beauty. Dancing haphazardly with Lily as Oscar held both your drinks, you danced, somehow looking somehow carefree and elegant at the same time. He smiled. The anxiety in his chest settled momentarily. You were still you. You were still his. You were just upset.

“It’s almost midnight,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, joining you in dancing as Lily excused herself to the bar. The red flashing lights and alcohol in both your systems made your dancing look a lot dirtier than it had intended to be, but alas, he just enjoyed feeling you close.

“Oh yeah?” You asked, turning around to him. “Finding Maugi anytime soon?”

He rolled his eyes. “You think I’d want her over you?”

“You don’t make it look any different,” you scoffed.

“Baby,” he smirked, practically laughing. “You’re the most perfect, incredible, kind, woman I have ever met. I love you. You’re my everything. I’ll admit when you came to me about it, I could’ve responded better, and I’m sorry. I was stressed about the way the media saw it, and I didn’t know how to respond to you. I’m sorry.”

You smirked. “That’s all I needed.”

He giggled, pulling you into him. How had he ever pulled you? He was such a loser when it came to you. He’d do anything.

“Do I get my midnight kiss?” He smiled, his cheeks blushing.

“You’re such a baby,” you chuckled as the timer counted down. You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Don’t ever embarrass me like you have, ever again.”

You pressed your lips to his and bit down on his bottom lip. You made him scared. Is it bad that made him hard?

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navigation for my blog :)

mclaren masterlist

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cherie-doll · 2 months ago

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LADS: They Take Care Of You After A Mission

༻ Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb ༺

₊˚✧ Xavier has medicine not for himself but for you in case you ever need it when you come back. He checks you over for injuries probably as soon as you pull away from a hug. Even if you try to wave him off saying you're not even hurt he still insists on checking for any injuries you could've missed. Silent while you're getting your rest, he will not make any noise at all to minimize the interruptions that could wake you up. He also gets jealous if you spend your following days off with other people, he'll use the excuse that you're supposed to be resting after potentially straining your body too much. Forget even sleeping in your own bed or apartment, he has you in his room instead. He insists on it since he can keep an eye on you, after all, hunters have to look out for one another right?

₊ ೀ Zayne won't admit it but people at his workplace; nurses and other doctors will notice how anxious he gets when you're not responding to his messages or calls. Everyone is worried thinking he's got some delicate surgery he's got to perform but no turns out he just hasn't heard back from some hunter he deeply cares about for some reason. When you finally do come back he'll be very upset if you don't come to see him right away. Not only because he is your doctor and he has to make sure you're alright but also just because. Like you two eat together nearly everyday why wouldn't you check in with him first? He might have to force his role as your doctor since you clearly aren't taking your health seriously. And as he tends to you, giving you a full checkup he's thinking about how grateful he is that you weren't hurt.

༄༢ུ࿓ Rafayel probably couldn't even focus on painting while you were gone. He made a few strokes with his brush and that was about it. The moment you came home felt like relief to him. He will not let go and will be extremely clingy which is rather unfortunate to your exhausted body. But he takes good care of you. He'll recharge your energy right away so you already feel better after a couple of days when normally you'd be knocked out for at least a week. And when you want to go away to rest in your own apartment and maybe not come out in like a week, he'll get very upset you're thinking about leaving his studio in the first place. Seriously?! You don't see each other for idk he can't count but you think one afternoon is enough for him to be satisfied from seeing you and let go? You're funny haha, please stay with him. please stay with him. please stay with him.

ᨳ᭬ Sylus doesn't see why you keep letting them overwork you when you could just switch to him; he would treat you better so much better. Whatever, he'll still let you rest before wanting to meet up because that usually leads to some very... interesting dates (flashbacks to all the times you've had to pull out a gun mid-date to take some enemies out). Also, he occupies himself when his favorite kitten is away. Despite your fatigue, you still open your phone to try and reach out to him, but if he's busy he'll send Luke and Kieran on errands to drop you stuff off, which he can and will go overboard with. Someone like you ought to get everything they need and his errand boys have to see that you're not left missing anything. Just because he's caught up in some business doesn't mean you have to be neglected. And you better be making sure you clear your schedule ahead of time because trust he will be making up his lack of time spent with you.

❦ Caleb knows exactly when you're home, matter of fact, he's right there waiting as soon as you unlock the door to receive you with open arms. He scares you because you don't remember giving him access to your apartment so how'd he get in? At the time you were more concerned about reaching your soft bed in time to crash. You don't even need to use your head to think anymore because he knows what you're thinking right now. You must be tired, right? So he already has your room cleaned and prepared, or he's also set up a place for you on the couch if that's what you prefer. If you're hungry he's willing to cook anything you want if he doesn't already have some five start meal warmed up on the stove ready to be served. You sure are lucky to have someone like him to automatically knows what you like, dislike and what you need in that exact moment. Surely, it's no coincidence how much he knows about you?

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader #sylus x reader #caleb x reader #lads xavier #lads zayne #lads rafayel #lads sylus #lads caleb #lads fanfic #lads fluff

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luvwestwood · 2 years ago

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"AFK" - Choso Kamo (with twt links)

"..like fortnite, i’ma need your skin.."

3,012 words.

warnings. nsfw(18+), bf/gamer! choso, oral sex (m rec.), humiliation, desk sex, exhibitionism, trying not to get caught, feral choso, p in v, throat fucking, oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, degradation, choso whimper links included lol,

notes. my previous drabble abt choso had a lil kick to it, definitely had to make it into a full one-shot! hope u guys enjoy, and thank u for 450 followers hehe, so I included twt links! ^^

credits to @/plutism for dividers, @/adrienwithane for banner.

russian translation by @juliabelll ❤️

Not too long ago, it was Choso's birthday. Being an amazing girlfriend you are, of course you built him a brand new PC. It cost you an arm and a leg, but that didn't matter at all when it came to Choso. Seeing him happy itched a part of your brain, especially when he was the one who would pay for everything: dates, your online shopping carts, you name it.

He never really bought anything for himself. You were getting tired of the countless times that he went on a tangent about how slow his previous machine was. It was doing your head in, so you saved up. For what you now call a 'not-blessing-in-disguise'.

Choso was obsessed with his new PC, and it wasn’t an exaggeration. Part of you was starting to regret it all. The man barely paid attention to you.

Am I the asshole for being mad that my boyfriend likes his gift a bit too much? No, I wouldn't think so. I should be delighted, but it's pretty much getting outrageous.

The fact that he has almost every single game out there on that PC in just a span of one week since he got it - means there's more for him to do. Every day, he'd wake up, do a bit of house stuff then sit his ass down to play with his friends. For as long as he can. Never leaving that room. Hell, he wouldn't even bother answering your messages until an hour later. 'Mb, was on the game' is something that was engraved in your brain by now.

Every time you'd come over, he'd ignore you simply by just gluing his eyes on the screen. If you try to nap, just go home. You've lost track of how many times he's managed to wake you up with his blood-curdling screams. There were times when Choso didn't even notice you leaving, which upset you quite a bit.

Of course, you had moments when you needed him the most. Like, badly. Freshly shaved, he's not even mentally there to take a peek. You could be naked and oiled up in his bed, Choso wouldn't even bat an eye.

…Advice to self, don't get him a PS5 this Christmas.

"Choso," You called out, sat on the edge of the bed behind him. No answer. Per usual, you wanted to rip that headset off his head.

Dark circles were forming around his eyes, endless cans of monster were scattered all over his desk. "Nah let's just fight Oscar, we've got a minute until the circle closes."

Rolling your eyes, a scoff escapes your mouth. Aaand he didn't hear you. Crossing your arms, you furrow your brows. He was honestly testing your patience. "Choso?!"

Choso flinches a bit, pulling one side of his headset away from his ear. His gaming chair spins around to face you. "Baby?"

He knew you were mad. You looked more than pissed. It was really because this recurring behavior of his was getting too much. "Your eyes are always on that screen! Did you even know that I was here!?”

“I-I’m sorry. Look, I'll get off after this game!” From his headset you could hear Choso’s friends teasing and picking on him. They probably heard you scolding your poor boyfriend. You couldn’t care less.

As soon as you were about to speak, he immediately spun his chair back around to face that stupid monitor again. He was too engrossed in the game. It was his squad of four against the only opposing team.

Groaning, you flop back onto his mattress. "..You always say that, and you never do." Muttering under your breath, you stare at the ceiling blankly. What felt like a hammer to your head, Choso's war cries could only get louder each second.

The past few days, you had no choice but to use your own fingers to toy with yourself. You were needy, and you missed your boyfriend's touch. Too bad he was too occupied. How come his keyboard and mouse get to be touched by him more than your....

Using all of your strength, you sat yourself up again on the edge of his mattress. Realizing there's no use in scolding him, you quietly walked up behind Choso, combing your fingers through his hair. You loved when it was down, and he loved it when you played with his hair. He found it relaxing. You could tell by the way his body was no longer tensed up, the back of his head falling heavy onto your hand.

Your hands left his hair, travelling down to his nape. With your freshly manicured nails (which he paid for), you gently scratched his skin on his neck. You could see goosebumps forming, but said nothing about it. Choso who was ticklish, tilted his head to the side - "Mmm," He hummed, telling you off as you were starting to distract him.

Letting out a laboured sigh, you stared at the back of his head. Wondering what to do with him, you pouted. Maybe I should just leave like every other day? No, I can't back down.

He seems really busy. Would he even notice if I crawled under his desk? Grinning, you got on your knees, crawling like a kitty underneath his desk but making minimal noise. You glanced behind your shoulder to see his reaction, but his eyes were still gawking at the flashing screen in front of him.

Coming face to face with his sweats, you kneeled, just in level with his lap. Peeking your head out from the shadows under his desk, Choso had only noticed you then. His eyes widened, the sight of you looking up at him like a puppy had started to cloud up his thoughts.

Grabbing onto his wrist, he slowly let go of his mouse. Bringing his hand to your cheek, he took it in the palm of his hand, eventually giving in and using his thumb to softly caress your lips. "..I missed you, Choso.." You whispered, softly sucking on his thumb. "..I need you,"

His breath hitched, your words were doing something to him. What a fool he was for ignoring you all this time? Just then, a cacophony of voices screaming through his headset broke him out of his trance. Choso's warm hand left your face, causing you to frown. Your fun was cut short. Way too short.

You had enough, deciding it was time you finally got what you wanted. Snaking your two hands up the soft cotton of his sweats, they stopped right at his crotch. His eyes anxiously shot down to you underneath him, telling you off and pointing to his headset.

Placing a finger onto your lips, you told him to just be quiet. His eyes frantically flickered from you, then to his monitor. Slowly, you slid down his pants. Smiling at the way he rose himself up from his seat slightly, so it would be easier to take them off. Of course, he wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Taking his long, thick cock into your hands, you jerked it ever so slightly. Choso cleared his throat, keeping his mouth shut all of a sudden in case he accidentally makes unwanted noise. He was practically melting under your touch, into the chair. Gliding your tongue over his pink tip, he didn't dare look at you. Not long after, your warm mouth wrapped over him, Choso letting out a sigh of relief at the feeling.

You knew how to push his buttons, bringing yourself to fully deepthroat his cock for a few seconds. His lips purse shut, Choso slightly biting down onto his bottom lip. His fingers started to press on the wrong keys, unable to focus on the game.

Pulling away, a string of saliva connected your tongue and his aching tip. You brought your lips back onto his cock, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks as you used your two hands to jerk him off at the same time.

The man above was folding at the pornographic sight underneath him. Hearing Choso moan by accident, he quickly covered it up with a cough. “…Yeah, no, I’m good- Just don’t- feel well..”Friends concerned, Choso had come up with a convincing lie in just seconds. His hand reached down to rake through your hair until his fist was full of it. [link]

He lightly pushed your head up and down his length, your mouth making sloppy noises all over, buckets of spit dripping down your chin and his balls.

Ripping his headset off, Choso didn't care about the game anymore. Or his friends. He groaned as you fondled with his balls, giving them a suck afterwards. His light grey pants were turning a darker shade than before. His two hands clawed into your hair on both sides of your face, Choso started to fuck his cock into the back your throat.

Moaning, his eyes shut tightly as his head fell back onto the cushion of his chair. His balls tightening as he heard how you constantly gagged over his thick cock. "Fuck.. Just like that.."

His moans were a mixture of curses and long groans, tears started to well up in your eyes. Choso opened his eyes again, looking down at you as he drew your mouth away from his cock. He smiled, seeing your makeup all ruined, your face covered with spit and so did his lap.

Rolling his chair away from the desk, he grabbed you from underneath. Only to pull it back again, placing it in front of his PC. Guiding his hand on your back, he bent you over on the chair, making your two legs kneel on the soft cushion so you wouldn't tire out. [link]

Holding tightly onto your hair, your head fell back towards him. Choso had ripped the fabric of your leggings that was unfortunately covering your cunt. Grabbing his cock, he lined himself up with your hole, his hands shaking from how eager he was.

Easily sliding in from the slick that covered your hole, you grabbed onto the arm rest in front of you; Choso stretching you out completely. Wasting no time, he began to move his hips back and forth, fucking his hard cock into you.

His monitor started to gently shake from how hard his cock was bullying into you, skin slapping as his balls that were full of weeks load cum made contact with your clit.

"C-Choso.." You cried out, your hand reaching back to his pelvis. Staring at yourself getting fucked like a slut through the reflection of his PC monitor, your ass rippled with each and every one of his thrusts.

Maintaining his brutal pace, his fingers were no longer woven into your hair, reaching out to the headset on his desk. Confused, you kept your eyes open to watch Choso place them over your head. "W-What..?"

His hands gripped onto the flesh of your hips, Choso leaned into your ear. "Keep moaning you slut, let them hear you." All of a sudden he groaned, feeling you clench around him at what he just said. "You like that, don't you?"

Spinning you slightly to one side, his leg went up onto the chair with you, allowing him more leverage to fuck you deeper. "Eyes up at that camera too, show them how pretty you look taking my cock," Tears started to stream down the sides of your cheeks, your face had flushed red.

Choso's hands took a hold of your hair again, his tip kissing your cervix repeatedly. "I.." Speechless, you lost your ability to form a basic sentence. His fat cock left you braindead, at this point you were seeing nothing but stars.

"..Use your words baby," A creamy white ring started to form at his base as his cock pistoned in and out of you. Choso's hand kept stamping down on your back from time to time to make sure you kept that arch. "..Isn't this what you've been wanting all week?"

"Y-you're so deep.. I can't.." Your hand reached back to his abs, twisting the white fabric of his tank top until it was all wrinkly. He took a hold of your wrist, twisting your arm behind you. Choso slightly bent over, his warm body resting against your back.

He quietly groaned into your ear, chanting your name like a prayer. You were fucked out of your mind. "You feel so good.. like this pussy was made for me." The pace of his thrusts slowed down, but his hips still rut into you hard each time. His strokes hard and deep, you swear could feel him all up in your guts. Your jaw had dropped, your head falling back onto his shoulder.

Choso's hands reached under your loose shirt, letting your tits spill out of your bra. Gently twisting your nipple between his finger tips, fondling with your whole breast afterwards, he forgot how much he loved wrapping his mouth around those.

"Your cock.. It feels so good.." You babbled, Choso sneaking his fingers underneath to rub lazy circles on your clit. Your legs began to tremble, fortunately your throat managed to choke out a whine.

Also seeing him in the reflection of his monitor, strands of his hair started to stick to his face. Multiple beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. Choso didn't want to leave your pussy. Not even Thor could pull him out. He enjoyed using you like a cock whore.

You felt so dizzy, mind full of his cock. Choso let out multiple whimpers as he felt his orgasm nearing, his index finger hooking onto the side of your mouth. The very last few seconds, his cock bottomed into you, trying to chase your orgasm. The desk hitting against he wall non-stop, his headset that was on you started to fall off your head.

Leaving a trail of wet kisses down your back, his hand grabbed onto the plush flesh of your ass, continuously giving it a spank every now and then.

The wet, slapping noises of your skin continued to follow, until you felt his thrusts come to a sudden halt. His hot cum shooting inside of you rope after rope, just before he pulled out to let the rest out onto your ass. "..Fuck.. look at that."

Using his thumb to spread your hole wide open, his load spilt onto the black leather of his gaming chair. You panted, tired and hole throbbing. You got what you wanted, that’s for sure. Forcing his headset off you, you couldn't do anything but lean against his desk, trying to regulate your breathing pattern back to normal.

"..We're not done here," Choso laughed behind you, your cunt still dripping of his thick load. His hands roughly turned your body around, placing you on top the desk to face him. Using his foot to push the chair away, he lined his cock with your hole again, using his cum that was already inside of you as lube.

"Oh m-my- Choso!" You yelped, one hand taking grip onto his shoulder for support, the other holding knocking his keyboard out of the way, trying to find something to hold onto other than his shoulder.

His forehead rested against yours, the staggering movement of his hips causing the desk itself to shake under the two of you. Choso watched as his cock disappeared in and out of your hole, grunts coming out through his clench teeth as he wrapped his large hands around your thighs. He wanted more, and wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"..Good girl," He gritted through his teeth, "..I love t-this pussy, and you." Choso's hands pressed flat against the desk, his lips locking onto yours. His cock was coated in a mixture of his and your own cum, your sweaty bodies intimately hugging against each other.

Choso wanted to feel all you, he just craved more and more each minute. His hands shakily held onto the sides of your waist, his lips moving to your jaw to plant more kisses.

"You're so beautiful, look at me baby." Choso lightly tapped the side of your face, telling you to maintain eye contact.

Obeying, you kept your eyes open; looking into his but not a thought behind your own eyes. You only continued to whine under his touch, overstimulated from how much he's used you like a cock whore. You were so close to losing your mind, drunk off his cock.

Choso too, was lost in your pussy. God, was he whipped— If only he could stay inside you forever, he definitely would. This whole time he was busy cursing at himself, how much of an idiot he is to not appreciate what he has - you. Your cheeks were stained with your hot tears, Choso hushing you and wiping them away every now and then.

“S-Shit, I’m gonna cum again.” He pants, feeling his balls tighten for the second time, the tightness of your pussy heightening his stimulation.

Your hands cupped both of his cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss. His thrusts turning sloppy, you cooed. “..Cum for me, I want it all inside..”

This caused the coil inside of Choso to snap, him desperately whimpering into your ear as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. “F-fu-ck..” Tightly holding onto the flesh of your hips, he made sure his second load stayed inside of you.

Sliding his cock out, Choso rested his heavy cock just above your pussy. Making sure he planted a peck on your forehead, trying to catch his breath. The two of you laugh, your bodies aching and sweaty, his entire desk and chair a mess.

Reaching for something, you blinked as Choso grabbed his headset that ended up on the other side of the desk. Placing one side against his ear, he spoke into the mic. "..GG."

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me 🎀🩷

[luvwestwood masterlist]

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #choso smut #choso kamo #choso x reader #jjk choso #choso x you #jjk drabbles #jjk smut

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theliving-radio · 5 months ago

Text

The Meaning of “Big Brother”

Part: 1

Warnings: none, just fluff and sillies. Gender Neutral Reader. Platonic relationship. Malleus is now your big brother.

———————————————————————

Malleus is an only child. Until he dubbed you as his Baby Sibling, making him a Big Brother.

But what is a “Big Brother”? That’s been on his mind lately. What does it mean to be a “Big Brother”?

Malleus wishes to ask Lilia on the matter, but goes against it as it felt like the old fae would tease him. Silver is also an only child, and Sebek is the youngest of his siblings. So he couldn’t ask them either.

And so, Malleus sets off to ask some of the students that are Older Brothers too.

“What it’s like to be the older brother in the family?” Trey was surprised when the First Years came running to him, saying that Malleus Draconia wanted to see him. Trey was in the middle of making pie crust for a new recipe he wanted to try out when both Ace and Deuce showed up with Malleus in tow. But the question was more of a shocker than seeing Malleus Draconia in the Heartstabyul kitchen

“Yes. I’ve heard from Trappola and Spade that you are an Older Brother to many younger siblings. And that even students have claimed you as “The Older brother of Heartstabyul.”

Trey glances over at Ace and Deuce who were a bit embarrassed by it, but Trey only lets out an amused chuckle.

“Yeah, I have a few younger brothers and a little sister. We all live together with our parents who run a Bakery.”

“Interesting… and what are your ‘duties’ as an older brother?” Malleus questioned as he watched the Vice dorm leader go back to mixing.

“‘Duties’, huh? That’s one way of putting it. But I just do my best to make sure they don’t cause any trouble and aren’t fighting each other. One time, one of my brothers was teasing our sister to the point of crying… then proceeded to punch him. When I found them, they were both tussling in the middle of the Bakery. I had to scold them both.”

“Fascinating…”

After the mixing, Trey takes the dough out of bowl and places it on the kitchen counter where it can be kneaded. He looks over at Malleus who was writing down in a small notepad.

Did he have that the whole time?

“So when it comes to your younger siblings, you have to protect them from each other. Along with correcting their behavior towards one another.

“I mean, I guess? Yeah. Most of the time that responsibility would fall under our parents. But since I was the one to see it happen, I had to set things straight.”

“I see… Have they ever done anything to make you upset?”

Trey was in the middle of kneading the dough, but pulls away from it and places his hand on his chin, trying to think of something. Meanwhile Ace was trying to sneak towards the fridge to see if there were any tarts in there, Deuce wasn’t trying to signal him to not do it.

Without looking away from the dough, Trey picked up small metal spoon and threw it in the direction Ace was at. Causing him to yelp and curse under his breath at getting hit in the head with said spoon, and for getting caught.

Malleus was intrigued by the small exchange.

“There was a time where one of my brothers wanted to go to a Spelldrive game. He really wanted to go. I couldn’t say no to him, and so I got my entire allowance to buy a ticket for him. All the money I saved up for myself, just gone. Of course I was upset about it… but when he came home from the game he had the biggest smile on his face, and went straight to me to tell me everything that happened during the game. And I knew from that moment, I didn’t regret giving him all my money. And I would do it all over again, given the chance.” Trey smiled at the memory, Malleus took noticed and smiles as well.

“Maaan~ what a lucky kid. Wish you were my older brother, Trey-senpai!” Ace interrupted the heartfelt moment.

“Don’t you already have an older brother, Trappola?”

“Yeah, but he’s a dick!” Ace loudly declares as he crosses his arms. “To prove my point, one time while I was laying in bed, he walked into my room without saying anything, approached me, turned around and farted in my a face! He ran out laughing and I had to chase him to give him a what for!”

Malleus looked at Ace in pure horror. His older brother did that?! Is that normal???

He does not wish to lay his flatulence upon you!

Not his Baby Sibling!

“Ah yeah. I’m an only child. But I’ve heard siblings doing that to each other.” Deuce mention, which causes Malleus to turn to him in shock.

“So that is normal behavior among siblings?”

“Well…. Not really, every family is different, and every sibling bond can be different too. Some love each other, and there are some who hate each other.” Trey answered the Dragon Fae’s question as he set up placing the dough in the pan.

Malleus thought about Trey’s words. He does love you very much, he is your Big Brother after all! But even relationships and bonds can change over time. And he hopes his Baby Sibling does not turn to hate him one day.

“I see… Well I must thank you for this insightful information, Clover. I will have to leave now to get more information.”

“If you have any more question, just try to find me.”

Malleus nods as he makes his way out of the Heartstabyul’s dorm kitchen. As he leaves, he hears the sound of a smack and Ace yelling ‘What did I do?!’ While Trey’s response being ‘Do you want to be collared?’

“You came all the way here… to ask me how I treat my younger siblings?”

“Yes. That is exactly why I’m here.”

Out of all the places, Jack never once thought that Malleus’s Draconia would come over to Savanaclaw dorm… to ask about family…

“… why?”

“Recently I have become an Older Brother, and I am asking for advice from others who are one as well.”

“Ah.” Jack… was still not expecting that answer.

It’s no secret from the school that Malleus Draconia, future king of Briar Valley, one of the top powerful mages in all of Twisted Wonderland…

Has dubbed you as his “Baby Sibling” and has taken the role “Big Brother” seriously.

How did this arrangement came to be? Nobody knows.

Jacks ear twitches as he crosses his arms. Before Malleus came by, Jack was actually going to be headed to the botanical gardens to help Ruggie find Leona. Unfortunately the dragon fae stopped him before he was able to walk out of the dorms lounge room.

“I heard from Schoenheit that you have a younger brother and sister,” Malleus took notice that Jack’s tail swayed a bit when Vil was brought up.

“… you heard correctly. Both are in elementary school.”

Jack isn’t gonna lie.

This is kinda awkward, and weird.

“Jack, you’re still here? I thought you were gonna help me-“ Ruggie entered the lounge and stopped in his tracks as he saw Malleus. The Hyena Beastmen looks over at Jack, his eyes saying ‘Help me’. Ruggie doesn’t know what he walked in on.

“Good Afternoon,Bucchi. Sorry to come here unannounced, but I just wanted to ask Howl on his relation to his younger siblings are like.” Malleus answered earnestly.

Ruggie blinks once. Then twice.

What?

“What? Why?”

“Since I am a Big Brother now, I wish to know the responsibilities of taking care of a younger siblings. So I am asking other students advice and experiences they’ve had,” Malleus looked pleased with himself at his own reasoning. Ruggie on the other hand, was confused by the Fae’s reasoning. Really?

“And you’re asking Jack because…?”

“He too, is also a Big Brother.”

Ruggie turns to Jack who just gave him a curt nod. “Ok, but like can’t you just look it up?”

“Ah, I’m not really good with technology…”

Is this guy for real?!

“… both of my siblings are very energetic. They can play hide and seek for six hours straight without getting tired.” Jack goes back to the topic at hand.

“Six hours?!”

“Oh my, how do you get them to calm down?” Malleus asked as he gets out his notepad and pen. Ruggie and Jack just blink at him as the Dragon Fae waited patiently for an answer.

Jack coughs in his fist to clear his throat, “Well, mom sometimes has issues when it’s time for bed. Lately though, she has been sneaking in sleeping medication into their drinks. Just small doses to help them calm down when it’s time to sleep.” The Wolf Beastmen explained as he recounts the events.

Malleus writes down in the notepad, wanting to get it all down. Ruggie leans over and tries to get a small glimpse of what the Fae wrote down, curious on what he has so far.

“So, you and your mom would go to extreme measures to make sure your siblings would have a healthy life style?”

“I wouldn’t say extreme… just, some actions we have to take.”

“Understood…” Malleus shuts his notepad, making Ruggie tense up from the force of it.

“Well, thank you very much Jack Howl for answering my questions. I am going to take my leave now, the sun is still out, and I still have many questions and learning to do. It was nice to see you too Bucchi.” Malleus bows to both Beastmen and begins to make his way to the Mirror Chamber.

“…dude, what just happened?”

“I dont know… giving out family advice?” Jack scratched the back oh his neck, perplexed by the exchange.

Malleus flipped through his notes as he walks out the Savanclaw dorm. He still had a lot of questions that need to be answered. He wanted to be prepared.

Malleus wanted to be the best Big Brother you’ve ever had, after all!

—————————————————————————————

I legit just wanted to write like a small prompt, but then brain kept going “MORE!!!”

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed part 1! I’ll be preparing for part 2 hopefully soon! So enjoy my idea of Big Brother Malleus!

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst malleus #platonic relationships #twst x reader #x reader #Big Brother Malleus #ace trappola #deuce spade #trey clover #jack howl #ruggie bucchi

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444eggnog · 1 month ago

Text

Quiet Doesn't Mean I Don't Care

✍︎: wrote this short au while stuck in traffic on the way to uni, blame the gridlock and mad by ne-yo for the inspiration. hope you enjoy the mess and the softness that follows! ♡

masterlist ! ☻

content: fighting (slight angst), hurt, soft, and comfort

pairing: soft bf Oscar x overstimulated gf

wc: 492

It wasn’t the sauce.

It was everything before that; the constant static in her head, the quiet ticking of time running out before the next season, the way Oscar always seemed fine even when she wasn’t.

He handed her the takeout bag with a soft smile, like always.

“They didn’t have garlic aioli. I got spicy mayo instead, hope that’s okay.”

It wasn’t. Not today.

She turned to face him, blinking hard. “You always do that.”

He paused, caught off guard. “Do what?”

“Act like it’s fine. Like none of this matters.”

Oscar set the bag down gently. “It’s just a sauce, love. I can run back and get the right one if it really bothers you.”

“That’s the problem, Oscar!” Her voice broke, loud in the quiet kitchen. “You never get upset. You never fight for anything. You just… go get the right sauce. You say sorry and move on. Do you even care?”

He stood still, expression unreadable, still so maddeningly calm.

“Of course I care.”

“Then why don’t you ever show it?” Her chest rose and fell, her eyes teary now. “Why don’t you ever get mad?”

Oscar didn’t speak at first. Just stared at the floor like the words were there, hiding between the grout.

Then, softly, “I don’t like yelling. I don’t like raising my voice. I thought that was a good thing.”

“It is,” she whispered, defeated. “But sometimes I feel like I’m the only one in this.”

She turned away.

“Maybe you should leave for a bit.”

Oscar didn't move.

“Oscar.”

Still, nothing.

When she finally looked back, his eyes were red, lashes wet.

And her stomach dropped.

Because Oscar never cried.

He rubbed at his jaw, looking anywhere but her. “You think I don’t care because I don’t yell?” he said, voice cracking. “You think I don’t love you because I don’t break things or storm out?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what you meant.”

She stepped closer, but he shook his head gently.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted. “Before you, I didn’t have… experience. Not with this. I’m not good at showing things the way you need me to. But I try.”

His voice dropped to a whisper.

“I get the wrong sauce. I mess up. But I try. And I will do better.”

He looked up at her finally.

“Just don’t push me away. Please.”

Silence stretched, thick with hurt and love.

She reached for his hand, not to pull him closer, but to keep him there, anchored.

“I don’t need perfect,” she said quietly. “I just need to know you’re here.”

He nodded, eyes never leaving hers.

“I’m here. Even when I don’t know what to say. Even when I get it wrong. I’m still here.”

And for the first time in days, she believed it.

They didn’t fix everything that afternoon.

But they didn’t go to bed angry.

And that was enough for now.

#oscar piastri #op81 #oscar piastri x oc #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri angst #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri blurb #Spotify #444eggnog

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valleydolli · 5 days ago

Text

Only You | Chapter Eight

CW: 𝜗𝜚 Stalking, Obsessiveness, Controlling Behaviour, Love Bombing, Afab, Murder, Fluff, Kidnapping, God Complex, Smut, Toxic Sukuna, Yandere Sukuna? Readers a Sweetie pie (Touch her you die… like actually…) Stockholm Syndrome, Manipulation, Pathetic Sukuna

𝜗𝜚 Series Masterlist

𝜗𝜚 Chapter Seven | Chapter Nine

𝜗𝜚 WC: 2.4k

Two months.

You’ve lived here for two months, and not a day goes by without you staring at the door at the end of the hallway. He won't let you in, period.

Even when you’re doing a deep clean around the house, there’s not a chance you’ll see the door agar.

“I’ll do it.”

“Leave that room.”

But you don’t want to.

You’re nosy.

You want to go in there.

But you can’t.

Why?

He’s even gone as far as putting a lock on it.

“You don’t trust me do you?”

"Hmm?"

"The room..."

Your chin is on his chest, while you watch his eyes. His brows pinch together, as he watches yours.

“Is that a problem?” He deadpans. “Is this not my house? Or is it you who pays the bills?”

And then the argument starts. You ask a simple question, he gets mad, you make 'love', he apologises and says, “He won’t do it again,” and you believe him.

Of course, you believe him; he’s the love of your life. You’d do anything for him.

You have done everything for him. You even left the job you loved so dearly for him.

“I don’t think you should work anymore, angel.”

Your words are caught in your throat. “What? Why not?” you stutter out.

He gives you a sympathetic look, pulling you in for a hug. “Why do you need to work when I make enough money for the two of us and more? And shouldn’t you be focused on your coursework?”

“I mean, yes, but I like my job, I love being around the kids, they're like my own.”

He rolls his eyes.

“You can still see Yuji and–.”

“It’s not just Yuji, Sukuna.”

“Don’t cut me off, I wasn’t finished.”

You look away from him, murmuring a sorry. He grabs hold of your face, making you look at him. “What was that?”

“I said I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“I won’t force you to quit, angel. I’m just making a suggestion. You know I want what’s best for you. Always.” His thumb brushes against your cheek, comforting your pouting face.

“No— you’re right. I should focus on uni. I’ve been so busy and distracted. You’re right, Sukuna.”

Best believe your coworkers and students were upset you were leaving. But, you see them every now and then when you pick up Yuji with Sukuna… briefly, Sukuna always wants to rush you back home, cutting your catch up time short.

Today for the first time in history, Sukuna let you go grocery shopping alone; only because he was called in to work and you had nothing at home to cook. So he gave you his card, and dropped you off at the supermarket.

“I’ll come back and get you, just call me. Don’t wander off anywhere else but here. Am I clear?” You go to roll your eyes, but quickly stop yourself.

“I’m 22, Sukuna, not 12.” you say, fiddling with your fingers nervously.

“I know. Is it bad for me to want you to be safe?” He cups your face with his hand, kissing the top of your head.

“Of course not. I appreciate you, you know that.”

“Then make me feel like you do.” He mumbles. ‘tears’ threatening to fall down his perfect face. “You make me feel like a villain, when I’m only trying to do what’s best for you. Only I know what’s best for you.”

Your feet lift off the ground, as you go to kiss your sulking boyfriend on the lips. He picks you up, claiming you passionately in the store car park. “Kids these days,” an older woman says walking past with a scowl plastered across her face.

“In and out, got it?”

“Got it.”

He guides you into the store, reminding you again, to be in and out of the shop. You reassure him that, yes you will be in and out as soon as he gets back to you.

You’re pushing your trolley around listening to music as you pick up all the things you want to eat at home. You crouch down to pick up some fruits, when a large hand finds its way onto you.

“What the hell—.”

You look up, finding– Satoru?

...

Satoru.

“How’ve you been?”

blink

“Cat got your tongue?”

Your body shoots up, slowly removing his hand from your head. “Hi, Satoru. Its been a while, huh?” Your lips fight a smile, you’ve missed him, but you don't want him to know that. It’ll boost his already inflated ego.

“3 months?”

“3 months…”

“I heard you quit your job, how come? You found somewhere else?”

“No, I just thought it would be better if I focused on my uni work for my last year. I still see them all a lot when I pick up Sukuna’s nephew.” You smile thinking about the days you collect Yuji from school, thinking about the future awaiting you and your boyfriend. You wonder if you’ll still be in this city to send them to the preschool you previously worked at. You wonder what clubs they’ll join, what their favourite food will be. You miss your future kids, but you’re not ready for them.

Not yet.

“I’m shocked you’re alone. Where’s your bodyguard?” He teases, nudging you softly.

“He’s at work, but he’s gonna come back and get me when I’m done. I’ve got about 30 minutes!” You say, checking the time on your phone.

“He gave you a time limit?” He questions, furrowing his brows.

“Oh, I mean, yes, but only because he has to go back to work and he doesn’t want me to get the bus.”

“I can take you back. I’m not busy.”

Your mouth opens to speak, but like Satoru said a couple minutes ago, a cat got your tongue. You want to say yes, but you know your boyfriend and you know for a fact he would not be happy with one, Satoru taking you home and finding out where you now reside and two, you and Satoru being alone in his car together.

“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

Satoru tuts, rolling his eyes at your comment. “Are you allowed to be around anyone? Or just him and his family?”

You try to defend yourself and Sukuna, but he cuts you off telling you not to tell him.

“I’m not done shopping if you wanna walk around and talk; catch up on things?”

“Lead the way.”

–

32 times

30 fucking 2 times he’s called you.

He’s been waiting for you outside the store that you’re still inside. You haven’t left since he dropped you off.

Sukuna’s finger impatiently tapped at his steering wheel, while he stared at the automatic doors opening and closing again. You, still not being one of the people walking out of the Goddamn door.

Another 5 minutes go by, and another 17 calls have been missed. He gave you a chance.

Multiple.

He throws off his seatbelt, so hard the buckle leaves a crack on the window.

He’s pissed.

If the doors weren’t automatic, he would have slammed them open, shattering them. He stomps down every aisle, searching every corner, looking for you.

“Where the fuck are you?” He whispers to himself.

The sound of his feet stomping against the ground could be heard from aisles away.

One quick turn and there you were.

There you were, standing with the white haired bastard he told you to keep away from.

Sukuna stops, he doesn’t make his way to you, no, not yet. He waits, watching the two of you converse. Laughing, nudging each other like some… couple.

Not on his watch.

A strong grip greets your arm, making you snap your neck to scream at the culprit. The culprit being your livid boyfriend, Sukuna. Your heart races rapidly. He waits for you to speak, but you can’t. You feel guilty, but you shouldn’t, you’ve done nothing wrong. Yes, he asked you to keep away from him, but what’s the harm in catching up with a long time friend.

“What did I tell you?“ He mutters darkly.

“I— you—, I can’t.” Your eyes begin to water, just like every other time he’s mad at you. You can’t help it whatsoever.

He scares you.

Truly.

“And what did I tell you, huh?” He asks Satoru.

And even he has nothing to say.

You’re suddenly being dragged across the store, leaving your shopping and Satoru behind. The whole store watching you being taken away by a big, burly man.

Tears are streaming down your face as you hyperventilate slightly. He scares you and you’re not afraid to admit that to yourself, but you know he’ll never hurt you… right? He wouldn't. He loves you.

“Th-The shopping, S-Sukuna.”

Nothing.

“Please, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Kuna” You choke out.

A crybaby.

So sensitive when it comes to him. You always will be.

He pushes you into the car, slamming it so hard the car shakes, making you jump. He takes a minute before getting in, trying to calm himself down. Rubbing his hands up and down his face. He’s going to kill him.

He’s going to kill Satoru.

He’s a burden.

A habit.

You always seem to find your way to him.

No.

Not anymore.

You’re never seeing that bastard again.

Once he’s sat in the car with you, you wait for him to speak, but he just stares at you. Scanning your doe eyes and runny mascara.

His silence makes the tears fall down your face faster.

“Please say something, please.” You choke out.

A deep breath escapes Sukuna’s lungs, before he also has tears streaming down his face. “Why’re you doing this to me? I asked you if I was enough for you and you said yes you said I was. What am I doing wrong?” His sobs make yours become more apparent.

“I’m not good enough for you, am I? That’s why you somehow find your way back to him all the time. You deserve better than me—.”

“No, that’s not true, it’s not.” You grab his hands, placing kisses all over them.

“He fucked you better didn’t he? That’s what you want, right? You make me feel worthless. Go to him! Leave!” He spits.

Your head shakes back and forth. “No! It’s just you. Sukuna, it’ll always be you. This is all my fault. It’s always my fault.. I jus–”

He shakes his head, not looking in your direction.

“You can leave me for him, I know that’s what you want.”

“It’s not! It’s not. Don’t say that.” You shuffle in your seat, moving your body onto his, cupping his face in your hands. “If I ever see him again I’ll walk away, I’ll even call you, I’ll even scream at the top of my lungs.”

His empty eyes stare at your sad ones. “I don’t believe you.”

“Please believe me, please.” You plant kisses all over him, kissing away his ‘tears’

“I love you… I want to be with you forever, Kuna.”

“I just wanna be the only one for you.”

“You are. You always will be.”

He’s quick to pull you onto his lap, grinding your crotch into his.

“I would marry you tomorrow if I could give you your dream wedding like that,” he admits, snapping his fingers. “I’d give you my kids too, but clearly you don’t want that.”

“I do, you know I do. I just— at least let me finish university. Only a couple of months left and we can do whatever you want— whatever we want.”

His head rubs against your body, imitating a cat finding comfort in their carer. He’s vulnerable. He wants you to care for him, as much as he wants to care for you.

“If I ever see him again, I’ll run away.” You giggle at him. He tries not to smile, but loses the battle, cheeks forming into apples.

“I hate it when you’re mad at me. You make me so happy, I want to do the same for you.”

“You can do the same for me. You just need to listen to me, alright?”

You nod your head, whispering a tiny yes on top of his lips. “I can show you how sorry I am when we get home…” Your hands glide down your boyfriend's body, making its way towards the waist band of his trousers.

He leans into your ears, biting it slightly before whispering, “Or you can show me in here?”

—

As soon as you fell asleep Sukuna bolted to his ‘man cave’ spending the whole night researching Satoru. Finding any and every detail about him.

He’s a Gojo.

Born 7th December 1989.

Only child of Kenjiro Gojo and Hina Gojo.

Rich kid, of course.

Spoilt to the bone.

No wonder he can’t fathom not having you. Everything in his life has been handed to him on a silver platter— well, he sounds hypocritical because he also had and still has things handed to him with no questions asked. Like you for example. He wanted you and got you like that! Call him whatever you want, but he will always get his way, especially when it comes to his sweet angel. Although, you’ve been hard headed when it comes to… him…

God, he hates that guys fucking guts.

His stupid blue eyes.

His stupid white hair.

He looks stupid.

And the fact that you even let him inside of you?

Near you?

Despicable.

Poor from you.

He wishes he could study your brain and understand why the fuck you do the things you do.

Where is his perfect girl?

Why aren’t you acting perfect?

Why–

Knock, Knock

The sound of your knuckles hit the door. ”Sukuna?” He quickly shuts off his computer, making his way out the door. He doesn’t fully open it; he carefully slides through the gap so you don’t see a thing.

You’re leaning against the wall, eyes puffy from your slumber. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I’m lonely when you’re not in bed with me,” you mumble into his chest.

His lips twitch into a small smirk. “I love when you’re needy.”

“You say I’m needy all the time.”

He chuckles, “well you’re extra needy now.”

You’re carried princess style, back to your shared room, waiting for your boyfriend to get into bed with you, but he doesn’t. Not just yet. He sits on the edge of the bed caressing you gently.

“You really hurt me today.”

Not a word. You wait before you speak up.

“I promise you. If I see him near you, text you, call you, anything. I’ll kill him.”

Your heart drops.

“You- you’re not serious.” You laugh, sitting up, stroking the sides of his arms. “You don’t mean that. You wouldn’t kill anyone.”

“Oh, but I would. I really would, angel. Especially, when someone’s messing with what’s mine.”

Your skin runs cold.

“What did I tell you when we first had sex? Repeat it.”

“I own you now.”

He snaps his fingers. You jump at the sudden action. “Exactly! Don’t forget that, alright?”

“Alright.”

He hums happily.

“Exactly what I wanna hear from you.”

Authors Note: Okay, okay, I'm here I did it eheheeh. I'm sorry :( not only did I have the biggest writers block, I've been super duper busy :( so I'm soooo sorry. I'll try my best to do a sooner update for chapter nine, but I can't guarantee, though I will try my best! I hope you enjoy :p also sorry it’s not as long as the last chapter, it’s been almost two months sooooo…. yeah i’ll make it short and sweet, cause i really wanna finish this before i go to uni! ♡

𝜗𝜚 Chapter Seven | Chapter Nine

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blushsturns · 7 months ago

Text

perv! matt x innocent! reader ♡

part one ‪‪❤︎‬ movie night

head canons found here!

w/c- 2091

you had lost count of how many pairs of lacy panties have gone missing in your drawer. you assumed maybe they got lost while doing your laundry, but each time you did your laundry you made sure you had everything accounted for.

it was almost driving you crazy how you had lost several pair of panties, until you found out who the culprit was. matthew sturniolo. the boy next door.

matt was shy, awkward, but adorably sweet. you had caught him a couple times staring at you in your miniskirts, stockings, and heels. you assumed it was natural for boys to stare, but sometimes he couldn’t take his eyes off you. your eyes would meet, and he’d instantly go red in the face and turn his attention elsewhere. he always ended up staring back at you again while trying to be subtle about it. you always noticed.

so, when you invited the boys over to your house for a movie and pizza night, you caught on to matt and him stealing your panties. he excused himself to go to the bathroom. nick and chris were into the movie and hadn’t noticed you following after matt 30 seconds after he got up.

he wasn’t in the bathroom, not yet. your bedroom door was open with the light on like how you left it. you heard him scurrying around in there. you were silent so he didn’t catch you. matt stood there in front of your dresser, his hand holding a pair of your new lace pink panties you just got the other day. his fingers traced over the hem that was covered in lace with a pretty pink bow on the front.

your eyes widened in surprise at the sight. no one has ever done anything like this to any of your things before, especially your items that were intimate. you weren’t sure what to do but stand there and watch. your eyes moved down to the front of his gray sweatpants, his evident hardened bulge now on display. your cheeks flushed a bright shade of pink at the sight, knowing your panties were the reason he had gotten a hard on.

matt slipped the panties into his back pocket and closed your dresser door. your body immediately moved away from the wall and over to the living room and on the couch, so he didn’t see you snooping on him. your heart was beating out of your chest, your mind racing by the second that you couldn’t keep up with it. a couple seconds later, matt appeared into the living room as if nothing happened. you tried to be discreet, your blanket laying comfortably on your lap with your knees propped up against your chest. nick and chris were so invested in the movie they hadn’t even paid attention to matt walking back into the room, but you did.

he looked over at you, your eyes now locking together in a brief moment. all you did was flash him a small smile and he immediately got red in the face, a small smile appearing onto his lips as he sinks back into the couch on the opposite side next to chris. it was dark in the room despite the glare of the tv constantly with each scene and the light dim of the candle you had placed in the living room to fit the mood for the evening.

the movie was far from over, but you couldn’t even concentrate on it. not after what you had just witnessed. you snuck a few glances towards matt and every time you looked over at him, his eyes were already on you before immediately pulling his gaze away once he noticed your stare. it was evident his cheeks were red as you noticed he began to chew onto his bottom lip, his hand moving up to run through his messy hair.

it’s not like you haven’t noticed matt before. you all have been friends for years since the day you moved next door. they immediately befriended you and you all did almost everything together. nick and chris were protective in a friendly way, but matt always seemed a little different when it came to your friendship. he was easily flustered, never seemed to take his eyes off you, and seemed really jealous and upset anytime you hung around a boy or had a boyfriend in general. he took more time getting to know you and your little quirks. he remembered things about you that the others didn’t.

you thought nothing of it at the time. matt was always typically quieter and more kept to himself. he never really had a girlfriend, not that you knew of. you didn’t notice the difference between matt and the other boys until recently. maybe you liked it. maybe you hadn’t had that kind of attention before and it was flattering yet turned you on at the same time.

matt was a good-looking guy. he was pretty to look at. he was awkward, but in an adorable way. he was smart, sensitive, and very caring. you always thought it was so sweet how attentive he was and was always there for you when you were going through a really hard breakup. so maybe he had a crush on you. could you possibly have the same feelings towards him? you never thought about it. not until you noticed your panties missing and the way he looked at you, almost like he was trying to sneak a peak of your ass in your lacy panties underneath the skirts you wore.

you cleared your throat before speaking, “i’m hungry. does anyone want popcorn?” nick and chris immediately in unison chanted a loud 'yes' and matt nodded his head as his eyes were now on you again. you smiled at them, your eyes now locked on matt’s. “great. i’ll go make us some.”

you instantly got off the couch and was about to head over to the kitchen when matt stood up too. “i’ll help you.”

all you could do was nod your head, flashing him a small smile before heading into the kitchen with matt following behind you. was he looking at your ass in your skimpy pajama shorts? he sure was. he watched the way your hips swayed from side to side, your ass round and plump, and the way the fabric of your shorts hugged your curves. you also had on a tank top with your zip-up sweater over it and he found himself eyeing your perfectly shaped breasts.

as you were about to reach up to grab the popcorn in the top cabinet, he immediately took the initiative. “here, i’ll get it for you.” as he reached up to grab the popcorn box from the cabinet, your eyes caught a glance of pink lace panties hanging slightly out of his back pocket. you knew he had grabbed them, but this was just pure indication that you weren’t seeing things. your face must’ve spoke for you as he instantly noticed your eyes glancing at his back pocket. his hand patted the back of his jeans, his eyes widening in surprise before pulling his hoodie down to cover it. “i-“ he stammered his words, his cheeks growing hot and red by the second.

you weren’t sure how you were going to approach this, but you were honestly quite flattered. he stood next to the counter, his hand still placed onto the box of popcorn as he chewed onto his bottom lip as a nervous habit. you stood next to him, bumping his shoulder as you leaned into him, your lips now brushing against his ear as you spoke softly against it, “you know, if you wanted a pair of my panties, you could’ve just asked me.”

you weren’t sure where the confidence in you came from, but you knew you had to say something rather than let it linger in the air that he did indeed take a pair of your panties from your drawer. your breath was hot and heavy against his ear, and you not only visibly see him tense up, but you felt it next to you. he was flustered and completely red in the face now, the redness on his cheeks now creeping up against his neck. “i..i’m sorry. i can p-put them back? y-yeah i can do that.” he didn’t look your way, his hand resting the box of popcorn on the counter and placing both of his hands onto the counter, his knuckles going white from gripping the counter a little too hard.

“no, no.” you immediately spoke up, shaking your head at his words. he was obviously flustered and couldn’t find the words to speak. he probably didn’t realize you would catch him and was embarrassed. it was adorable, actually. “keep them. do whatever you want with them. but they look far better on me. i know you have taken a peek once or twice.” you giggled softly at your own words, surprised that you actually admitted this out loud.

“y-you noticed that?” he stammered his words, now having the courage to look over at you, his cheeks and neck bright red. “i-im sorry, i-“

you cut him off, your hand falling over to his shoulder as your eyes locked onto his. something inside of you wanted to tease him, liking the reactions you were getting out of him. it was cute and kind of turning you on. “no, don’t apologize. it’s kind of cute. a bit of a turn on.”

a part of you wondered what he did with the panties he took from your drawer. did he keep them in his own drawer? use them to get off? was he planning on keeping them as a trophy like the guys in the movies who would keep girls’ panties like souvenirs? your thoughts were on overdrive as you imagined the possibility of what he did with your panties. you snapped out of your own thoughts, moving your hand to place onto his that was still gripped onto the counter to try and relax him. your pinky finger laced around his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

he kept his eyes on you, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed nervously. he moved his free hand to run through his messy locks before his hand traveled to the back of his neck and caressed it out of a nervous habit. his eyes locked down at your pinky’s being locked together, his cheeks heating up even more if that were possible considered he was already as red as a tomato. “i-i’m glad you think so. listen i want to explain. i-“

his words were cut off by chris yelling from the living room. “where the hell are you guys? me and nick want popcorn dammit!” you silently cursed underneath your breath. this could not be worse timing. “patience, chris!” you shouted back to him, hoping to shut him up. apparently, that snapped matt back to reality and he shook his head, a soft sigh emitting from his lips. he pulled his hand away from yours. “we should probably make this popcorn, huh?”

you had to admit you were disappointed. you wanted him to explain, but you knew he was nervous as it was, and his brothers were impatient and ruining the mood. matt put the popcorn in the microwave. as it was starting to pop, you began to reach over to grab a big bowl for the popcorn and some salt. when you turned your head over your shoulder, you noticed matt was glancing back over to your ass like he was mesmerized by it. you felt your own cheeks heat up as he was checking you out. your eyes glanced down to the bulge in his pants, the same way it looked the moment he was in your bedroom staring at your panties. you could tell he was big in size and the thought of it underneath the fabric made your tummy flutter and your thighs want to squeeze together.

just as you were about to speak, the sound of the microwave went off, signaling the popcorn was done. you let out a soft sigh, placing the bowl to your chest with the salt in your hand. matt grabbed the popcorn out of the microwave and closed it. looks like the rest of the night was going to be like any usual night when you all hung out.

the only difference? your panties still buried in matt’s back pocket.

taglist: @sturnshood @strangelife122 @jessie-essie @giveheavensomehell @rina3476 @chrissturnioloslvt

A/N- i hope you guys liked it! i’m really enjoying this AU so if you want more just like/reblog and let me know and i’ll keep going with it. thank you to @sturnshood for helping me with the pictures. ♡

heads up! this is inspired by the au that @mattscoquette has originally written, with my own spin on it.

if you want to be on my taglist, go to this post and like it or comment and i'll add you.

thank you so much! :)

-nessa ღ

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolotriplets #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo au #matt sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fanfiction #sturniolo triplets fanfic #matthew sturniolo smut #blushsturnsღ #perv!matt #innocent!reader

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bitchinbarzal · 6 days ago

Note

Sloane getting mad at her parents and says she’s going to live at uncle Ja’s house?

The bedtime fight started over toothpaste.

Then it became about pajamas.

Then the number of books.

Then whether she could sleep with her tablet.

And when you said no to that, it spiraled into full-blown foot-stomping declarations of injustice.

“I don’t wanna live here anymore!”

Joe was already kneeling beside her, trying to reason, but her little fists were clenched and her cheeks were blotchy.

You sighed. “Sloane, you’re tired. Let’s take a deep breath.”

“I’m not tired,” she snapped. “I’m movin’ out. I’m goin’ to Uncle Ja’s house. He lets me have waffles and play games. He don’t be mean like y’all.”

“Okay,” Joe said softly, running a hand down his face. “You can talk to him about that tomorrow. But it’s bedtime now.”

“No!” she shrieked, and flopped onto the rug in full protest.

Eventually, you managed to coax her into bed. Bunny tucked under her arm. Her face turned toward the wall.

She didn’t say goodnight.

At 11:12 p.m., the baby monitor app pinged your phone.

“Motion detected – Sloane’s room.”

You frowned, half-asleep, nudging Joe in the ribs. “She’s moving.”

He groaned. “Probably kicked off the covers.”

Then another notification: “Front door – activity.”

You sat bolt upright. “Joe—”

He was already on his feet, bolting down the hallway.

You caught up as he reached the front hallway, your chest tight with dread. And there she was.

Four years old, in light-up sneakers and her sparkly Elsa backpack, dragging her stuffed bunny in one hand and clutching a water bottle in the other. Hair messy. Eyes determined. Little chin quivering.

She had just managed to pull the door open when Joe caught it.

“Sloane,” he breathed, voice trembling. “What are you doing?”

She looked up, wide-eyed but still stubborn. “I told you. I’m going to Uncle Ja’s.”

You stepped forward, kneeling to her level. “Baby, no. No, you can’t ever, ever do that again.”

“But I packed!” she cried. “I got my stuff and my bunny and my jacket and everything—”

Joe dropped to the floor beside her. His hands were shaking.

“You tried to leave the house,” he said softly, voice thick. “By yourself. In the middle of the night. What if something had happened to you? What if someone took you, Sloane? Or you got lost, or—” His voice broke.

You reached out and touched her cheek. “Sweetheart, you scared us so much. We thought you were asleep. We didn’t know you were planning to go anywhere.”

She looked between you both. The anger was gone now. Replaced by confusion and a creeping sense of guilt.

“But I told you I was mad. And you didn’t listen. Nobody ever listens.”

You gently cupped her face. “We’re listening now. Okay? We hear you. You were upset and we should’ve helped you feel better. But baby, leaving the house? That’s dangerous. Really dangerous.”

Joe wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly against his chest. “You can always be mad at us, Bug. But you can never just go. You have to stay safe. You have to stay here. With us.”

“I just wanted waffles,” she mumbled into his hoodie. “And my tablet.”

Joe huffed out a breath and kissed the top of her head. “We can figure those things out. But you gotta talk to us. Not sneak away. Please.”

She sniffled. “I didn’t know it was bad.”

You looked at Joe, both of your faces pale. She was four. She really didn’t know.

But now she would.

That night, she slept in your bed. Between you and Joe, clinging tightly to her bunny. Her tiny hand never left Joe’s chest, like she was making sure he was still there.

You barely slept. Neither did he.

Around three a.m., he whispered, “We need a better lock.”

The Next Morning She sat at the table in her favourite hoodie, sleepy and quiet, staring at her waffles.

Joe crouched beside her, hand resting on her knee.

“You promise me something, Sloanie?”

She nodded.

“No more leaving the house. Not for Uncle Ja. Not for waffles. Not for anything.”

Her voice was quiet. “I promise.”

He kissed her temple. “Thank you.”

She looked at him. “Are you still mad?”

Joe shook his head. “I was never mad. Just scared. I love you too much.”

“I’d miss me too, don’t worry daddy.”

#sloane burrow #joe burrow x reader

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morose-melodies · 11 months ago

Note

hello!

First,i have something to say to the fatuis in the pregnant reader fic...JOKES ON YOU İ HAVE A HİGH CHANCE OF MİSSCARRİAGE AND PROBABLY NEVER HAVE KİDS(we can act like this part doesnt exists)

anyway,onto the point.Can i request capitano,dottore,Childe and pantalone with a reader who acts really REALLY cold towards them and refuses to ask any favor from them?like- even if they are thirsty in the middle of the night,they would just sleep,wait until the morning and then ask one of the maids for a cup of water.if anything here makes you uncomfortable you are free to ignore it!

cold as snezhnaya | various! yandere! fatui harbinger x reader

a/n: I got a little bit lazy sorry!!

CAPITANO

capitano would bend over back for you, he'd do whatever you pleased... if only you'd ask.

initially, the captain hadn't noticed your cold demeanor, or... he simply didn't pay mind to it. perhaps you were having a bad day? well, he'd do everything in his power to make you feel better.

but, it never seemed to work.

no matter how many times he'd come home to you after a long grueling mission, you were still the same.

he had tried approaching you differently, giving you space, and even coming home with gifts. nothing worked.

perhaps you were afraid of him? he would remove his mask and armor before approaching you, and he would try to smile more for you - once again, nothing worked.

he wouldn't give up on you, ever. you were worth fighting for.

"(y/n)," he approached you one early morning, watching from a distance as you poured yourself, "how have you been? is there anything you'd like?"

he could hear you sigh once he started speaking.

"no."

he, too, sighed. you were complex - confusing but capitano wanted to figure you out. he wanted to suit you and be whatever pleased you.

but, he had tried everything. if he were being honest with himself, he was getting frustrated - not with you but himself.

he placed a hand on the counter, and watched you. he wanted to plead with you, to understand how you were feeling, to understand why.

"is there something upsetting you? you could tell me and we would-"

"no. no, I'm fine."

you took your tea and turned to leave.

the captain prided himself on his self-control. he would never lash out at you, so, why did he take a large step towards you and grab your arm?

if you weren't afraid of him before, surely you were now.

"(y/n), please. tell me what I could do for you, anything, ask anything of me. do you not understand how much I care for you?"

when you tried to pull away, a shocked look on your face, his grip tightened, "(y/n), answer me. do it or I swear to the archons-"

"let go-!" tugging once again, you tried to free your arm from his painful grip, "let me go! that's what i want."

he released you immediately.

if you asked, he'd never show his face to you again.

"(y/n), forgive me," he started, looking at you, at the way you looked at him and couldn't finish - he stood there, his heart pounding hard against his chest.

he was the worst, was he not?

he would spend the rest of his life working for your forgiveness, and wouldn't regret a second of it.

DOTTORE

dottore had been considering something immoral as of late.

you've been acting differently, rude even and that was him putting it nicely. sure, he had been selfish by taking you from your home to be with him.

but, he was a selfish man.

your behavior was looked down upon, oh, how dottore hated it. it was unreasonable and immature.

he wished you'd grow up and talk to him about it instead of sulking and dragging your feet around the manor.

after a few attempts, dottore had given up on tending to your needs; he stopped trying to make you feel at home.

it didn't exactly matter how you felt, did it? you were here to make him happy, no? so, why were you making him feel so frustrated?

the sound of shattering glass caught dottore's attention - looking down at his bloodied hand, he saw that he had squeezed the small vial just a bit too hard.

you were becoming a distraction, a very bad problem.

now, as for what he was considering. well, he wanted you to change, to be the lovable angel you once were, it seemed impossible, oh, but it wasn't. not for him anyway.

and, it only took him five months to perfect it. in the form of a small pill was a life-changing drug.

"go get (y/n) for me," dottore asked of an assistant, pocketing the pill with his bloodied hand, oops. dottore looked at his hand, grimacing, he'd need to patch it up sooner than later.

a few minutes had passed when the assistant came back, peeking into the officer nervously, "come in - don't just stand there," dottore shook his head at the man.

"she's asleep, sir."

oh yes, it was nearly four in the morning. dottore nodded and waved the man off, he pocketed the pill and bandaged his hand.

...

while you were idly staring out a window, dottore dropped the pillow into your tea as he passed you by.

he'd be lying if he said he wasn't feeling even a little bit excited.

soon enough, you'd be the same (y/n) he met years ago, he mused as he made his way to his bedroom. oh, he needed rest badly and his back was killing him.

you took the mug and sipped the drink.

you pressed your cheek against the cold glass once more, your warm breath fogging up the glass. in the next few hours, you would idly sip your drink until it was gone.

dottore slept soundly, having forgotten about everything he'd done in the past few months. he was exhausted.

so, when you opened his bedroom door, peeking in at him.

he was confused.

"dottore, could I sleep beside you?"

"... of course," nonetheless, he agreed, how could he deny you?

CHILDE

childe had randomly, at some point, anticipated that you might hate him and never return the love he feels for you.

it was a passing thought, though. he'd never sat down and thought of how he'd react, or how he'd convince you to love him.

but, now that he's in that exact situation, he's been thinking nonstop about it.

he didn't want you to hate him - he didn't want you to feel out of place in snezhnaya, he wanted you to be loved, and feel safe - he wanted you to feel at home.

seeing that you didn't enjoy being here or anywhere near him, his mind was fuzzy - he hadn't thought a straight thought in a while, especially when you were near. he wanted to hug you, or drop to his knees and beg you to love him back - if it would work, then he'd do it.

he was getting a bit desperate.

it was getting increasingly uncomfortable to sit in silence while eating by your side - shouldn't the two of you be talking to one another; enjoying each other's presence like normal couples?

clearing his throat, ajax asked, "how's the food, (y/n)? my... my mom used to make it all the time when i was little. huh, it's probably not giving her justice... her's had a distinct taste."

he was met with silence.

uncomfortable silence.

"... she would make it for my birthday... uh, it was my favorite."

you glanced at him, before looking back down at your food.

childe sighed, resting his chin into his palm as he looked at you. he was super frustrated "you're upsetting me, (y/n)... as much as i hate to admit it."

you lifted your head to look at him, your eyebrow raised, your fork hanging in your hand, "why's that?"

it was that! that exact attitude, that's why he was so upset! without much of a second thought, childe tugged you out of your chair, holding onto your arm tightly.

"gosh, (y/n), what's with you!? I love you, i love you so much! s-so why are you acting like this!? just tell me! tell me so i can make it better!"

squeezing your arms, his hands trembled. he was at his wits end with you; he just wanted your love, was that too much to ask for?

pulling you against his chest, he hugged you tightly, "(y/n), what did I do so wrong?" he pressed his lips to the top of your head, kissing you. "let me make it better, please let me fix this."

PANTALONE

pantalone only ever gave you his best.

in appearance and attitude. you'd never catch him being angry, or having his hair disheveled - that was below him.

so, he couldn't understand why you were appreciative of all the effort he put into you - he would buy you nice clothing, hire maids to do your hair, have large breakfasts made for you, and even allow you to roam the garden freely.

he does all of that and yet you won't even speak to him willingly - it was disheartening, least to say.

but, he was understanding. you were scared, that had to be it, right? this was a very sudden change for you, of course, you were afraid.

or so, he thought.

as time passed, and he gave you time and space, he realized you were just cold to him and now, he simply couldn't understand why.

he treated you very well; he gave you affection and nice things, and he even gave you space when it seemed you needed it.

but, no matter what he did, he had never gotten a single 'thank you' from you. you had no manners and that upset him more than anything.

admittedly, he had gotten too angry.

watching you roam the snowy garden without as much as a coat frustrated him, but it mattered not; he'd give you his coat, and you would thank him if that was the last thing you did.

"(y/n), are you enjoying the garden?"

"I am."

"are you not cold?" as he walked nearer to you, he noticed you shifted away from him. once again, it did not matter! he would form you into a respectable person.

"no."

"you and I both know that's not true, here," slipping off his coat, he placed it over your shoulders and manually slipped your arms through the sleeves, "there - I'm sure you feel much better now, no?"

you stared down at the flowers, your lips pressed into a thin line.

oh, so you were upset now? "it was very gentlemanly of me to offer you my coat, a thank you would be kind."

he was simply suggesting it, or that's what his tone suggested anyway.

"I didn't ask for your coat, here you can have it back," you sighed, attempting to remove the coat to give back to him, "I'll go back in soon. it doesn't matter."

"no, no," he shook his head, placing a hand on your shoulder to keep the coat on, "it wouldn't kill you to thank me. have some manners, (y/n)."

he could see it in your expression, you were agitated. well, too bad.

"... (y/n), you're kidding me," he was surprised you'd be so stubborn, "can you not thank me? when have i ever asked this of you? not once. so, humble you-"

"thank you, pantalone, for the coat," you cut him off, glaring as you walked past him to go back inside.

it was a start! pantalone would take it. so, smiling to himself, he looked down at the flowers before him.

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woniwontons · 2 months ago

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could you possibly write a joaquin x fem reader fic where the reader gets severely injured after getting caught in the crossfire of a fight. can you make joaquin super anxious and guilty about it and have him really upset. when they see each other again he wont let himself touch her, and if she tries to touch him he physically shakes. idk if this makes since and i know you are probably busy, but i hope you like it.

i hope this is what you were looking for! this plot is pretty similar to a fic i already have (zephyr), so i made some tweaks to the request. 🥹🫶🏽

shrapnel of guilt | joaquin x reader

w.c: 2.8k; warnings: gunfire, blood, politicians, reader injury

“You’d look really good in one of those fancy dresses, you know.”

Joaquin leans over the back of the couch, dangling his government-issued invitation like it’s a golden ticket. His grin is all mischief, boyish and smug and clearly proud of himself for snagging a plus-one.

You don’t even look up from your laptop. “Is that your way of asking me to be your date, or do you just want to see me in a dress?”

“Both,” he says, dropping the invite in your lap. “Also, it's a state dinner. When do you ever think we'd get another opportunity like that?”

“Since when do you care about rubbing elbows with Senators? Especially after what happened after you met the ex-president.” you ask, giving him an amused side-eye.

Joaquin shrugs, climbing over the couch like the house was a jungle gym and flopping down beside you with a dramatic oomph. “Since Bucky said there’ll be press. Sam said that any positive publicity I can get as Falcon will help the public trust us again.”

You turn your head toward him. “And me showing up makes that better… how?”

“Because you make me look like a real person,” he says, a little too rehearsed. “Not just the new guy in wings, you'll make me look approachable and human. Sam really wants that for our image, to inspire the kids, you know?"

That silences you for a moment. His eyes search your face, playful glint softening into something closer to vulnerable.

"Are those your words or Sam's words?"

He exhales, tries to cover it with a chuckle, but avoided the question with a sheepish grin. “Also, I kind of just… want you there. Selfishly. I’ve been doing all these missions and briefings and press calls, and it’s boring without my girl around. It’d be nice to walk into this one with you.”

You blink, and he quickly adds, “You don’t have to. I mean, I can go alone. It’s not like—”

“No, I’ll come,” you say, cutting him off.

His brows shoot up, surprise giving way to a blinding smile. “Yeah?”

You nod once, trying not to let on how much his words got to you. “Yeah. But you're paying for the hair appointment.”

Joaquin throws his arms up in triumph, then collapses sideways across your lap like he’s been emotionally winded. “You’re the best. Just a perfect and great everything.”

You laugh, brushing his curls out of his face.

"Anything for you, Joaquin."

The ballroom of the White House shined like something out of an old movie. Warm amber chandeliers swing faintly overhead, their light scattering across polished marble floors and tall, mirrored columns. There’s a string quartet playing something soft near the far end of the room, and every table is dressed in crisp white linens and centerpieces that cost more than Joaquin’s entire wardrobe.

He’s never been to anything like this. Not for real.

And yet, you—standing beside him in a champagne-colored dress that clings and glimmers every time you move—fit into it effortlessly.

He barely hears the words coming out of Bucky’s mouth.

Something about intellectual property clauses. Legislative oversight. Sam, looking just as uncomfortable in his tux as Joaquin feels, nods along while sipping on his drink and subtly trying to loosen his tie.

Joaquin clears his throat and straightens his shoulders as a well-dressed older man approaches your group. A balding, sharp-eyed man with the telltale lapel pin of the New York State Senate.

“Senator Greene,” Bucky says, offering a handshake. “Thanks for taking the time.”

“Senator Barnes,” the senator replies, smile polite but guarded. “Wilson. Torres.”

Joaquin feels a jolt in his chest when he hears his name spoken like that.

He steps forward. “Good evening, sir. I’m Lieutenant Torres—and this is my—”

His voice catches slightly.

You smile and offer your hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Senator.”

There’s a second where Joaquin just watches. How you hold yourself, how your dress glows under the golden lights, how you don’t flinch under the weight of political scrutiny. Like you belong here more than he does.

Senator Greene accepts the handshake with a nod. “Likewise.”

There’s talk after that. Some mention of trademarks and future legislation. Sam cracks a joke about the Avengers’ name being harder to copyright than Mickey Mouse. Bucky deadpans something about merchandise royalties. Joaquin tries to keep up, but his mind wanders.

To you.

To how your fingers brushed his when you took your glass earlier. To the way your perfume still lingers on his jacket from when you leaned in to fix his crooked bow tie.

“I’ll be right back,” you say, voice low beside him.

He turns, startled. “What? Where are you...?”

“Bathroom,” you murmur, flashing him a look. “Don’t worry, I saw it on our way in.”

He nods, a little too quickly, trying not to make it obvious how reluctant he is to let you out of arm’s reach.

You glide through the crowd with ease, the hem of your dress brushing against the floor like liquid gold.

Joaquin turns back to the group just as the Senator launches into a longwinded story about his campaign.

But something unsettles him.

Maybe it’s just the chill from the nearby service doors. Maybe it’s nothing.

Still, he finds himself checking the time.

The Senator is still talking when the lights flicker.

It’s subtle at first, just a momentary dip in brightness. Enough to make a few guests glance upward, confused, before brushing it off with nervous laughs. Power surge, maybe. Faulty wiring in an old building. Nothing new.

But Joaquin’s stomach twists.

His eyes flick toward the direction you disappeared in, by the archway leading to the restroom hall. It was now half-obscured by servers weaving through the crowd with champagne flutes and dessert trays.

Then—

Boom.

The chandeliers rattle before shattering over the room, as a deafening blast erupts from somewhere deep in the east wing. The floor jumps under Joaquin’s shoes, glass rains from the ceiling like a second wave of shrapnel, and every conversation in the ballroom dies mid-breath.

Then comes the screaming.

Then the gunfire.

Sharp, deliberate cracks that echo off the marble, coming in calculated bursts as bodies begin to fall to the floor.

Joaquin’s ears are ringing so loud he can’t hear Sam yelling his name, but he sees him. Across the floor, pushing someone behind a pillar, waving Bucky into position. There’s already blood on the floor; someone hit by debris, maybe, or something worse.

Joaquin doesn’t move.

Not yet.

His eyes are locked on the archway.

The last spot he had seen you, reduced to partial rubble.

“No.”

He takes off running, shouldering past civilians, ducking when another round of gunfire erupts from the mezzanine. The air is thick with smoke now, coating his lungs in dust and plaster. He can’t tell if the pressure in his chest is adrenaline or panic or both.

He skids into the hallway, finding it empty.

Doors flung open. A sconce flickering. One of the Secret Service guards is on the ground, blood leaking from a gunshot wound to the throat.

Joaquin steps over the body and sprints for the bathroom.

All he can think is: Too slow. Too far. Too late.

“Please be okay,” he mutters, barely realizing he’s saying it aloud, over and over. “Please, please, please…”

He hits the women’s room door, shoulder first—it swings inward, hanging off one hinge, glass everywhere.

The mirror’s shattered.

The air smells like smoke and perfume and hot metal.

And there you are.

Slumped against the far wall near the sinks, knees drawn to your chest, arms trembling. Blood speckles your arms and collarbone. Nothing appeared deep, but enough to stand out against your champagne-colored dress.

Your eyes are closed tightly as you curl in on yourself, hands covering the top of your head.

Joaquin rushes to you, knees nearly buckling from relief.

“Hey, hey,” His voice is ragged, hoarse. “You're okay. You’re okay, baby. Look at me—”

You flinch when he touches you, but you don’t pull away.

“It's just me, I'm here. You’re not alone. Can you move for me?”

It takes a second. Then a slow, stiff nod.

He helps you up, gently pulling your arm around his shoulders. Your weight sags into him, and he grips your waist tighter. He badly wishes he could carry you, but putting your body in front of his felt wrong.

When he turns to lead you out, he steps over the body of a security guard face-down on the tile. Blood trails out beneath him like black oil, the edge of a steel pipe protruding from his back where the wall must’ve given out.

Joaquin keeps your head turned away.

Another wave of gunshots erupt from the ballroom, closer now. The familiar cracks of suppressed guns. The metallic clatter of fallen chairs. His ears are still ringing terribly, but his adrenaline cuts through the haze of his splitting headache.

He tightens his grip on you.

“We're getting you out of here, okay? I got you. Just stay behind me.”

Your fingers fist the lapel of his jacket like you’re afraid he’ll vanish.

Behind you, the shattered mirror glints under flickering lights.

Ahead, screams rise again.

But Joaquin doesn’t stop. Doesn’t slow.

The air tastes like ash.

Joaquin’s grip tightens around your waist as he pulls you through the smoke-filled ballroom, weaving between overturned tables and burning linen. The room around you had collapsed into chaos, elegance turned to warzone. Splintered chairs. Blood-slick marble. Glass raining down from the balconies where figures in all black move with terrifying precision, rifles snapping in controlled bursts.

You stumble, barefoot now, your heel lost back in the hallway. Your breathing is sharp, quick, shallow. Shock still holds you tight, your movements jerky and unsure. The cut across your arm glistens in the firelight, a thin, but angry red line. A slice from the mirror. You don’t speak, and he doesn’t ask you to.

Joaquin scans the room for cover, spots a fallen Secret Service agent not far ahead. Blood pools beneath the man’s jaw. One arm still clutches a sidearm.

Joaquin moves on instinct—snatching the pistol, checking the mag, then stepping in front of you.

“Stay behind me.”

You nod shakily, trying to wipe your face with trembling fingers.

He fires twice—cutting down a hitman on the upper balcony. The recoil shudders up his arm. Another burst rings out in retaliation, closer this time.

Then it happens.

A hollow crack, sharp and wrong, and your body jerks beside him.

The sound you make isn’t a scream. It’s a fracture in his already aching head, splitting the sanity holding him together.

You twist as the bullet grazes your shoulder, blood blooming against your dress like spilled paint. Your legs buckle. You fall hard, crashing backward into a table, then sliding to the floor, one hand clutching your shoulder, the other scrabbling for balance. Blood spatters across Joaquin’s collar as he instinctively turns towards you.

Without hesitation, without regard.

His vision narrows to nothing but you.

The horrible ringing in his head spikes to a blinding pitch. Static swallowing sound. The world moves in slow, jerking frames for him then. Somewhere behind him, people scream. He takes your body and drags it behind the cover of the table to survey your condition.

Joaquin drops to his knees beside you, grabbing your uninjured side, fingers already sticky with blood. His hands trembled. You’re conscious, but barely as you attempt to regain your bearings. Pain etched deep into your face. Your fingers dig into the wound for pressure to slow the bleeding.

“No, no, no.”

“I’m fine,” you gasp, voice breaking. “I’m okay, I swear—”

“You’re not okay! You’re bleeding," he cries out, at a loss.

You try to stand in retaliation to his words. He doesn’t let you.

One of his arms wraps around your back, the other bracing your legs as he prepared to lift you up.

“Joaquin!” Sam’s voice cuts through, distorted through the ringing. “You need to move now!”

Bucky clears a path ahead, covering with clean, practiced shots. Joaquin forces himself up, hauling you with him despite your cries. Every step you take, more blood soaks the fabric of your dress. You’re crying now, not just from the excruciating pain, but from fear. You’re trying to stay conscious, trying to stay calm, but it’s so much.

Joaquin sees the exit doors and barrels forward.

Two agents cover him as he crosses the foyer. A guard reaches out to him. “We’ve got her from here Lieutenant, go!”

“No, I’m staying with her!” he snaps, voice cracked and hoarse.

But you, barely standing, shake your head.

“You need to go back,” you cry. “They need you, they're outnumbered. I’m okay,” you wince, buckling slightly. “Just go. Please.”

Joaquin doesn’t move.

He doesn’t want to.

But you look at him with such pleading certainty, even through your tears, that something in him breaks. You reach out to him, but he falters then, stepping back away from you. His hands shakily undo his tie as he thinks to himself.

He turns to the nearest guard. “Get her out safely. I’ll find her. Find out which hospital the ambulance she will be going to and report back.”

The guard nods, pulling you gently into his arms.

Joaquin hesitates one second too long, eyes locked with yours, before turning back to the smoke.

The door clicks shut behind him with more force than intended.

He winces.

It’s nearly 3 a.m. The street outside is silent, wrapped in the hush of a city trying to sleep after the terroristic events of tonight. His ears are still buzzing; not from an explosion this time, but from the hours that followed.

Briefings. Statements. Orders. The President’s tight voice behind a sealed screen. His friends tense with restraint and anger at the situation. Pictures of bodies and bullet trajectories and names of people Joaquin shook hands with just hours ago.

All Joaquin could think about was the blood on your shoulder.

The way you screamed.

The way you crumpled to the floor from the pain of the shot, and yet he was morally forced to leave you.

He’d called to check on you more times than he could count. Left frantic voicemails if they were unanswered. A single text from your best friend that you were okay, just sleeping at home now.

“Just checking you’re home.” “Text me, please.” “I’m on my way now.”

He sets his keys down with a shaky breath and steps into the living room.

You’re there.

Curled sideways on the couch, into the oversized throw blanket he'd gotten you in your Halloween basket. The room is dim, lit only by the low blue flicker of the muted TV, still playing some old re-runs of your favorite show. An empty mug sat on the coffee table, your phone on the floor beside it.

You're fast asleep.

Your dress is gone and replaced with one of his old t-shirts. Your hair is damp, hinting towards the fact that you likely showered at some point. And your shoulder, the one that took the bullet, is wrapped in a thick bandage.

Joaquin swallows hard.

He drops slowly to the floor beside the couch, resting on his knees as his eyes trace over every inch of you. You had texted him that it was just a graze. The medic said it didn’t need stitches. Lucky.

But it doesn’t feel lucky.

Not when he can still see it. The blood. The way your body hit the table. The sound.

The implications of the position he'd put you in, unable to protect you in what was supposed to be one of the safest buildings in the country. How he begged you to come, only to regret it all. How much worse the situation could have been if the bullet had hit you just inches to the right.

His hand hovers inches above your hand but never lands. His fingers twitch, aching to press against your skin, to feel you warm and alive and breathing.

But he doesn’t.

Because he'd replayed the situation in his mind hundreds of times already. He shouldn't have brought you, should've walked you to the bathroom, should have made sure you were covered before he returned fire, should've...

But he didnt. And so, he just sits there in his self-made wallow and contemplation. Because some part of him thinks if he touches you, you’ll wake up and flinch. You'll hate him for making you go with him, blame him for not being a better man for you.

He's shaking in his silence. Watching your chest rise and fall beneath the blanket, slow and steady and beautifully boring.

His head drops into his hands.

And for the first time since the explosion, he fall apart. Lowering himself down to the ground next to your place on the couch, letting his head rest on the floor. His gun placed on the coffee table, just within a moment's reach.

And silently cried for you.

#joaquin torres #captain america brave new world #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres fanfic #joaquin torres fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel #marvel x reader #danny ramirez #joaquin x reader #marvel imagine #fanfic request

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