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ilsanslut · 9 months

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꒷♡꒷ STUCK!

♰ featuring: nagi seishiro + shidou ryusei (separate) [blue lock]

♰ note: thank you all so much for supporting my last work as much as you did. it really means so much to me that people genuinely enjoy my writing and my content! now, as my second-ever work, i would appreciate it greatly if you would continue to support my work by reading, liking, and reblogging! also, I tried to make their sections as even as possible, but i'm a ryusei simp so uhhh enjoy!

sypnosis: in which you find yourself stuck in a rather precarious position and your boyfriend decides to "help" you. not without proper payment first, though. wc: 3.4k content/trigger warning(s): 18+. SMUT. fem/fem-bodied reader. stuckage. shidou is a warning on his own. accidental choki abuse (nagi). dry humping. degradation. unprotected sex. rough sex. creampie/breeding. spanking. name-calling/dirty talk (ryusei). ꒷꒦

NAGI SEISHIRO.

It was a normal weekend, unlike any other. It was just before noon, and you were cleaning your and Seishiro’s shared apartment while he was at the gym with Reo. You were diligently working to remove the accumulated dust from your wooden dresser with a disinfectant wipe that had a coconut scent when, all of a sudden, your hand bumped into something rather hard.

“Choki!!”

You shrieked, watching in horror as your boyfriend’s beloved potted cactus flew off of the dresser and knocked into the wall behind it. Everything moved in slow motion, and you could only gawk in horror as the pot spun once, twice, and then tumbled behind the dresser. You grimaced inwardly, awaiting the sound of shattering ceramics and the dull shuffling of displaced dirt, but it never came. Instead, the sound of the pot sliding down the wall and "gracefully" hitting the floor was heard instead.

With baited breath, you grabbed your phone, turning it to flashlight mode. You used it as a visual aid as you peered behind the dresser to assess the damage, sighing with relief when you saw Choki, Seishiro’s child, lying almost undisturbed between the wall and the backboard of the dresser.

Now here comes the difficult part, moving the dresser.

Kicking off your fuzzy house slippers to give yourself some traction, you grabbed the back end of one side and mustered all of your strength to shove the heavy thing out of the way—slowly, of course. Choki’s life was at stake here. However, you were only able to move the heavy thing out of the way just enough so that you could slip part of your body inside to reach for the plant. It was still a very tight fit.

Getting on your knees, you maneuvered between the tiny space you created, squeezing your arms, shoulders, and ribcage between them until the tension finally gave way at your waist. Breathing out in relief, your fingertips finally managed to grace the pot’s edge, pulling it into your grasp.

“Got . . . cha . . !”

You tried to shuffle backward, but you couldn’t. Attempting once more, you would come to realize that the dresser and the wall had some sort of death grip on your hips, rooting you in place. You were stuck. Trapped. And Nagi wouldn’t be home for another 30 minu—

“Y/N, what are you doing?”

You breathed, overjoyed at your boyfriend’s sudden voice. He always had the habit of moving in complete silence, despite his massive size. You hadn’t even heard him come home.

“Sei, oh, thank god! C-Can you pull me out? I think I’m stuck!”

You could barely make out the sound of his soft footsteps padding against the wooden floor as he made his way over to you. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body as he stood behind you, yet he made no effort to save you just yet.

“How did you even manage to do something like this?”

His confused tone held an unamused lilt, one that made your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“I was cleaning the dresser, and I accidentally knocked Choki over. They’re fine! B-But I can’t get out . . .”

Still nothing.

Was he mad? Disappointed? Since you could not see him, you could not tell. You were aware, though, that his gaze was "burning" into you. You shifted, partially in discomfort, as you made a point to wiggle your hips so that he could focus on the task at hand. As a result, you could hear him drawing in a sharp breath through his teeth. Before you could ask him what he was doing, you felt him kneel behind you. His two strong hands came into contact with the exposed skin around your hips, where your shirt was rising. He did not pull, though. The opposite happened; you felt him pressing against you, his bulge delightfully nestling against your folds through your thin pajama shorts.

“Seishiro?!”

He effectively silenced your confused warble in exchange for a surprised squeal when his open palm placed a firm smack on one of your cheeks. All the while, he shamelessly ground himself against your core, stating, “That was for Choki." You swore that you could hear the pout in his voice when he spoke.

“Removing you would be a hassle. Besides, I’m tired.”

B-But what about me?!

You wanted to protest, however, you refrained. You felt his lithe fingers pinch the fabric just over your clit as he pulled it to the side, resting it against your ass and exposing your pretty folds to his prying eyes. You heard his hands rustling with his sweatpants and boxers before you felt him tapping the pretty pink-flushed tip of his cock, which you loved so much, against your sensitive bud causing you to keen and your toes to curl.

“Wish you could see how pretty you look right now.” He mumbled, teasingly pressing the head of his cock against your entrance a few times, but never pushing in fully.

“I-If you got me out, Sei, then maybe I could . .” Your voice was unsteady as your anticipation began to build in the form of your puffy folds beginning to leak for him, the lewd sounds of it squelching around his tip echoing in your quiet room.

He answered you with silence and actions rather than with words. In one swift motion, he pushed entirely into you, and without waiting for you to adjust, he began to thrust his hips into you at a steady pace. You clenched around him, nails scratching against the backboard of the dresser, the wall, the floor—anything to brace yourself from your boyfriend’s fervent pace. Once he got started, he wouldn’t stop until he spilled entirely inside of you, filling you to the brim with his cum.

“S-Sei, it’s too much!” You mewled, yet your body writhed with pleasure. You always said this, and yet, he knew you could take it. You've done it many times before. That’s why he reached further into the space you had created to bunch up the back of your his shirt and used it as leverage as though he were pulling your hair to pummel into you faster and deeper. Your ass rhythmically pounded on his pelvis, sending a lewd ringing through your own ears as it echoed off the bedroom walls. Something about this precarious situation you were in mixed with the feeling of Seishiro’s cock hitting those sweet spots inside of you, enthralled you more than usual. You were close and he could feel it.

“Gonna cum f’me, already?” He grunted as his other hands squeezed your hip, their blunt nails digging into your flesh. His moans were heavenly, a sound you longed to hear, as your walls fluttered around him. The hand that was on your hip pressed itself against the edge of the dresser, shoving it effortlessly to the side and thus freeing you from your confines. Although he appeared so unsuspecting, Seishiro’s strength, when he decided to use it, was frightening. Your lower half fell to the ground, your breasts and cheek smushing against the wooden floors as you felt his soft fingertips rubbing fast, furious circles around your clit.

“Oh my god, S-Sei, I-I’m gonna—”

“C’mon, make a mess for me, pretty.”

You did exactly that, creaming delightfully around his cock while mewing in ecstasy. Before long, you could feel Sei's hot seed bursting inside of you and filling up your pretty pussy to the brim, as well as his hips stuttering against you. Both of you were panting as he pulled out of you, your releases dribbling out of you and pooling beneath you onto the floor.

You finally managed to get off your sore knees and elbows as you turned to face your lover with trembling limbs. It was at this point that you noticed Seishiro's eyes, which were burning with something fierce and unknown, were boring into your own. His eyes resembled that hungry expression he would have when his ego started to rule him on the field.

“Let’s do it again, Y/N. On the bed this time.”

God, he was going to be the death of you someday.

SHIDOU RYUSEI.

You had a rather eventful day. Starting off leisurely in the morning, you and your boyfriend Ryusei enjoyed a pleasant brunch together before deciding to head out to the beach that day. You had to pick a spot with some privacy because Ryusei insisted he was only there to “freshen up his tan”, which required him to be in the nude, while you were there to enjoy his prescene, the sound of the waves lapping against the shore, and the sensation of sand between your toes. Only a short while ago, the two of you finally arrived home. Ryusei was currently taking his own shower, as you had already finished yours.

Relaxing on the couch in nothing more than an oversized shirt and your panties, you had decided to turn on some Netflix with the intention of finding either a good or a fun-bad horror flick to watch, when all of a sudden, the slippery lotion residue on your hands caused the remote to slip from your grasp and tumble onto the floor and skid beneath the coffee table. You groaned, head tossing back with exasperation, as this minor inconvenience was nearly enough to ruin your entire night and make you not even want to watch a movie anymore. Nonetheless, you sulked off the couch and sank to your knees, searching for the offending culprit beneath the coffee table. Somehow, it had managed to slide to the other side of the room, mocking you as it lay motionless between the walkway in the middle of the coffee table and the television. Any normal person would’ve simply gotten up and walked around the table to retrieve it, however, you were not like most people. I mean, look at your taste in men, for starters. Not to mention, you’re incredibly stubborn.

Instead, you crept beneath the table's glass top and between the second shelf, stretching your slender fingers as far as they could reach until they touched the black exterior of the remote. However, it was a little too far away for you to grasp, and your touch, combined with your wooden floors, only served to push it further away from you. You swore, glaring at the thing as though it had just offended your loved one, huffing in defeat as you decided to rise and walk to the remote.

But you couldn’t.

Your brow furrowed in perplexity as you placed one palm flat on the ground and the other on the surface beneath you, attempting but failing to push yourself back. You were wedged between the table's glass top and bottom shelves, flat on your chest. The more you wiggled, the further you seemed to wedge yourself in between the two surfaces that held you taut.

You stopped, dumbfounded. As much as you dreaded calling Ryusei for help because you knew he would taunt you endlessly instead of helping you . . . you did not have many other options.

“Ah, Ryu!!” Your voice carried through the hallways, hoping that he was out of the shower to hear you yell.

“. . . Yeah, babe?”

His voice made your heart lurch in your chest. You were already debating whether you should just say nevermind and try to wiggle out on your own, or put your pride aside and ask for his assistance. In the end, the latter would be victorious.

“Could . . . Could you come here for a second? . . . Please.” Your plea was quiet, your cheeks already burning with shame as you awaited your impending doom.

You raised your gaze towards the master bedroom, where he was currently. How cruel fate was to put you in a position where you would be forced to watch him approach. Each second felt like an eternity until you heard the soft padding of Shidou's feet leaving the carpeted bedroom to shuffle along the wooden floors, only to abruptly pause.

Sheepishly, you peeked up at him through your lashes to where he stood, chest bare, droplets of water dripping from his unstyled hair and body, a towel that he used for his hair wrapped around his shoulders, and a towel wrapped dangerously low around his waist. His face was expressionless, his fuchsia oculars taking in the scene before them in silence. Your shy, embarrassed gaze, the position of you between the coffee table, and the cursed remote only inches away from his own feet.

“—You’re stuck, aren’t you?”

How you wished you were facing the other way to avoid seeing the way that maniacal grin that nearly resembled the Joker's formed on his face and how his cat-like eyes narrowed at you in amusement at your misfortune.

“ . . Yes.”

He barked out a laugh at you, his head tossed back in sheer, unabashed mania, much to your chagrin. Even though you knew this would happen, your cheeks couldn’t help but burn with frustration and shame. “I know, very funny. Now, could you help me out here, please? My knees are getting sore.”

Despite your whines, his mockery would continue, his large hands grasping both ends of the towel that rested on his shoulders as he waltzed over to you leisurely. “Hmm, I dunno, babe~.” He continued walking until he crouched right before you, his legs spread wide enough for you to see that he was already semi-hard beneath the fabric. Of course, he would be aroused by your misfortune. Tearing your gaze away from his manhood, which was only inches away from your face, you peered up at him only to see him grinning mercilessly down at you with mischief twinkling in his eye. “I gotta admit, I like this view of you. How’d ya know doggy was my favorite position~?”

Probably because you’ve put me in it multiple times before, asshole. You wouldn’t say that, though. You didn’t want to prolong your torment any further.

“Ryuseii.” You whined, mustering your best pitiful glance in an attempt to draw even an ounce of sympathy from your demon of a lover. “Please?” You tried with a pout.

You couldn’t tell if your attempt worked, however, with the way Ryusei’s feral grin would reduce to a playful smirk, you figured that you have gotten through to him. He raised his hand, patting your head twice and making sure to tousle your hair while he was at it. “I’ll see what I can do, cutie.”

He made a move to rise to his feet but paused mid-squat, “No promises, though.”

You waited until he was out of your view to roll your eyes at him, hands bracing themselves against the floor as you awaited to be freed from this nightmare. Ryusei sank to his knees behind you, humming aloud as though he were trying to make a big play out of figuring out how to get you out—or how you got there to begin with. His slender digits grasped at your waist, tugging halfheartedly. You knew better than anyone that Ryusei was capable of hoisting you into the air and tossing you around as though you were nothing. That being said, it was beyond obvious to you that he was obviously making a poor attempt on purpose.

“Wow, I dunno, Y/N. You see pre-tty wedged in here . . Maybe this’ll help.”

You had no idea when he had the opportunity to do it, but he had dropped his towel somewhere along the way, and you could feel him rubbing his semi-hard on against your panty-clad ass and making your clothed folds the focal point of attack.

“Ryusei—!” In frustration and arousal, you laboriously dragged out the syllables of his name. As much as you wanted to be mad at him, you knew that something like this was coming.

“Mm, yeah, keep saying my name just like that, baby.” He sighed blissfully, shamelessly now humping himself onto you until he was full mast, his hardened shaft twitching excitedly between your pillowy ass cheeks while his blushed tip beaded with pre. “Hah, shit, that’s it. ‘Could cum right now, all over ya’. You want that, angel? Want me to paint this pretty ass—” He paused, raising his palm high into the air before bringing it down unforgivingly against your rear to accentuate his point. “Look at that. Ya want me to paint this pretty ass with my nut, hm?”

"Yes, please, Ryu . . ?" You said against your better judgment as your thighs pressed against one another and your teeth dug into your bottom lip.

He chuckled throatily, already pulling your panties down your plump thighs until they rested on the backs of your knees. He lined himself up with your already drooling cunt, not wasting any time to push into you with one single thrust. He bottomed out inside of you, drawing all of the breath from your lungs. His pelvis pressed flush against you, blunt nails biting into the flesh of your hips and ass as he greedily pulled you against him. It was almost as if he were trying to force himself further into you than he already could. You whimpered beneath your breath, clenching around his cock as you felt his balls pulsing against your sensitive clit. He had only just entered you, and already he was about to cum.

“Greedy fuckin’ pussy.” He snarled through clenched teeth, picking up his pace. “Grippin’ me so tight, suckin’ me in so good, ngh—s-so desperate to be stuffed with a cock.”

His thrusts were sloppy and uncoordinated, but he did everything he could to keep bullying his cock into you, drool dribbling over his parted lips. It should be illegal for you to feel this good. It wasn't fair. He wanted to ravish you—take his time turning your cunt into his personal little pocket pussy, his perfect fucktoy, already premolded to the shape of his dick. But damn, he was about to bust, and you were approaching your climax too.

His pace grew relentless, barely giving you time to breathe or even think as he forced your hips to fuck back onto him, drawing a helpless gasp or delighted moan from your pretty lips with each impassioned thrust. You squirmed in his hold, your breath coming out in hot tufts as your end grew near.

“R-Ryu, baby, hah, mphf!!” You could barely get the words out as he fucked you within an inch of your life. “I-I’m close! M-My clit, please! I c-can’t reach it; touch me, plea—”

“No.”

His response was curt—simple, snarled out in what could only be described as a ferocious growl. His movements grew sloppier, his hips faltering in their pace as his cock throbbed heartily inside of you, ready to burst. “You cum on my, ngh, fuckin’ cock or not at all. Ya hear me, y’little cock-lovin’ slut?”

You whined in protest, to which the forward brought his palm down heavily on your already reddening cheeks from just his grip on you alone. If he could’ve reached you, he would’ve had a vice grip on your hair by now. “Answer me, bitch.” He spat with false malice, “Y’gunna cream around my cock? Make this fat dick a mess, hm?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Came your loud, unabashed chorus of unfiltered, unadulterated moans of sheer bliss.

Neither of you could hold back anymore. Ryusei spilled rope after rope of his hot, sticky seed into your abused cunt while your pretty folds creamed around his shaft in a way that could only be described as tantalizing. Silence, aside from both of your spent keens and blissed panting, filled the air around you. Once he was certain you were plugged full with his cum, Ryusei effortlessly snatched your body from between the coffee table, causing your exhausted body to collapse into his lap. As exhausted as he was, he made sure to cup your head so that it didn’t hit the ground too hard. He was always the sweetest when his post-nut clarity hit him. He took in your expression, noticing that your eyes were half-lidded and glassy with fat tears spilling from your waterline; your drool-covered lips were plump, red, and raw with the faintest of indentations along them from your pearly teeth; and your body convulsed and twitched ever so slightly from the sheer intensity of your orgasm. Not to mention the utterly fucked-out and euphoric look on your face.

. . . Ah, shit. He was hard again.

“Still with me, princess? . . Good. Come suck this cock clean and let me ruin that pretty face of yours even more~.♡”

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withleeknow · 4 months

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forgetful.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff; minho is lowkey the biggest simp wbk, unedited ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ word count: 0.9k note: first fic of 2024! don't look at me tho, at this point i just keep writing the most self-indulgent shit lol

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

minho is the type to - 15 seconds after he meets you for your weekly date night - ask you where your gloves are when he sees your reddened and shivering hands. there was a greeting kiss preceding the question, of course.

"i think we both know what the answer is," you tell him, trying to rub your hands together for warmth until he takes them and presses your cold fingers against his cheeks, before he kisses your palms.

"what’s the point of getting matching gloves if you keep forgetting yours?" he says, a light scolding tone in his voice that matches the slight frown tugging on his brows.

"it's not my fault!" you try to defend yourself. you'd raise your hands for emphasis, but he's still keeping them near his face, alternating between kisses and blowing into them to get you all nice and toasty. "i keep them by the door on purpose so i wouldn't forget to take them with me when i go out. you have to at least give me a little credit for that. i just... never actually remember to bring them."

he rolls his eyes, an act that most would find patronizing especially if minho is the one who's doing it. but when it comes to you, everything minho does is full of affection, even as he pretends to be annoyed.

"what am i going to do with you?" he mutters like a disappointed parent.

"it was your idea to get the gloves. i didn't really need them though. i have you."

"but i'm not with you all the time, baby. you need to keep yourself warm."

"well, you're here with me, aren't you? you can keep me warm now. i'll worry about cold hands later."

squishing his cheeks together, you pull him toward you for a swift peck.

despite his exasperated sigh, minho still presses his lips against each of your palms one last time, even turns them over to kiss your knuckles, before he settles on intertwining his left hand with your right one, stuffing them in his coat pocket as he pulls the both of you toward the direction of your dinner reservation.

"wait!" you exclaim, holding up your neglected hand, "what about this one? it's cold too."

he turns to look at you, his face devoid of all emotions as he assesses your so-called dilemma. then, minho lets go of you, telling you to put both your hands in your own pockets.

"come onnn," you lament, pouting at the man in front of you.

"you come on," he retorts. "just do it."

you huff childishly, watching as the breath comes out in a puff of smoke in the cold air, thinking minho is really letting you fend for warmth by yourself for the remaining 10 minutes that it takes to walk to the restaurant.

it's not like you meant to forget the gloves at home.

before you can resume walking, minho moves to stand behind you, pulling you to him, eliciting a surprised oof! from you. he shoves his hands into your pockets, intertwining your fingers once again within the confines of the fabric as he shuffles you forward, his legs on either side of yours so it's easier for you to walk. the thick coats and wool scarves that you're both wearing already make you look like a pair of clumsy bears roaming the street, but with your back pressed against his front like this, you have no doubt that by-passers must be thinking you're two cotton balls waddling in the middle of the city.

"minho!" you laugh, partially embarrassed that people are side-eyeing this strange public display of affection. "stop!"

"you wanted me to keep you warm, didn't you?"

"people are staring!"

"you said you were cold." he seems unfazed though, continuing to nudge you forward like it's the most normal thing in the world. "make up your mind."

"i take it back!"

you do your best to plant your feet firmly on the ground to keep him from moving. it works though, or at least it staggers him enough for you to wriggle out of his hold. you take a few steps away from minho, and he looks at you with unimpressed eyes.

"i take it back," you repeat. "we're only a couple blocks away. i think i'll manage."

he stares at you for a moment longer, before he reaches into his bag and pulls out a pair of gloves, identical to the matching ones that you two picked out together a few weeks ago.

"how do you have my gloves?"

"these aren't the ones at your place," he clarifies. "this is your backup pair. i went back to the store and got them because i know you never remember to take shit with you."

you don't even try to suppress the grin that tugs on your lips when he walks closer to you, taking your hands and attentively covers your skin with the wool. "so you just... keep them with you at all times now?" you ask.

"pretty much, yeah."

once he's made sure that gloves are hugging your fingers snugly, you pull him down for a kiss, your lips moving together warmly. you feel him smile against you even though he's trying to look stern.

"you love me sooo much," you simper when you break from the kiss.

minho sighs, a long one as if to say yes, unfortunately i do love you very much.

"now come on." this time he does speak aloud. "let's go before they give away our table."

because that's just the kind of person minho is. because no matter how grumpy he may appear from the outside, he's still the type to always think of you and your wellbeing and show up for you even when you don't show up for yourself. no matter how callous his facade is, he is still the type to love you quietly. tenderly. completely.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho

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luveline · 7 months

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hiii jade! can you write something for spencer x badass!reader who despite being sick af, still shows up to work? ur writing always makes my day!! :)

hi, tysm for requesting my love ♡ fem

"What's up with you?" Morgan asks.

You don't have the energy to tell him to mind his business. "Nothing, I'm fine. What's up with you?"

"Sorry, are you asking me how I am?"

Morgan seems to think that you don't like him. It makes sense, in a way, because you've never been outwardly affectionate to him or even friendly, and he's constantly teasing you. But the reason you didn't like him or anyone on the team when you first joined beyond civil professionalism was because of how they treated Spencer.

You're older now, you've learned that they love him. But they don't appreciate him as much as they should, and so you resolve to appreciate them at a similar level. Spencer gets every ounce of love you have to give, and Morgan gets a smidge when he deserves it.

"Earth to Y/N. You sick?" Morgan asks.

You rub the space between your brows. "Sick of stupid questions, sure."

"Feisty. Where's Reid? Need me to give him a talk about being a better boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend."

"He's your something." Morgan's grin softens into a more serious expression, and for a few seconds, he takes you in. You hate being looked at with concern, standing as he asks, "Seriously, are you okay?"

"I'm okay, Morgan, thank you."

You speed walk away from the desk to the kitchenette on unsteady footing, where Spencer stands like the light at the end of a dark tunnel making a cup of tea. He bobs the tea bag up and down slowly, his eyebrows pinched together, as though this cup of tea is the most important thing in the world to get right. Your chest aches as you move, your breath noticeably shallow. Spencer must hear you, lifting his arm to gesture for you to come closer.

"Hey," he says. He usually speaks to you softly but this is a new level of gentleness. It goes without saying that if he were anybody else, his tone would drive you up the wall with annoyance, but he's Spencer. It must be the sugary brown of his eyes and the puppy dog essence to his smile, eager to please, that makes his concern a welcome one. "You okay? Come here."

You stand obediently at his side.

"You okay?" he asks again.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why does everybody keep asking me that?" you mumble, eyeing his cup of tea longingly. Your throat is sandpaper.

Spencer slides it toward you without comment. "Because you look sick. Not that you look bad, you don't, you always look nice, but your eyes are glassy, and you look a little clammy." He turns sideways. "You want your tea?"

"It's for me?"

"Yeah, it's for you. I put honey in it. I don't know if you like honey…"

You take the mug and drink it. Honey or not, you're gonna drink every sip, and not just because your throat is deteriorating rapidly. Spencer could make you a cup of hot dish water and you'd pinch your nose to knock it back.

"Thank you," you say in relief.

"Sure. Wanna go sit down?"

"I don't need to sit down."

"I'm not saying you do. I just," —Spencer laughs, his hand on your shoulder— "I need you to peer assess my last witness account file. You do it quicker than Morgan does."

"Oh, okay. Yeah, let's go do it."

Spencer shepherds you to his desk. Morgan peers not so subtly over the partition as you sit in Spencer's chair and roll into the front of his desk, reaching for a pen from his pen pot. You drink blind sips of tea between lines, reading over his file slowly. Your eyes grow heavier as the tea warms your chest, and Spencer's hand falls to your shoulder again.

"You should go home," he says quietly. He tricked you into sitting down, that's obvious now.

"I'm okay."

"You need to rest when you're sick or you'll only get worse," he says, his breath fanning against the short hairs by your ear.

You close your eyes at the sensation. "I can't go home."

"Why not?"

"Because I…" You list off. You're sure there was something to say, something important, but Spencer's presence stands behind you and your body must realise that if you want safety to pass out, this will be the place.

"Y/N," he says sympathetically.

"Can't drive," you mumble.

"I'll get you home, don't worry. You just sit here for a second while I sort it out, okay? Don't get up." He rubs down your arm roughly. For once, you get a sense of total confidence from him. You trust that he's gonna get you home in one piece. "Morgan, can you watch her?"

"'M not a kid," you say.

"Course not. I'm still gonna look after you, though," Spencer says.

He takes you home in a borrowed work SUV. You're not sick enough to need carrying, but the moment he sits you down on the couch you fall into a deep, sweaty sleep. When you wake a little later, it's to three extremely important things; the first, a bowl of chicken soup with fresh made croutons; the second, Spencer, his top button undone and smiling as he squeezes your lax hand; and third, your saviour, a jumbo box of Tylenol, sleep aid and decongestants included. You remind yourself to kiss Spencer's cheek when you aren't totally dying.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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bohbee · 1 year

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Brothers reacting to MC getting hit!

Warnings: Blood, Hitting, Ass smacking, Manhandling, aggression, yelling.

Notes: This isn't proofread lmao

Part 2

Masterlist

Lucifer

Lucifers eyes glared at the group in RAD. His legs marched over to the commotion, and his crimson gaze landed on a succubus yelling at.... MC? He let out a heavy sigh and started raking through the crowd of demoms. Until a piercing sound of skin being hit rang through his ears. He looked back up only to find you on the floor, a gash on your lip, a large handprint painting your cheek. That's all it took for his demon form to emerge. The dark aura immediately caused everyone to disperse. Before the succubus could do any more, his hand grabbed their wrist tightly. "Go to Lord Diavolos office, I am sure he would love to learn about what I just saw." His voice was cold and intimidating. "If you attempt to run away, I will find you. You should know what that means." The succubus nodded and ran off to the Lords office. Lucifer kneeled down to your body, carefully grabbing it. "Let's go home."

His fingers delicately cleaned the wound on your lip, "You don't need to tell me anything. Just.... you need to stay near someone at all times, I'm serious, MC, something much worse could've happened." His voice sounded like he was scolding you in which he was, but he was mainly worried. "I know, Luci, I'm sorry." You said softly, and you wrapped your arms around his body carefully. "Thank you for everything." His heart tugged tightly in his chest, and he reciprocated the hug. "Of course, dear."

He softly kissed your forehead, "I don't understand how a human could place these feelings in me." He admitted, pulling you down into his grasp as he flopped on his bed. "Not just any human, your human." His chest swelled with intense pride in that moment, "You have never been more correct."

(Bonus: Diavolo sat happily in his office, writing away on a game week idea for RAD. Until his doors swung open, a pink haired succubus sobbing, he immediately got up to assess the situation but was stopped by Barbatos. "You may take a seat." The butler said to the succubus, she shuddered in fear, and sat in the far corner.

An hour went by, and Diavolo excused himself to answer Lucifers call. Only to return back to the room after a minute, his face enraged. "So." He started off deeply staring into the succubus eyes. "You think you can touch my exchange student?"

Poor pink haired girl)

Mammon

Mammon had invited you out to 'shop' with him, in which you, of course, agreed. Now, the two of you were in a crystal shop. "Hey, this one says prevents lava horse attacks. What kind of crystal does that?!" You asked, amazed at what the small crystal could do. Mammons eyes turned towards the gem in your hand, "Hey! There's one over there matching it perfectly. Stay here. I'll grab it." He said quickly, his body marched over to the other side of the store searching for the similar crystal.

You continued to look at the items around until you heard commotion, "Oi! I ain't stealin' anything. I'm just looking!" Mammons voice rang out. Most of the time, you'd think he was lying, but he literally just told you what he was doing. You walked over carefully, attempting to pull your dear crush from the situation. You reached for Mammons' hand "Lets-" your voice was cut off by a heavy hand slapping your arm away. The greedy demons eyes darkened as he turned into his demon form, growling, grabbing the owners arm.

"Who the hell do you think you are touching my human?" His grip got tighter, his sharp nails digging into the whimpering demon. "Never again." Was all he said before walking out, you in his arms. He grabbed a shit ton expensive crystals on the way out shoving them in his bag, not caring about the consequences. He pulled you to a bench, carefully sitting you down. His eyes immediately peered at your slightly bruised arm. "C'mon human, I could've handled it, y'know?" He said softly, "Let's go to the house, I'll take care of ya, not that I want to or anything..... just that y'know, humans are weak, and I'm your first!"

The two of you sat on your bed, his soft hands holding the ice pack on your arm. "Heh, remember the first time this happened." He said, laughing at the memory. "Yeah... you said to only come to you for help......" His eyes glistened at you, amazed at you remembering his words, "Thank you for helping me, Mams." You smiled softly at him, your lips softly pressed on his. "Oi- y-you can't just do that! B-but of course, the Great Mammon would help my human!" The two of you reminisced on moments the whole night before falling asleep in each other's arms.

(Bonus: Lucifer knocked on the door. After not getting a response, he opened it. He was shocked to see his younger brother cradling your body, even more so when he saw the expensive crystals lying around. "Mammon, why are there -" the eldest whispered in a scolding tone. "He hit them. I took his shit." The white-haired demon interrupted his older brother, in which he only nodded. "Text me the name of the place." He whispered yet again before walking towards the door, "Also, breakfast is ready." Lucifer left the room. Before walking to the dining room, he let a small smile grace his face. 'He finally found his person, the older brother thought.)

Leviathan

You sat with your boyfriend at a game convention in the human realm. It wasn't often that the two of you went on dates, but this was surely an exception. Your eyes fluttered to the screen, Leviathan once again beating a renowned gamer of the human realm. The human grew heated and threw the remote down, "Cheater!" He yelled out, causing both you and Levi to jump slightly.

"Huh?!?!" He said, placing down the controller. The dude placed his fingers in Leviathans face "fuckin' weeb, you think you're so clever cheating in front of the whole convention." His voice was filled with anger, definitely a sore loser. Your boyfriend scoffed, "As if I would ever cheat. A normie like you wouldn't understand the true art of video games!" He huffed, out, cleary annoyed at the accusations.

"Don't fucking speak to me like that." He spat at the purple-haired demon, pushing his shoulder slightly. A crowd formed around the three of you, "Don't fucking touch him!" You exclaimed, pushing the disgusting person back, gaining both of the male's attention. Before anyone could split up the fight, the males hand met your face, causing everyone to freeze in place. Leviathan sprung up, landing a solid punch on the dudes face, "Lotan will be visiting." He said before pulling you up, running outside the convention, and going to your hotel room.

His eyes scanned yours. "S-stupid normies," he muttered, his hands strictly staying at his sides. Fearful of touching you. You chucked softly at him, grabbing his hand, which shook slightly. "Thank you for protecting me, my Player #1!" His purple-orange irises widened. "Y-you did it first. I can't believe he put his filthy hands on you... now we can't enjoy our time. here." His voice was slightly shakey, his hands gripping yours tighter. "It's okay, Levi, we will go back tomorrow in our cosplay, alright?" A large smile and blush painted his face "y-yeah"

(Bonus: the two of you sat in the hotel room quietly, Levi was placing on his Ruri wig as you put on the taco mask. He made his way over to you, smiling heavily. No one had ever accepted him like you did. It truly made him feel special. "M-mc." He muttered, catching your attention. You hummed in response, "Could you..... close your eyes for me?" He asked quietly, and you smiled softly and closed your eyes. The mask on your face slightly lifted, slightly chapped lips placing themselves on your own. You opened your eyes in shock, only for a flash of Leviathan to run into the restroom.)

Satan

You and Satan sat in the Cat Café, reading books while cats cuddled into the two of you. "Ah, I'm going to use the restroom, alright Tannie?" He smiled softly at the nickname and nodded, not lifting his eyes from the page. A few minutes went by, and your body then left the restroom. Slowly walking over to your Fiancé, but a male sat in your seat flirting to a very irritated Satan. You walked over, cautiously staring at the situation at hand.

You huffed slightly, causing the male to stare at you disgusted. You grabbed a chair from another table and moved it towards Satan. However, the extra male slapped your hand. "Don't you see I'M talking to him!" His hand then gripped yours tightly, you went to go look for help from Satan but he was gone.

Suddenly, a loud crash was heard, the grip on your hand letting go. You turned your eyes to the person, only to see the blonde demon staring into his soul. True Wrath filling the room, somehow the cats aren't fazed. "Never. Touch. Them. Again." He said deeply, causing the male to cry out in fear, "Run. If I find you, you will be tortured." The male ran off from Satan's aura.

Your Fiancé sighed heavily, sitting back down. He motioned you to join him, in which you did. His hands softly grabbed your wrist, assessing the bruises slowly forming. "I will find him." He muttered lowly, causing you to sweat drop. "But.... I will not let this ruin our date." He requested some ice from the store along with a cat drink and kitten cookie for the two of you to share.

(Bonus: Satan came back to his room after the date. He laid you in his chest, softly kissing your sleeping head before he went shopping on his DDD for some book. 'The Art of Torture'......... '101 of Dignity Breaking'........ 'Soul Shattering Spells'....... he smiled softly as he ordered the books. He then opened the devilgram and looked up the page of the demon. Satan knew exactly who he was. Now, he just had to let him believe he truly got away.)

Asmodeus

The night was loud, Asmo had dragged you out to a new bar in town. He was exceptionally happy that you agreed to go with him. Currently, he was on the dance floor as you watched from aside him, giggling softly. You took another sip of your drink, and two people walked over and sat beside you. You looked at the time on your DDD, shit it was getting late. You huffed out and got up, going to grab your best friend. Only to be stopped by the two people "Some kind of fucking problem? We sat here, and you immediately left?!" The male shouted, you shook your head swiftly, "No- I just needed to go get someone."

He scoffed at you, his grip tightening on your arm, causing you to wince. "Pathetic human, its a shame they let such trash enter here." He spat at you, the female beside him giggling away. You looked in the direction of Asmo only for his back to face you. The male pulled you closer, "Humans are weak, right?" He asked the woman beside him, and she nodded and smiled.

You went to go pull away only for the male to smack your face. His hand then held your chin tightly, tears pricking your eyes. "HEY!" A loud voice rang out causing the male to look in annoyance, only for his demeanor to change "Ah! The renowned Asmodeus, care to join us in.... taking care of this pathetic thing.." He smirked slyly, Asmo quickly used his charm on him.

"Sit." The Strawberry Blonde said, his voice filled with hurt and anger. Your body tumbled backward as the larger male let go, only for the demon of lust to catch you. "The person who you call pathetic is the love of my life." He spat out at both demons, both affected by his charm. "Now, both of you, go out into the depths of the damned and never come back." He huffed out as soon as they left, "Hon, oh deary, I'm so sorry, let's go home."

He pulled you in his bathroom, carefully sitting you down on his bath. "Your beautiful skin, I am so sorry I left you, Hon. Truly, how could I ever repay you." He placed some cream on your face, which numbed the pain quickly. "It's alright, Asmo. I got you know. Heh, the love of your life~" you teased. The male-only nodded, causing you to blush heavily. "I meant what I said, MC"

(Bonus: After the two of you took care of your wounds, he led you to his bed. He apologized multiple times over the night, horrified at your bruises. However, he made it up by kissing you. Both of you made it official to the brothers the next day. Then the two of you had to explain the bruises......... that didn't sit well.)

Beelzebub

You sat in Café Lament, waiting for Beel to come back with the hoard of food. You took a sip of Bufo Egg Milk Tea. Your eyes locked on the orange head, who started to walk over, his arms filled with food. He settled the snacks down and sat on the chair. Only to sigh heavily, "I forgot the forks, hold on, I'll be back." He said, but you quickly grabbed his hand. "I got it, love. Don't worry. Go ahead and eat." He smiled a large smile before shoving his face with food, muttering a thank you.

You walked up to the grab section and grabbed many bamboo ware, preparing them to break in Beelz grasp. "Hey, hot stuff," someone said beside you. You shuffled your eyes to their body. Your brain grimaced at his appearance. He was obviously a sex crazed creep, trying to get you as his next prize. You gave a soft smile and went to walk towards Beel. Who had his eyes on you the whole time. As you walked, a sharp pain was shot through your ass, causing you to drop the bamboo ware. You whipped your head back only to find the man floored by Beel.

It was shocking, The Avatar of Gluttony was by NO means violent. So seeing him in such a fit of rage made your heart stop being for a second. "Leave." He said to the male, who scurried out of the Café. Everyone went back to their own business, Beel then turned his attention to you. "Are you okay, MC?" He asked softly, his arms wrapping around you. You nodded and hugged him back. "Let's go eat, Beely." He smiled again and pulled you to sit with him. Your body plopped into his lap, your ass still stinging a little. "Here I'll feed you." He mumbled with his mouth already full.

(Bonus: the two of you laid in the common room, Belphie taking up the other couch. "MC, I'm sorry he assaulted you like that." He mumbled to you. His eyes were saddened as he looked at you. "My Beel, you protected me! Stop saying it as if you did it." You giggled and kissed his lips. You looked back at the fireplace only to jump when an angry Belphie was in face. "Explain." He said. this was gonna be a long night.)

Belphegor

The two of you were dozing off in class. He was your seat partner, so it was quite difficult not to get affected by his drowsiness. Your head once again bounced while doing the work. There was a sub today, so the teacher just gave paper assignments. The bell rang loudly, causing you to jump. You softly shook Belphegors' shoulders, "Hmm?" He mumbled, causing you to smile. "C'mon, sleepyhead, it's time to go home." He nodded and slowly gathered his stuff.

You went to go walk out with Belph but was stopped by the substitute, "MC. Correct?" She said, annoyed, both you and the youngest brother turned around, "Ah yes, that's me." You mumbled, waiting for her to respond. "I need to have a word with you." She said, Belphie looked at you with hesitant eyes but walked to the door, "I'll be out here." He said.

The substitute glared at you as soon as the door closed. "You are so disrespectful." She spat at you, her body getting into your personal space. "Ah- I do apologize ma'am I am unsure of what you're talking about." She scoffed at you, her finger pointed in your face, "Sleeping while working! A disgusting human like you should know better!" You groaned heavily at her words, this again, each time someone new came to the school they thought they could speak to you however they wanted.

Your groan seemed to have pissed her off cause as soon as it left your lips, she slapped you and pushed you into a desk. The door flung open, and an infuriated Belphegor in his demon form stood in front of the substitute. He grabbed their jaw tightly, his nails digging into her skin. "Isn't so nice now, is it?!" He said with a malice filled grin, the woman shuttered in fear as she dropped to her knees. Belphie knelt down and whispered something in her ear before quickly grabbing you and rushing to the HOL.

He pulled you into the attic and huffed heavily, opening the mini fridge and grabbing some ice packs. He placed you on the bed and carefully handed you them. "I'm sorry, MC, I know it's annoying to always be looked down upon." He muttered. He carefully laid his body on yours after you settled the ice on your body. He whispered something, and suddenly intense relaxation hit you. He would do this whenever you were stressed or hurt. You closed your heavy eyes, Belphie sighed softly and kissed your shoulder before joining you to sleep.

(Bonus: Lucifer looked at his DDD, bewilderment hitting his face. It wasn't often that his youngest brother texted him, so he immediately opened it. His face grimaced at the message. It was an image of a dark bruise that was on your shoulder. 'What happened?' Lucifer typed. 'Substitute lost their shit on them, I messaged you this in defense, I gave them a heavy sleeping spell.' The eldest brother sighed out, of course. He would usually be mad, but this was proper punishment. 'No worries, good choice,' he texted back before closing his phone. "I'm gonna need to teach these demons a damn lesson.")

#obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #mammon x reader #lucifer x reader #asmodeus x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader

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mimimui · 10 months

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genshin boys when you're sick

includes: albedo, childe, scaramouche, tighnari

tags: established relationship, fluff, endearments, teasing from scaramouche, scara has an anemo vision here

a/n: I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO FOR SCARA + it was only supposed to be hcs but i got carried away :') tmi i should be bedridden rn so idk how i'm still able to write this .. enjoy !

"(y/n)," albedo calls out, moving from his desk to your bedside. it's been a while since you stepped foot in dragonspine, so the effects its weather had on you wasn't surprising. "are you feeling better?" he asks, to which you reply with a painful cough.

albedo sighs worriedly, bringing his hand to your forehead to assess your body temperature. "i can't let you stay at my tent, your temperature won't go down here," he says, thinking of ways to bring you back to mondstadt. you're wrapped up in his coat, shivering from the cold.

"bedo, i'm fine," you say weakly to reassure him. "we can walk down dragonspine, i just need to wear more layers." you sit up from the bed, but then your spliting headache makes you wince. "ow..." you complain, and albedo is quick to wrap his arms around you.

"my love, i'll ask for knights to pick you up from here." albedo rubs your back gently, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. his comfort doesn't take away the pain of your headache, but it's reassuring. "thank you, bedo," you say softly.

"i'll take care of you while they get here. get well soon, my love."

childe is instantly worried about you when teucer tells him you've been in bed all day. he opens the door to his bedroom to see you wrapped in a mountain of blankets. usually, he'd find it cute, but he has a feeling you're sick.

"darling, i'm home," he says, pulling the blankets down to see you sniffling underneath. he regrets answering to his mission when he sees you sick. "(y/n), i'm sorry, i shouldn't have left you alone." childe quickly damps a towel with cool water, placing it on your forehead gently.

"it's okay, ajax, you didn't know." you hold his hand and smile weakly at him. his pouting face easily makes you laugh, but your happiness is short-lived as you sneeze again, which makes childe squeeze your hand. "i can go to the pharmacy to get you medicine, but i don't want to leave you alone again..."

"i'll be fine, you can head out to the pharmacy."

"maybe i can ask tonia to head out for me-"

"ajax." he laughs at your suddenly stern tone, saying he was just joking.

"i'll be back, darling. wait for me, will you?"

constant 'i told you so's flood your ears as you watch scaramouche wring your jacket before hanging it on a branch. you two were casually out on a walk when it began to rain. this didn't stop you, however, as you cheerfully ran around.

scaramouche took protection from under a tree, scoffing as he sees you enjoying the rainfall. the rain has since then stopped, and now your sopping, sneezing, body sits next to his legs. "i told you the rain would make you sick."

"i know, you've told me like, 20 times now." you cross your arms as you sneeze again, earning a loud sigh from scaramouche. he finally sits down, but you don't look at him, as you sneeze once more in the other direction.

his constant scolding was getting a bit irritating until you felt a gust of wind coming from beside you. you turn to look at scaramouche, whose head was facing the other way. his hand was producing a constant source of anemo, which was slowly drying your clothes.

"you always play in the rain and get sick and guess whose liability you become? mine!"

"i'm sorry..." "ha? why are you sorry? anyway,"

lucky for you, tighnari is the best at taking care of others when they're sick. he knows exactly what medicine they need and how much rest they should get. "stay in bed, dearest, you're still sick." one problem: he doesn't let you do anything.

even if it's just a small cough or cold, he's quick to make sure you stay in bed. he always makes sure to stay with you though, so it's not all that bad. when he has to go out, he asks collei to watch you for him. of course collei is worried about you as well, but she at least lets you have a little more freedom.

"don't tell tighnari you let me go out, okay?" you and collei went for a stroll just outside your hut, the nice breeze being easy to breath in. "i won't (y/n)," she whispers, not wanting to get caught by the other forest rangers who don't know you're out of bed.

as you and collei enjoy your stroll, you hear a familiar voice in the distance, and a shiver runs down your spine. "..collei, i have to run," you tell her, and she nods her head. tighnari got back earlier than you thought, and he caught you both outside the hut. "(y/n)! hey!"

you run, or rather, jog, away from tighnari as he (slowly) chases you. you laugh as you playfully scream, the other forest rangers admiring the sight of the two of you playing cat and mice. when he finally catches up to you, he grabs your wrist and drags you back to your hut. "nari, i just wanted to go for walk."

"i know, but as your caretaker, it's my job to look after you. get better first, and then we can walk all you want."

thanks for reading (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

#genshin x reader #albedo x reader #childe x reader #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #tighnari x reader

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sl33paholics · 5 months

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Baki's Reaction To Your Ex Trying To Get You Back Headcanons! (and a mini story ig)

Uhm.....it's 6am as I write this and I'm giggling my ass off

To say that Baki would come up and beat the shit out of your ex on the spot right in front of you and others is an understatement.

Baki is more of a quiet observator. Rather than confrontational, Baki might choose to observe your ex from a distance, assessing the encounter with a calm demeanor, possibly seeing it as an opportunity to reaffirm your commitment.

Baki's not an idiot. He can choose to downplay the situation, opting not to give your ex's attempt much attention, focusing instead on maintaining the positive dynamics of your relationship.

Known for his actions more than words, Baki might subtly intensify his efforts to show affection and support, reinforcing Baki's commitment through deeds rather than direct confrontation.

Baki knows how much you love to post yourself on social media. The latest fits, shoes, or with your friends. He's aware that your ex still follows you, even though you unfollowed him many, many months ago. Expect Baki to always hype you up in the comments under your posts on Instagram by spamming hearts and down-bad shit as well, he's most likely getting pinned every time.

Hell, if you're not posting yourself, you're sharing photos of the two of you on dates and random shit. Such as the you two at the gym. Baki's arms always wrapped around your shoulders or his hands gripping your hips. Baki can tell your ex is salty, he stalks his story on an alt account, LOL!

Sometimes, Baki could sense how annoyed and bothered you are whenever you'd see accounts named "shien_giveaway_6997" viewing your story. It's so obvious! Baki values honesty, and he'd engage in an open conversation with you about the situation, discussing any concerns or insecurities. Baki doesn't want a pretty woman like you stressing out over a man who couldn't keep his dick in his pants.

If you don't want to speak to him about the whole situation, Baki could respond with affectionate gesture, like a surprise date or a thoughtful gift, to reaffirm his commitment and show that he values and appreciates you. He could even use humor and make jokes about your ex's attempts to diffuse the tension.

However, it could only be so long until the man could entertain your ex before he was going to be pushed off the edge.

Baki could opt for a straightforward conversation, expressing his feelings and concerns calmly while speaking to the man via text message or phone. While not confrontational, Baki gives off a subtle warning vibe, a non-verbal cue that communicates the depth of his commitment and suggests that attempting to disrupt the relationship won't be taken lightly.

This could go two ways. 1) Your ex could simply back off and respect your wishes that your current relationship holds. Or 2) your ex could simply be cocky, shouting at him over the phone, insulting him to insert dominance, and other things to Baki as he's just there sitting silently listening to him yap yap yap yap yap yap yap -

It just so happens that Baki and your ex stumbled across each other while in the city.

Guess you can see where this is going.

Seeing Baki's size, your ex laughed and berated him. How can a man his height cuff YOU up? He couldn't believe it. How low were your expectations? He was tall and built. Baki? Sure. He was ripped but SHORT.

"I don't have time for this," Baki simply said, making your ex raise a brow in confusion. "(Y/N) is waiting for me, I can't have my love waiting." Baki walked past the taller figure, his hands in his pockets. He stopped once your ex pulled on his shirt, tugging and pulling Baki back.

"A short boy like you can't do shit!" Your ex would spat. The smell of cigarettes reeked and made Baki want to cough in his face. "Suddenly coming 'round and stealin' MY girl away from me?! I should punch you in your shit-"

It's safe to say that Baki hit this man with a two-piece combo. A slap and a roundhouse kick sent that man straight to sleep on the sidewalk. Baki stared at the unconscious man before sighing. Continuing his journey towards your place.

Hours later, your phone begins to blow up from your friends of the picture of your ex on the sidewalk earlier that day. You confronted Baki only for him to pout and say, "He ruined my shirt :("

You couldn't be mad at him. At least your ex knew not to fuck with you and your boyfriend anymore.

#anime #black writers #female writers #poc writer #black reader #x black reader #fluff #baki #baki smut #baki son of ogre #baki hanma #baki the grappler #headcanon prompts #headcanon #jack hanma #yujiro hanma #kaoru hanayama #crack fic #baki headcanons

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astrophileous · 6 months

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HI! i love your works and writing so much!! 🩷can i make a request for spencer x fem!reader, where spencer sees reader play with children (whether it be henry or a different child) and gets turned on? later, smut with a breeding kink?🩷 FEEL FREE TO IGNORE IF YOU DONT WANT TO DO IT🫶

OKAY BUT A DISCLAIMER FIRST: smut is so fucking hard to write ISTG!!!! It took me far too long a time to finish this and now I might have just acquired a newfound level of respect for any fic writers out there who regularly whip out smut in every fic. With that said, I hope you bear with me bcs I'm new and generally inexperienced in writing smut, so I hope this is to your liking 😭😭😭 ty for the request and waiting so patiently!! ❤️

Warning(s): fem!reader, 18+ smut content minors dni, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), breeding kink, praise kink (?), talks of impregnation, profanities, this is just porn without plot tbh

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"What's going on with you?" you asked as soon as the front door was shut behind your back.

Spencer turned around at your question. "What? Nothing's going on with me."

"Don't lie, Spencer. You've been awfully quiet since we left JJ's house." Your statement drove Spencer to tear his gaze away, but before he could take another step, you had seemingly transported right in front of him. "Talk to me. What's going on? Did something happen?"

"Nothing happened, sweetheart. Just forget it, okay?"

"No, I wanna know. Tell me."

Spencer's jaw clenched at your display of persistence. You didn't miss the way his eyes turned a few shades darker as he pinned you with his relentless stare.

"You really wanna know?" Spencer murmured.

Before you could give him a verbal answer, your fiancé suddenly pushed himself forward, trapping your body with his as your back collided against the wall. You gasped at his proximity. The atmosphere quickly shifted as you felt Spencer trailing his nose against the length of your neck.

"You wanna know what's going on? The truth is, I've been going insane," Spencer admitted against your ear. "You're driving me insane."

"Spencer, what are you talking about?"

Against what you thought was possible, Spencer propelled himself further into you, to the point where the air you breathed out became the same one he inhaled. Spencer's knee shoved itself between the apex of your thighs, making you gasp from the unexpected friction that his movement caused.

"I watched you back at JJ's. The way you acted around Henry? I can't stop thinking about it, sweetheart. It's driving me crazy."

"What?" An involuntary gasp slipped past your lips when Spencer's teeth lightly grazed your pulse point. "What are you—"

"I want us to have a baby."

The shock you felt was undoubtedly written all over your face. Spencer pulled back just the tiniest bit so he could stare right into your eyes. The gentleness in his pupils contradicted the desperation found in all of the ministrastions he pulled so far.

"I know when we talked about it in the past, it always seemed like such a distant thing. But after seeing you today—how you doted on Henry? I can't help it, sweetheart." Spencer's fingers strayed towards your cheek, tracing an invisible line until his touch met your jaw. "I want to have a family with you, and I want it to happen sooner rather than later. You own my forever, angel. There's no doubt in my mind that you'll become as amazing a mother just as you are a person."

The admission rendered you speechless. Time arrived into a screeching halt where it stayed there for seemingly thousands of years. Spencer was assessing you with worry in the consequent silence, trying to solve the cipher in your countenance that could give him a clue to what you were thinking.

Just as he was about to call out your name, you lunged forward out of the blue, claiming his lips in an earth-shattering kiss.

The two of you molded into one another like a pair of fitted puzzle pieces. Fire was raging inside your chest when you pulled away, first telltale signs of arousal stirring in the pit of your stomach.

"I wanna have a baby with you, Spencer. Please, I love you so much."

Spencer groaned wholeheartedly at the confession before diving back to kiss you even more fervently than before. Amidst the roaming hands and pleasurable gasps, the two of you somehow managed to stumble into the bedroom you had shared together for the past couple of years. Shed clothes littered the entire path you trudged, and in the blink of an eye, you found yourself naked on the bed with Spencer hovering above you clad in only his boxers.

"You're so beautiful," Spencer mused before taking one of your nipples in his explorative mouth. You writhed in pleasure while his fingers toyed with your other breast, making sure that no inch of your beauty escaped his attention. "Can't wait to see these full of milk, sweetheart. You'd look so beautiful pregnant with my baby."

You could only mewl when Spencer's lips trailed further southward, peppering kisses beneath your navel, just a sliver to where you needed him the most.

"Spencer, please. Ah. Don't tease."

Your fiancé chuckled at the desperation he heard in your voice. If it were any other day, he would have taken the time to edge you even further for the next few hours. But Spencer could feel his boxers getting tighter by the minute, and not wanting to prolong it any further, he slid downward until he was met with the view of your glistening folds.

"Fuck. So wet and gorgeous. Wish you could see how pretty you look, angel."

The moment Spencer's mouth touched your most sensitive part, you were gone for. His tongue lapped your juices like he was a man lost in a dessert while you were his oasis. The moans fled your throat when his lips wrapped around your taut clit, sucking and circling it with his tongue until you thrashed around uncontrollably. He then used his left forearm to pin your torso down, while his other hand started prodding the entrance to your heat.

"Oh my god, Spencer—mmphh," you whined when two of Spencer's fingers were snugly sheathed inside of you, going in and out until the whole room was overpowered by the obscene sound of your squelching wetness.

"You're so wet, angel. Holy shit," Spencer marveled as he fixated onto the movements of his fingers inside of you, the digits shining from your arousal that coated them. "So warm and tight, too. This all for me?"

"For you, Spencer, only for—oh, only for you. Feels so, mmhh, so good."

Spencer knew you were getting close from how tightly your walls were gripping his fingers, along with the way you were grinding your hips against his hand as if trying to amplify the pleasure you were reeling from. But right before the coil in your belly snapped, Spencer promptly removed his hand from your heat, making you whimpered in protest from the loss of contact.

"Patience, angel," Spencer said, leaning down to give you a quick kiss. "I want to be inside you and feel you around me as you cum."

He made quick work in removing his boxers, revealing his erection that was already red and leaking pre-cum on the tip. Spencer hissed when he gave himself a few lazy tugs, aware of your burning stare as you watched him with a raging want.

"Ready, sweetheart?" Spencer asked, waiting for your nod before sliding his tip in. You moaned into his neck until the entire length of his cock was snugged inside, clutching Spencer for dear life as the man cursed against your cheek. "You feel so good around me. Fuck. You alright, angel?"

You could only nod meekly in response. "Need you to move, Spence. Please, move."

Spencer didn't need to be told twice. He drew his hips back until the only thing engulfed by your pulsating walls was his tip, before ramming back into you with enough force to knock the breath out of your lungs.

In no time at all, your fiancé was moving in and out of you vigorously. The lewd sound of skin against skin echoed within the four walls of your bedroom, fueling your desire until your whole being was consumed by everything Spencer. You swore you could almost feel every ridge and vein of Spencer's cock as it slid in and out of your weeping hole, but your hazy brain would argue that it was plainly your lust talking.

"Spencer." His name came out as a gasp as you felt the imminent climax rising higher and higher. "I'm so—ah, s-so close. Please, please, please, I need to—"

"I know, sweetheart. I know you are. Can feel you squeezing around me. Shit. Milking me so good, hm? Gonna milk me, angel? Gonna milk my cock dry?"

You couldn't think of any other reply to Spencer's crude words except to moan even louder.

"I'm close, too, sweetheart. Fuck. I love being inside you like this. 'M gonna cum so much, gonna have my seed so deep inside you until your womb is filled to the brim."

Your walls fluttered at the thought of being full of Spencer's cum, and this little knowledge didn't evade your fiancé's notice as he picked up the pace of his thrusts.

"You like that, huh? Like the thought of my cum in your womb? Can't wait until you're all big and round, sweetheart. You're gonna make such a beautiful mommy."

"Wanna be a mommy, Spencer, I wanna have your baby!"

"Yeah? You want that? Wanna be pregnant with my baby and make me a daddy? Have a part of me inside of you, huh? Shit. Can picture it now, sweetheart. You'll look so gorgeous pregnant. Most beautiful mommy in the world."

Spencer's hips stuttered slightly. The mental image of you pregnant and barefoot, walking around your shared home carrying his child was doing abominable things to every neuron in his brain. That thought alone, along with the way your pussy was getting tighter around him by the second, was inevitably going to push him over the edge.

Without ever abating his pace, Spencer's fingers reached down towards your clit and started rubbing as if there was no tomorrow. You let out a scream at the added sense of pleasure that Spencer's fingers sent to your belly.

"That's it, angel. Just let it go for me. Let go and I'll give you every drop of my cum."

Another powerful thrust, coupled with a delicious stimulation to your bundle of nerves, had you cumming around Spencer's cock like you had never been before. It was one of the most intense orgasms of your life, and you couldn't do anything but wail and moan as Spencer continued to move inside you through it all.

Mere seconds later, Spencer's own undoing crashed into him like a truck. You felt his cock throb before warmth flooded in, spurts of cum painting every inch of your walls until Spencer was sure there was nothing else to empty. He collapsed on top of you as soon as he was done pulling out, panting breaths and a satiated smile as he buried his face in the column of your neck.

"So—" you began once your breathing had evened out, "—we're doing this, huh?"

Spencer looked up at your face. "Are you having second thoughts?"

"No. Definitely not. There's no one I'd rather do this with more than you, Spencer." You smiled, tucking a strand of your fiancé's overgrown curly hair behind his ear. "Although, I do have to say, I didn't expect you to be that type of guy."

"What type of guy?"

"The kind who gets territorial and borderline obsessed with the thought of impregnating their woman."

Your statement caused Spencer to laugh, crinkling eyes and head thrown back in a way that made your heart fall a little deeper for the man. You closed your eyes and sighed when his hand rose to cup your cheek.

"Can't help it, sweetheart. Any guy would be driven wild to have you as the mother of their child. I'm the luckiest guy in the world."

Spencer's proclamation was sealed with a kiss to your lips. It started out innocent enough before escalating in desperation with every minute that ticked by. Spencer swallowed all of your whimpers even when his hand started to meander downward, all the way past your abdomen, and right under your navel where your arousal was beginning to awaken once again.

At the first swipe of thumb on your clit, you gasped against his lips.

"Spence, what are you—"

"Sshh, we're far from finished, sweetheart. Didn't think I'd be done with you so quickly, did you?" Spencer smirked. "I'm gonna keep fucking you through the night, however long it takes, and fill you with loads after loads of my cum to make sure you are pregnant once this is all over. Now, you just lie back, angel. 'M gonna make you feel so fucking good."

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ladytabletop · 6 months

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Lady Tabletop's Primer for Getting into Tabletop Roleplaying Game Design Philosophy

Sam Dunnewold over at the Dice Exploder podcast has posed a fun question to his discord server: where would you tell people to start if they wanted to know more about TTRPGs and design?

First and foremost, I'd tell people to start with @jdragsky's article about Systems of Relation.

With the benefit of hindsight, I can now understand that the games we played on the playground were identical in nature to the tabletop RPGs I would grow up to play and help design.

Next, check out Thomas Manuel's analysis of the Axes of Game Design over on the Indie RPG Newsletter.

So the basic exercise is trying to figure out the standard axes or spectrums on which every game can fit. The idea is for these axes to be as descriptive and objective as possible.

Thirdly (and lastly for the purposes of this blog - it's entry-level, not comprehensive), check out this reddit thread about lonely fun.

The Lonely Fun is all of the stuff you do as a part of your hobby away from the table, in any way you might engage. For D&D 5e players, this is usually building complicated and elaborate characters on the page, pouring over the books for new races and subclasses, figuring out fun new combinations, and carefully crafting characters.

Read those? Now check out BALIKBAYAN: Returning Home by @temporalhiccup

Will we be able to outrun our Masters and those who hunt us down? Can we use our magic to bring about the rebirth of the city and all Elementals? ill this be our RECKONING or our HOMECOMING? That’s what we play to find out.

Why I make these particular recommendations below the cut.

All of these recommendations are hopefully all entry-level. I tried to stay away from any essays, blogs, or articles that reference game movements you may not have heard of or that require tons of reading before you can even read my recommendations. Some do have links to other stuff, and if you're enjoying the writing, definitely go down those rabbit holes! These are a tiny, tiny portion of my "TTRPG Homework" folder where I save essays, podcasts, etc that have helped me in my own game design journey. I'm always happy to share more, just ask!

The essay on Systems of Relation put into words something I had been thinking about the more I got into indie games/design: I've been playing my whole life, and ttrpgs are just another piece of that. I think it's crucial to break out of the framework of people trying to define play and games into neat little categories. Will I ever write a game as good as the ones I played in the backyard with my siblings? Probably not, but I'd like to find out.

Now that I've told you to stop trying to categorize games, we have an article about trying to categorize games. But I do like Thomas's assessment and examples of using game design axes. I think as designers it's important to figure out the things the game is trying to do and communicate, so that we can make sure it does those things well.

Lastly, I know 5e gets a bad rap (and it's gotten it from me, too!). But the concept of lonely fun has stuck in my craw since I first saw this thread. It's why some people prefer to GM (and therefore why GM-less games might not work for some people). Not all games are going to have lonely fun, but the ones that do are still going to appeal to people! This thread was key for me in terms of considering that no game is for everyone, and it shouldn't try to be, and also helped contextualize the enjoyment I get from the occasional high-prep game.

Balikbayan as a recommendation was a no-brainer for me. I'm not going to say it's the most elegant or tight of Rae's work, but it's the one with the most heart for me. The story this game wants you to tell is so clear, and as an introduction to "Belonging Outside Belonging" as a system/concept/design philosophy. This game really sings in its character concepts and emotional play.

If you've read this far, congratulations! I've been enjoying the DE podcast (even when I don't agree with some of the takes) and the discord has been a cool (if at times intimidating) place to hang out. I've had a hell of a game design journey this year and I'm so excited to keep learning, and to see what media other folks participating in this blog carnival recommend!

To sign off: my best advice to designers, especially those starting out can be boiled down to three things:

When in doubt, simplify or make it silly

The two cakes theory is your best friend - game design is not a competition

Not everything has to be finished. Not every part of the creative process is fun. Find the balance between these two truths (you're going to have to do that every day).

Best,

#the lady rambles

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reve-writes · 1 year

Text

—good luck; leon kennedy.

ʚ leon kennedy x reader. | resident evil | 0,8k words. ʚ leon visits you at the hospital & you kiss for the first time. ʚ friends-to-lovers. kissing. profanity. pre-re4. ʚ a/n idk why i keep writing awkward first kisses fluff fics someone help i rewrote this twice and still don't quite love it, but here it is.

It has been almost a week.

You've been spending your days within these sickeningly white and bright room, accompanied by the constant hum of air conditioner. You had a visit from your supervisor, asking for mission reports. Outside of your work, you don't have a lot of friends anyway—and the ones you have are either busy in some part of the world somewhere combating bio-terrorism or knee-deep buried in training and paperwork.

Your eyes dart to the door when you hear knocking. Your voice is hoarse when you call out, “Come in.”

It's Leon. He throws a small smile at you when he walks in.

“One of these days—” He sighs, letting the door click shut gently behind him and makes his way towards your bed, plopping onto the chair by your bedside. “—you'll come home in a body bag.”

“Wanna bet on it?”

He stares at you pointedly, taking off his wool-lined leather jacket and hanging it over the back of the chair. “Don't even.”

Your eyes fall fall onto the lines of his body. That body-tight navy shirt really accentuates the muscles that he's built up, short-sleeves putting his arms on display. You're shameless in your staring. You have to remind yourself that he's just a friend—one that you've shared most of the bad with: the blood-smeared bodies, tear-streaked faces, grief-stricken memories, and nightmare-riddled sleeps.

“I heard that you're leaving for Spain.” You distract yourself by bringing up a topic of conversation. “When is that?”

He checks his black watch briefly. “In six hours or so.”

“And you decided to spend those six hours with me? I'm honoured, Kennedy.”

“Of course.” He shrugs. “Gotta make sure you have one last good look of me before I go.”

“I appreciate it.”

“How are you feeling?”

You feel his eyes on you, assessing your injury. Leon has always had an aptitude for observation. He sees the angry purple-and-blue bruises on your neck, noticed the way you wince slightly whenever you speak a little louder. Plus, the sling for your arm is one of the first things he notices when he sees you.

“Like shit.”

“I bet you do.”

“Getting slapped around by a goddamn B.O.W does that.”

“Tell me about it.” He adds a small chuckle. “I had a talk with your mission partner before coming here.”

“Oh, no. What did you do to poor, poor Jonas?” Your eyes narrow, looking at him in an accusatory manner. “You know that this isn't his fault.”

“He left you. Just fucking ran off. What do you mean it isn't his fault?” He argues.

You sigh. “He's new, Leon. Besides, I was the one who told him to run.”

“Don't pull that self-sacrificing shit.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on the edge of your hospital bed. “I can't have you dying on me.”

“You're the one running off to god-knows-where,” you retort. “I can't have you dying on me.”

“I won't.” He gives a small lop-sided grin. “Just because you asked.”

You chuckle—or at least try to—before you wince from a sharp throb in your chest. Leon immediately stands up, his chair sliding back with a screech. He hovers over you, one hand on your shoulder and the other feeling the wall for the emergency call button.

“You okay? What's wrong?”

You nod, taking his gloved hand in yours and away from the call button. “I'm fine, you worrywart.”

When you look up to meet his eyes, suddenly the proximity between the two of you is put into perspective. His eyes—brilliant blue, gem-like—are unblinking as they are fixated on yours. You can almost feel his breath.

“We shouldn't —” you say, but your eyelashes flutter. Your heart's pounding in your chest, loud and adamant, repeatedly calling his name—the way it always does for the longest time.

His eyelids droop as he leans forward slightly. “We really shouldn't.”

“Yeah. This is a bad idea.”

“You don't think we should kiss?”

You can feel your lips brushing against his when he speaks. Featherlight grazes call for goosebumps to raise on your skin. “Well, bad ideas can lead to good outcomes someti—”

Your words are muffled, swallowed by him as his lips close over yours. You've daydreamed about this more times than you care to admit, but to actually experience it? Are you hallucinating from the meds?

“Stop thinking.” Leon huffs, biting your lower lip gently. “Just—”

Whatever he's planning to say next is lost as you once again press your lips onto his. It's a gentle kiss—he treats you as if you're made of glass, and at this point, you feel like you may actually break from your heart swelling.

Your hand reaches out to touch his hair, and you feel a sharp tug from your IV. The IV stand nearly topples over, but Leon pulls back. His reflexes are quick enough to keep the stupid metal pole from falling over.

You stare at each other—

and burst out into laughter.

“A hell of a good luck kiss,” he says, settling back down to the chair.

You bite back your smile. “There's a lot more where that came from.”

“Get better soon and we'll find out.”

[ ]

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #—ki writes 🍯

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timetravelingpenguin1066 · 1 year

Text

Hide and Seek

Dad!Aemond drabble

A/N: I cannot stop writing these. SOMEONE TAKE THE INTERNET AWAY FROM ME!

"Ready or not, here I come!"

Your husbands voice carried across the little nursery, followed by the giggles of your little daughter as she hid under a sheet on the couch.

Aemond stomped around the room like a monster from the stories he would tell before bed. You sat on the other couch, smiling at their little game.

"Where are you, little girl?" he called out. "Come on out!"

He stalked towards the chest full of Lyra's toys.

"Ah ha!" he cried as he opened the box. "Hmm," he said, on discovering the box was empty of any child. "Where are you?"

Your daughter giggled again, no doubt imagining her father stomping around.

"You know what's going to happen when I find you, hmm?" he threatened, smiling evilly.

Lyra giggled again.

Aemond looked everywhere; under the sofa, behind the doors, behind the curtains.

Then he went for the blanket lump. He stretched out a hand, feeling the lump. Lyra giggled again.

"Hmm, what's this?" he wondered aloud. "A lump? It seems very hard." He gazed thoughtfully at the 'lump'. Lyra giggled again. "Perhaps it is a stool."

Your husband slowly lowered himself as if to sit on the 'stool'. He 'sat', carefully making sure he did not put his full weight on your daughters back. She started wriggling, seeking to escape.

"Hmm, this stool is rather uncomfortable," he observed to you.

"Is it, dear husband?"

"Yes," he nodded. "It keeps wriggl-"

At that moment, Lyra rolled over to one side, dislodging her father from his position. However, her roll had shifted the blanket and revealed her.

"HA!"

Aemond leapt to keep her from escaping his clutches. "I found you, little girl!" Lyra screeched and wriggled around as her father tickled her mercilessly.

"Muña!" she laughed. "Muña he- aah!" your daughter pleaded.

"I'm not getting in that!" you chuckle.

"Kepa!" she shrieked. "Let me go!"

A particularly loud shriek from your daughter sent Ser Arryk rushing in with his sword drawn, thinking you were under attack.

Aemond stops his relentless assault to glare at the Kingsguard knight.

Assessing the situation, Arryk blushes. "My apologies, my Prince."

As he turns to leave, your husband stops him. "I would advise you to learn the difference between cries of fear and shrieks of laughter, Ser," Aemond warns.

Ser Arryk nods and leaves.

Your daughter has taken advantage of the knights intrusion to escape her father's clutches and wriggle her way onto your lap. You instinctivly put you arms around her, protectivly.

As the door shuts, your husband looks to where you hold your child and he smiles evily.

"Now," he says, "where were we?"

You sense what he is about to do just before he does it.

"Aemond," you warn, "don't you d- aah!" you yell as he pulls you off the couch and into his arms were he tickles you. His daughter allies herself with him.

You cannot even speak for laughter. You try to wrestle your daughter off you so you can defend yourself, but you are unsuccesful, and so you search for a new target.

You have an advantage your daughter doesn't know about. Everyone thinks Aemond is not ticklish in the slightest, but you know otherwise.

You allow him to tickle your sides as you reach up to tickle behind his ears.

Aemond reels back, slapping your hands away, but you still have the token of surprise. You leap on top of him, attacking his ears and neck. He struggles beneath you, but cannot throw you off. Your daughter changes sides easily.

Together, you and your daughter attack Aemond.

That is until the door opens again and Alicent walks in. You stop, the smile fading from your face.

"Mother..." Aemond says. "Ummm..."

Alicent simply looks at the three of you curiosly, before rolling her eyes and tutting.

"You were suposed to be in the council meeting, Aemond," she says, "not playing with your wife and your daughter."

Aemond gently pushes you off him and pulls his daughter tightly to his chest.

"Unfortunatly, mother, I find my daughters entertainment to be far more important thatn council meetings," he informs. "But if you insist..."

With that, your husband rose, still holding Lyra.

"Where are you going?" you ask.

"To the council meeting."

"Aemond," Alicent shouts after him as he walks down the corridor, "you can't bring you daughter to a council meeting!"

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fic #aemond targaryen #dad aemond #aemond fluff #aemond x fem!reader

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 20 days

Note

Odd question but - I'm looking to study in the UK this fall, and I'm trying to get to grips with the grading system. Could you explain the grading boundaries to me please? It's different from the US, as far as I can see!

I found this handy table which you might find useful - I don't really understand the US system either lol.

Here's what I will say though - I have many times before seen Americans online seeing the percentages for the UK grade boundaries and immediately wax lyrical about how EASY and SIMPLE it must be to do well in the UK because OH MY GOD I could tooootally get 70%!!! In the US that's barely a C!!! Wow education must be soooo simple in the UK -

And uh. I have seen very few Americans in those discussions stop and ask themselves how much harder it might be to hit 70% in the UK. Which, as the international academic office in every university will tell you, is the crucial question you absolutely should be asking. Does an American 70% look the same as a UK 70%?

(It Does Not.)

So don't be fooled by that! Over here, at undergrad the pass mark is 40%. 40-49% gets you a third; 50-59% gets you what's varyingly known as a lower second (formally), a 2:2 (most commonly), or a Desmond (by sad people. It's a reference to Desmond Tutu - two two). A 2:2 is also the most commonly awarded degree classification over here.

60-69% is a 2:1, or upper second class honours. And then the top level is the first - 70% and up. The vast majority of firsts are earned by students who got 70-79%. Exceptional work pushes into the 80s. It is incredibly rare that you ever see a mark in the 90s, and when you do, it's almost always on maths papers where there are right or wrong answers and that's it.

I can't remember how the US's summa cum laude etc stuff maps onto that, though you could probably find that on Google as well. But as a rule of thumb, think first = excellent, 2:1 = good, 2:2 = fair, and third = you need to be careful and see what you can do to improve (although that is still a pass at university and that is not to be sniffed at).

Ooh, as a final point, though, there's also how assessment works, which again, I know is very different over here (again I don't really understand it in the US). Your lecturer cannot set random work here and there to count as summative assessment. Every module is different in how it's set up, but let's give an example:

Module: Coastal and Marine Conservation Two assessments, each worth 50% of the final grade. Assessment 1: A report on the biodiversity of Ramsey Island in the Pembrokeshire Coast National Park. Explore the cause of the lower biodiversity there than nearby Skomer/Skokholm; how was this challenged/rectified? How have species recovered since? What should be done into the future? Assessment 2: A two-hour closed book exam. Half of this exam (50 marks) will be a mix of short and medium length questions; things like "Define these five terms (two marks each)", or "Describe the process of longshore drift and its impact on sedimentation patterns (15 marks)" or what have you. The second half is a 50 mark essay - pick one of three essay questions offered, and off you go. (Essay questions are a staple feature of exams over here, and multiple choice questions are extremely rare and generally frowned on as being Not Sufficiently Academic.)

Now, in the case of this module, these are the only two assessment points. Both the report brief and the exam paper are registered with the academic office in the summer before the academic year even starts, and both are triple verified - by the lecturer who writes/sets them, by an internal verifier in the department, and an external verifier from another university. This is part of quality control.

If, for some reason, you fail one of these, or cannot submit them by their due date, or what have you, you still have to do them. If you claim for Extenuating Circumstances (e.g. "I was made homeless and my cat blew up, so I couldn't do it in time") then you get an extension on it; as long as you submit by the end of the academic period, you're fine. If you don't, you need to resit it. This normally means over the summer after the main term ends.

But, in the UK system what we can't do is go "Okay never mind, how about you submit a write-up of the volunteering you're currently doing with SeaLife instead and we'll count that?" The reason being, under the UK system that is not a quality-controlled solution. That has not been checked and verified as an equivalent assessment to what the rest of the class has done; so if you do that and get a 2:1, there is no assurance that you are actually of the same academic quality as one of your peers who got a 2:1 for that research report on Ramsey's biodiversity.

Which... don't let it scare you! As I say, there are a LOT of systems that can help you if things start going wrong (always, always, always keep Student Support and your lecturers in the loop). But that is a different system from what I understand you might be used to, so heads up on that.

(I am not arguing that one is better than the other, by the way. Last time I explained a difference in the UK university system I got a very hostile and aggressive American in the notes throwing a right strop over how terrible the UK system clearly is because XYZ, right up until I had to actually say "I am literally just describing how it's different, not claiming superiority," and then they went mysteriously quiet and stopped replying. So to forestall that, I am only describing the differences. There are advantages and disadvantages to each.

The UK system is certainly more inflexible. But it does, incidentally, at least free you from the tyranny I see reported so often by US students of the dreaded Tenured Professor who deliberately as a matter of pride sets impossible exams that everyone fails. Over here, that shit Does Not Fly. So there's that.)

Anyway - hopefully that answers your question! Any others, hit me up. Good luck, and enjoy your studies!

#asks #the professional world of careers and tasks

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luveline · 6 months

Note

hi jade! if you wouldn’t mind, could i please request something and hotch with a partner who’s a little emotionally closed off? like who’s kind of blunt and off putting but around him they’re a little gentler than usual, if that makes sense? thank you!

thanks for requesting ♡

“I don't think so,” you're saying, little inflection nor emotion in your words, “I don't suppose it's very appropriate. I'm going to go now.”

Hotch hears stammering and then your footsteps, unhurried up the steps and across the landing to his office. You knock on his ajar door and wait for him to say, “Come in,” before crossing the threshold.

“Can you peer review this for me, please?” you ask.

Hotch puts his pen in the holder to look at you. He doesn't mind saying to himself that you're his sweetheart (quite enjoys it, actually) and that you look nice today, as you always do, though there's nothing in particular about you that would make it so. You're cute at a baseline. He'd tell you if you weren't at work.

He honestly still considers it. “Of course,” he says, putting out his hand. You pass the folder.

Peer review is supposed to be done by your peers, and you're past the freshness that requires them so often, but if Hotch hadn't spent as long as he did reviewing your case input, you wouldn't be as close as you are. He doesn't mind checking it over. You stand in front of his desk and set about neatening up the small mess he's made without comment.

“What's not very appropriate?” he asks finally.

“What do you mean?” you ask, turning the handle of his coffee mug toward him.

He pauses to write a comment in the margin of your work. You smile as he looks up, a small, apprehensive thing.

“A minute ago, you told someone something was inappropriate.”

“Peter asked me on a date.”

Hotch feels his eyebrows rise of their own accord. “Right.”

“He wanted to go see a concert together. Like, a rock band. He's someone's dream guy, I'm sure.”

He laughs at the accidental slight. You don't react, straightening a pen in the holder and stepping back, satisfied at a job well done. “It's not inappropriate for him to ask you on a date,” Hotch says.

He's not mad, not scolding, just making conversation. He could talk to you for hours uninterrupted, but you aren't talkative unless he prompts you.

“It's not appropriate because I'm already taken.”

“He doesn't know that.”

“I never said he did…” You glance at his door. There's no one coming up the stairs. “Can I come around?”

“Mm.” He holds out his arm, quickly finishing his assessment of your work. You round the desk and step into his touch.

“Should I have been nicer?”

“You were perfectly civil. No need for nice.” You start to relax. Your tight shoulders drop and your hand brushes his thigh as you lean in. “You okay?”

“I'm okay, Aaron. Today has felt very long,” you say, near murmuring. You turn your face toward his and close your eyes.

He pulls you in snugly to his side, giving you a moment to breathe. Outside the office, a cacophony of chatter and ringing phones sounds, but here, there's little more than the quiet huff of your breath and the brush of his thumb rubbing a small circle into your blazer.

“How are you today?” you ask, still quiet.

“I'm okay. Thinking about buying tickets to a rock concert.”

Your lips touch briefly to his shoulder. He can feel the heat of it on his skin, a memory rather than the real thing.

“Do you want to come over tonight?” he asks.

You're stopped from answering by the approach of footsteps up the stairs. You pull away and turn your gaze to his desk as Hotch picks up your folder and passes it back to you. It's completely natural, no hint of intimacy as Emily knocks the door as you'd done.

She smiles at you both. “Hi. I'm having trouble with my payslip again and human resources won't fix it until you approve the ticket.”

Hotch frowns. “That's not ideal.” What he means to say is, that's ridiculous.

You thank him for the peer review and excuse yourself. Emily touches your hand as you go, asking, “You want to get lunch with me?”

“No, you like the wrong places. You can have half of my sandwich.” Hotch knows you like being her friend, and he can't help laughing at your answer.

“The wrong places?” Emily mouths.

He can only shrug. “They're specific.”

“That's one word for it.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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cher-rei · 1 month

Note

hey could u do a comfort fic with trent alexander arnold where he’s maybe read stuff on the internet about him that are very hateful and the reader comforts him

reflection— [ T.A.A ]

but I love that man like nobody can [how to disappear- lana del rey]

pairing: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: after his injury, comments start to flood trent's mind and you want nothing more than to make sure he knows that they aren't true.

genre(s): established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

[wc: 2.3k] masterlist

notes: while I'm writing this I can't stop thinking about cody and the amount of hate he's getting because of the united match. he's human too and the fact that people are going to his instragram and commenting the most horrible things about him and telling him to leave the club genuinely hurts my heart because he's so sweet and doesn't deserve any of this. it's normal for footballers to make mistakes and they have their bad days, but putting them down isn't going to make the situation any better. we're supposed to be supporting the team and not blaming individuals for a loss </3

it's strange how the people that swear that they're a clubs supporter can switch up on players over something as minuscule as missing a goal or losing a tackle. it's the way players get dragged for making human mistakes, but because of the pedestals they're put on it adds even more pressure.

the comparing of players, telling them to leave their clubs and so much more pile up on the list of hate they get. no matter how good of a footballer you were there was always going to hate thrown your way, chipping away at your self esteem ever so slowly.

trent was headstrong, he knew who he was and hardly took harsh comments and criticism to heart. it was one of the many things you admired about your boyfriend, the way that he was able to be better and prove people wrong so effortlessly.

but he was only human after all, and it was bound to get to him at some point. it was after his first match back after injury that everything happened. he acquired the knee injury against arsenal in january, recalling the exact moment you saw him limping and biting his jersey to ease the pain.

you were in the stands obviously, worried sick but he wasn't subbed off for whatever reason. while everyone was rejoicing the win you couldn't bring yourself to forget about his knee, immediately rushing to the tunnel so you could see him.

trent swore that he was fine but you were absolutely furious that he still played the full 90 minutes instead of asking for the medics to at least check up on him. that was water undet the bridge however, and he was put off for three weeks but even then you felt that it was too little recovery time.

and you were right of course but he was eager to be on the pitch again. you couldn't pass judgement there because of course he missed playing, he felt horrible for being at home and not having any way to contributing to the teams victories. so when they gave him the green light for the match against burnley he was ecstatic.

and you were happy for him, but that didn't push your worry to the back of your mind. and then it went south when he was subbed off before half time because he wasn't playing at his best. the entire time he was on the bench he was silent, his thoughts running wild and his heart heavy with disappointment.

you were watching the match from home so you immediate reaction was to message him, his dull responses taking shots at your heart.

when he got home that evening your heart shattered seeing him look so beaten up. all he did was drop his bags and come to lay with you on the couch, his head resting on your chest while you reassured him that everything was going to be fine.

trent barely spoke a word to you until the following afternoon when he got back from his physio assessment, in an even worse state than when he left. he was limping, his head hung low and motivation to do anything at its lowest.

you knew that he just needed some time alone before you tackled the situation, so you gave him his necessary space until he was ready to talk. but then the evening came when his side of the bed was empty, and when you checked your phone you were even more surprised to see that it was only 2 a.m.

you got out of bed in panic, immediately rushing downstairs to look for trent but all the lights were off. he wasn't in the kitchen, the living room or even in the backyard. by now your thoughts were running wild, shear panic settling on your chest until you heard the front door unlock.

trent walked in, his lips pursed. "why are you awake?" he took a few steps closer to you, confusion settling on his face. "do you know what time it is?"

a dry scoff left your lips in disbelief. "I could ask you the same thing."

he went silent, not knowing what to say except apologise but you were fed up. you gave him his space and kept your worry to yourself, not wanting to make him feel any worse than he already did but your patience wore thin.

your expression hardened at the recollection of how distant he'd been the past week. "talk to me. please."

"there's nothing to talk about, I'm fine--"

"--that's absolute bullshit" your tone was harsh and it took him by surprise because you rarely raised your voice at anyone, let alone him.

he took a few weary steps closer only to see the tears walking up in your eyes. oh shit, what has he done.

"no baby why are you crying?" he asked soothingly and pulled you into his embrace, his hands gently stroking your back in comfort. his heart sunk at the few sniffles from your side, he couldn't believe that his injury had you crying.

you tightened your arms around his torso, an overwhelming feeling of hurt washing over you the more he comforted you. "because you're hurt."

he sighed. "and I'm getting better. the recovery is going well honey."

you shook your head against his chest. "I'm not talking about your knee trent." you finally pulled away to look up at him with teary eyes, which didn't make him feel any better.

"I know you read the comments, and I know that you're taking them to heart this time but--" you swallowed the bile in your throat, the mere thought of all the hurtful comments having you sick to your stomach. "--but you're not talking to me about it and it makes me feel horrible because they're not true."

trent's heart had just been shattered to pieces, his lips parted in shock because you knew him so damn well. he had been reading the comments, and at first it didn't mean much but the more they came about, the harder it was to push it aside.

honestly the worse 45 minutes anyone had played this season. trent has exited his prime and it's showing.

this is who you guys call the best right back in the league?? have you seen that match against burnley? kyle walker over this dude any day.

he was good until he wasn't. sorry not sorry.

I'm sorry what was that play?? all he had to do was keep the ball for more than 2 seconds. this guy is a joke.

nah get this man out of my club, I can't anymore.

trent my man this is burnley we're talking about. what are you doing??

he's seen it all. and for the first time in years he let the negative comments get to him even though he knew better. and now here you were, standing in front of him teary eyed in the middle of the night because he wasn't man enough to talk to you— his own damn girlfriend.

a heavy sigh disturbed the silence and that was an indicator to you that he was ready to talk. he took your hand and lead you to the couch, making sure that you were settled down comfortably in front of him.

"you know when we played city the away fans were yelling at me when I went to take the corner," he began with a half hearted laugh. "apparently I'm a shit kyle walker."

your grip tightened on his hand instinctively, but you remained silent and listened to him express his concerns and thoughts on the entire ordeal. he brushed the kyle walker thing off and said that he found it rather amusing instead of hurtful.

"but after the arsenal game when I hurt my knee something just snapped I guess. and you were so worried when I got home too so I just wanted to get better because I don't want you to panic over my injuries."

a lump formed in your throat, the tears resurfacing but trent was quick to wipe them away. "and now people are saying that I played like absolute shit against burnley," he shook his head. "which is true by the way."

this was were you grew defensive. "you just came back from injury of course you weren't going to be in the best shape trent."

his eyebrows raised for a moment, a soft chuckle leaving his lips but you didn't find it funny at all. "ever since this whole thing you've been saying my name an awful lot."

that was surprisingly true. you were upset so of course you weren't going to call him something endearing. you were upset!

you cocked you head to the side, a judgemental look on your face that trent didn't want to worsen so he carried on talking. you weren't going to bed until he had everything out.

"anyway," he chuckled. "I've just been feeling really anxious and self conscious because what if they're telling the truth you know? like okay I score goals and I play well but what if that's just me thinking that?"

his breathing had begun to pick up and you were quick to notice, and alarm going off in your mind and telling you that he was nearing tears. trent groaned in frustration and shut his eyes in attempt to push the tears back.

he bent over to put his hands on his knees to try and calm himself down before you started crying as well. your hand was running up and down his back soothingly, only for him to get back up and take refuge in your arms.

everything was finally starting to pool out, and it broke you knowing that he felt this way and hadn't spoken to you because he didn't want you to worry. the dark living room was filled with his silent sobs that you tried to ease until your own started to fall.

you shut your eyes and held trent as close to you as possible, your shirt slightly wet because of his tears. you wondered how the other players felt when something similar happened to them, if they broke down in their partners' arms as well.

it wasn't easy for them to welcome the vulnerability you assumed— especially if it were over something like hate comments. but it was difficult and they were only trying their best.

"It's okay if you cry baby. there's no need to apologise," you hushed when he said sorry. "It's normal to feel this way, you're human too and I can't tell you not to let those things get to your head but they're not true."

his silent sobs came to a subtle halt but his head remained on your shoulder as he listened to you speak so softly, telling him that everything was okay.

"you know what you're capable of so don't let anyone tell you what you can and can't do. as long as you know that you have people who support you and are rooting for you, nothing else should matter," you retorted reassuringly in hopes that it would help him realise that he didn't have to worry about things he couldn't control.

it was out of his hands, he lead the arsenal match in pain like a proper leader and that showed immense strength. instead of giving up he pulled through and made sure that the team were at their best before thinking about himself.

you put a small kiss to his temple. "I'm so proud of you. every single waking moment of every day, no matter what happens— I will always be proud of you for doing what you can."

this made trent smile when he finally got up to look at you with glossy eyes. "really?"

you nodded eagerly. "you breathe and I want to scream 'that's my boyfriend'."

that got a laugh out of him and he felt his heart strings tug. he loved you so much for standing by his side no matter what, for being patient and for just being you. he was grateful beyond comprehension and sometimes he felt that he didn't express his love for you the correct amount.

you deserved so much and here you were comforting him at the dead of night because he got insecure. his heart was overflowing just for you.

trent put his hand on your cheek and wiped away the stray tear that fell. "I'm sorry for making you worry. if I do it again just kick me out."

you laughed and his heart exploded. "oh definitely. pull a stunt like this again and I'll feed you to the wolves."

his eyes widened a fraction. "okay that's a bit too far."

you disagreed wholeheartedly and told him that it was the only correct form of punishment for the heart attacks that he gave you. "my heart broke like five times in this past week trent, so no."

he hummed and leant in for a kiss. "I'll fix it again I promise."

you felt yourself melt at the touch of his lips on yours— a tender kiss that held so much sincerity and love, an apology slipping through along with a silent I love you.

he pulled away and took a moment to look at you, drinking in every bit of your presence silently to which you hit him on the arm, a giddy smile and blush having you weak in the knees whereas he was mesmerised, not even realising that you had been trying to get his attention for a bit.

"earth to trent," you called and waved your hand in front of your face but he quickly caught it and pulled you closer to him, a yelp leaving your mouth before laughing.

"call me trent one more time and we're going to have a problem," he said through a smile but you just played along, finding it amusing.

"oh really?" your tone was playful and he wasn't having any of it. "well trent wouldn't-- ah!"

your boyfriend had you lying on the couch in a fit of giggles, him hovering over you as he tickled you but stopping every so often to litter kisses on your face which you weren't fighting at all. because everyone needed a little love, right?

#footballer imagine #fanfic #footballer x reader #trent alexander arnold fluff #football imagine #footballer x you #liverpool fc #trent alexander arnold x reader #liverpool x reader #trent alexander arnold fanfic #trent alexander arnold #liverpool football club #trent alexander arnold imagine #football #fic rec #cherrei rambles #cherrei writes #writers on tumblr #liverpoolfc x reader

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lincolndjarin · 1 month

Text

Every Now and Then - ch. two

[ And if You Only Hold Me Tight ]

pairing : joel miller x f!reader, platonicsoulmate!tommy & f!reader

word count : 9.3k

summary : you spend some time tommy, you spent some time with joel.

tags/warnings : 18+ mdni, angst, canon typical violence, language, panic attacks, violence, injury, wounds, possessive behavior, toxic relationships, animal death, i probs missed some i never know how to tag so lmk if i misses anything !!

a/n : this took so long and i dont even know it its good so i'm deeply sorry about that.

ao3 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ main masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ kofi

Now - JACKSON, WYOMING : 2023

“It’s nice to meet you Ellie.” You hold your hand out across the table to her, offering your own name up in the process, noticing an incredulous look in her eyes as you say it. Of course she doesn’t shake it, you’ve worked with enough survivors her age to know how they think.

She doesn’t trust any of this, and you can’t blame her. Every single thing she’s seen since arriving here is too good to be true, she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. That’s okay, you can be patient. She just needs to learn how to be a kid again. When she makes no attempt to move you pull your hand back, your smile never wavering. You’ve met kids in much worse condition than this, you can work with this.

“Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself, Ellie.” You set the notebook you’d been writing in back down onto the table, you don’t want this to feel like an interrogation for her, it needs to be a conversation or you won’t get any of the information you need.

“Like what?” She’s slouched down into the chair, her arms crossed across her chest. She has her defenses up, she has spent her entire life protecting herself, she isn’t going to stop just because a stranger offered her a mug of tea. A mug of tea that she has notably not touched.

“Anything you want to, or I could ask some specifics if you’d like.” You take a sip of your own tea, hoping it might show her it’s safe. She only hums in response, you decide it might be for the best if you just ask her what you need to know. “Let’s start with a few easy ones, how old are you?”

“Why do you need to know?”

“We need to assess your health, what classes you’ll be put in, if you’ll be needing any feminine products. I promise, anything I ask is for your own good.” Seeing kids like Ellie is a painful reminder of just how lucky your own little ones are, it’s a wonder she made it this far. You can’t hold her skepticism against her, her distrust is why she’s still alive. “Would it help if we brought your father in? He’s just down the hall with Maria.” You aren’t sure why, you typically handle every stray but she had insisted on helping you out today. She’d spewed some sort of excuse about how Ellie might need some special attention but as far as you can tell she’s in the same state that most kids are in when they arrive.

“He’s not my dad.” She’s quick to say it, as if it’s a sore subject.

“May I ask his relation to you then?” Maria had told you she arrived with her father, you were told to expect one teenage girl and one man in his fifties.

“He’s… my friend?” She sounds unsure, unsure enough to ring alarm bells in your head.

“Honey, are you in a safe situation? We can help you if you need-” She doesn’t even let you finish your question before sitting up straighter.

“No, no, no, gross, it’s not like that, he’s not like that.” The look of disgust on her face brings you immense relief, this world is full of enough horrors for a young woman to face.

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure.” Even if she hasn’t been through that, she hasn’t had it easy, no one has. But there’s something distinct in her eyes. Loss. She’s seen more than enough of it, more than anyone her age should. Her eyes keep darting to the door, her head tilts in that direction every time someone walks by. She’s worried about her companion. She doesn’t want to lose him too. “I know none of this makes sense, and you have no reason to trust me but I need you to try Ellie. And if I ask you anything you aren’t comfortable with then you don’t have to answer but I need you to try, please. The faster we finish up here, the faster you can get back to your friend.”

She takes a moment, you’re practically holding your breath when she finally nods.

Perfect, you can work with a nod. You love a nod, a nod is all you need to help this girl.

“Let’s start with your age again.”

“Fourteen.” You’ll have to have a menstruation kit sent to whatever house they put her in, most people’s cycles start being regular once after a few months in Jackson.

“Thank you.” All you get is another nod yet you can’t help but smile. “Do you know where you were born?”

“No.” Her eyes are trained on your shoes, occasionally darting around the room but staying low for the most part.

“Where did you grow up?”

“The QZ.” The thought makes you sick for several reasons. The last place a child should grow up is the streets of a quarantine zone, even if she was in the FEDRA program it wouldn’t have been easy. The thought of any QZ still makes you queasy, even after this long.

“Which one?” Anywhere but Boston.

“Boston.” Of course. With your luck she would be. Someone’s far from home.

“FEDRA program?” As terrible as they are, they always keep the kids' vaccinations up to date, one less thing for you to worry about.

“Mhmm.”

“How old were you when you left?”

“Fourteen.” How the hell did she make it to Jackson all the way from Boston in such a short period of time? Why come to Jackson at all? There’s certainly other QZ’s between here and there, there’s probably other settlements too.

“Can I ask why you left?” It’s not a question you need to ask but your stomach is in knots at the mention of the Boston QZ and you can’t help yourself.

“I’d rather you didn’t.” Something flashes across her face, she isn’t trying to be rude, she simply doesn’t want to talk about it.

“That’s fine.” You don’t need to worry about it. She doesn’t know him. There’s no reason for her to know him. QZ’s house hundreds, if not thousands, of people. There’s no reason to spiral over nothing. “Do you have any allergies that you’re aware of?”

“Nope.” She makes a popping sound on the “P” as she leans back in the chair, trying to look relaxed despite how on edge she still is. You decide not to put anymore pressure on her, it won’t do you any good.

“How are you feeling physically? Any symptoms of illness?”

“Like infection?” You have to stifle a laugh, if she was infected the two of you certainly wouldn’t be sitting here right now.

“I’m not worried about that, I mean something more like a runny nose or a cough.”

“Oh. No.”

“Any skills in particular you’d like to learn? Our school system is a little less traditional than what you probably had with FEDRA.”

“I like science.” She sits up a bit, good, you’ve found something that piques her interest.

“Then I will make sure you’re enrolled in some science classes. But I meant skills like agriculture, construction, or veterinary care. Something you could learn about that interests you. You won’t be asked to help out around town until you’re sixteen but we like to let you explore different things to see what you like-”

“Could I learn how to shoot a gun?” She leans forward before you can finish your thought.

“You could apprentice some of the hunters, we could also have you trained for patrol and scavenging which involves gun safety and training courses. You’re a bit young for those but I’m sure I could ”

“Really?” You can tell by the inflection in her voice that she still doesn’t trust you entirely, even if she’s excited.

“Of course, you’ll probably be the youngest student in the training class but I’m sure you can handle it.” She needs something good in her life. You want to protect everyone who finds their way to Jackson but this girl makes your heart ache. Most adults you’ve worked with aren’t able to hold themselves together this long, putting on a brave face despite everything.

“Do you like burgers?” You almost cringe as you say it, hoping she’s had food outside of the synthetic shit FEDRA produces.

“I guess?”

“I’m having a little cookout tomorrow evening once everyone’s finished their work, it’ll be small, just me and some family but you’re welcome to join. You can bring your friend, I have two little ones you can play with. They might be a little younger than your usual friends but I promise they’re great company.” You swear she almost smiles, and suddenly you just want to make this poor kid smile. “You know, I’ve got a telescope in my garage, so if you stop by it’s all yours.”

“Seriously?”

“Absolutely, I’ve never even touched the thing so maybe you can put it to good use. Let me write down the house description for you, it isn’t too far from this building, you can stop in whenever you want tomorrow. There’s an empty house across the street as well, maybe I could show it to you, see if you like it.” You pencil it down, tearing the paper and handing it to her. This isn’t something you’d typically do but you can’t resist an opportunity to help her feel more at home here.

“Yeah, I mean that would be great.”

“Perfect.” You lean back in your chair. “What sort of hobbies interest you?” You’ll be in charge of putting together a welcome basket for her since Maria has marked her down as a permanent occupant.

“Reading, I like comics. And I used to draw a lot in the QZ.” Perfect, books are easy to find since Jackson was built around a small library.

“Okay then, I think that’s all I need from you for now but I’ll be around soon once you get housing settled. You can go join Maria and your friend if you’d like, I have to figure out what house we’re going to put you two in but I’ll be stopping by later with a few things for you.” That actually isn’t all you need from her, there are more questions on your mind, one specific question. Ask her what his name is.

“Thanks.” She stands, quickly heading towards the exit as you grab your notebook, you need to make a list of everything they’ll be needing.

You shouldn’t. If by some stroke of misfortune you’re right this question will only serve to destroy everything you’ve worked so hard to push away. You shouldn’t.

But you do.

Before she’s out the door you call out her name, you don’t want to know, but you have to.

“Ellie, what’s your friend's name?”

You found the treehouse two months after you found Jackson.

With tears streaming down your face you had dropped the twins off at Maria’s, mumbling apologies before going to the edge of town, a large amount of Jackson was empty, and still is. They’re planning for the future. Someday, generations from now, the town will grow and they’ll use these houses to accommodate families. But for now it’s just an empty town, one that you realized had a treehouse. You had hidden yourself away there, curling up into a ball to become as small as possible.

Tommy had found you hours later, shivering, with no more tears left to cry. And he hadn’t chastised you or asked you why you’d done it, he’d just taken your hand and walked you home. It doesn’t take him hours this time, only about thirty minutes according to your watch. You hear the crunch of his boots, the walking pattern you recognize as his, and the creak of the boards as he pushes the hatch open before sliding up into the small space with you.

Before he speaks you’re already reaching for him, desperate to cling to some kind of familiar safety.

“Hey darlin’.” It’s a dance you two do, fluid and instinctual as he pulls you into his arms, you slot yourself between his bent legs as he wraps himself around you. You used to sit like this when you couldn’t find shelter on snowy nights, one of the many habits you had trouble breaking when you found Jackson. Maria would never ask you to change your relationship with him, it was a decision you had made with Tommy when he told you he wanted to marry her. A part of you just sort of knew she didn’t like it, so you stopped. And you’d never hold that against her, if the roles were reversed you certainly wouldn’t be as kind as she’s been. That’s why you’ve always loved Maria, since the first day you met her she has been like a sister, patient but blunt with you.

Except in this one instance.

She withheld some particularly important information.

“The twins?” You lay back against him as you mumble.

“Maria’s watching them. They’re helping her make dinner, you shoulda’ seen them in the kitchen. I swear she’s the only person they listen…” His voice trails off when he feels you tensing up all over again as you go back to fighting off tears.

A silence falls between you, familiar and reminiscent of your first few days together out in the woods. And just like back then, you’re the one to break it.

“Have you seen him yet?” The words feel small and hoarse in your throat.

“No. Couldn’t bring myself to.” He rests his chin on your shoulder, you wish you could find comfort in any of this but there’s just too much dread. Too much unease fills your stomach to relax.

“Does he know you’re here?” You wish your voice didn’t tremble so much.

“Maria didn’t tell him.”

“Are we sure it’s even him?”

“Not a lot of Joel Millers walking around during the apocalypse.” It’s like he can sense your skepticism as he quickly continues. “She said he looked like a Miller.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Like me but grayer.” Fair enough.

“Does he know I’m here?” There’s no way. He couldn’t.

“No.”

“Good.”

“Can’t stay that way forever.” You know that. But you don’t have anything to say about it so you move on, and redirect the anger that mixes with your confusion and fear.

“Why didn’t she tell us?” He can’t take your side in this, as much as you want him to, he has to take her side because her’s is the rational one. Do you have a side? Can you be mad at her for this? Are there even sides?

“Probably because she knew we’d react like this.” His head tilts a bit to rest against your own. You’re thankful for this position so you don’t have to look him in the eye.

“She should have told us.” You’re trying to remain calm but your voice is pitching up higher by the minute.

“She was going to, she just didn’t know how. She thought she had more time”

You need to relax. It feels like your heart is going to burst from your chest and you’re certain Tommy feels it too.

“How did he find us?” He wouldn’t have been looking for you specifically, unless he had a death wish.

“On accident, I think. Maria said he was looking for me when they found him.” That makes sense. It’s just a coincidence that you’re also here. He has no way of knowing that you even know Tommy. How he managed to locate him is another matter.

“We’re two thousand miles away from the QZ, how the fuck did he find you?”

“He always gets what he wants.”

You can’t argue with that. Plain and simple, you don’t need much more than that.

“I don’t want to see him.” An impossible request, but you make it anyway.

“We both know that isn’t possible.”

“Tell her to send him away.” Also unlikely.

“You know she can’t do that, we don’t turn folks away from Jackson.”

“Then I’ll leave.”

“Like hell you will.” There is no fight in his voice, just certainty as he holds you a little tighter. Not without me. The silent promise that lingers under his words, but it’s more complicated than that now, you have two toddlers and he has a wife, there is no running away from this. No running away from him

He’s inevitable.

It doesn’t matter if the world ends, and you run halfway across the country, Joel Miller is inevitable.

“He’s got a kid.” You mumble as you reach for his hand, entwining your fingers with his. You hadn’t realized how cold you were until you felt the warmth of his skin against yours.

He scoffs. “He’s got two.”

“Another kid, some girl. He brought her here all the way from Boston.”

He shifts a bit, clearly confused. “Why?”

“I was hoping you’d know, it isn’t exactly in his nature to help the needy.”

He pauses for a moment. “Well, I mean, how old is she?”

“Fourteen.”

“Well there’s your reason, Sarah was fourteen.”

Sarah.

A girl you know very little about other than the fact that she’s your daughter's namesake. Sarah Ruth Miller. It had been Tommy’s idea, you had only picked out a name for a boy and you owed Tommy everything for keeping you alive that long, so when he asked if he could pick his niece's middle name you’d been more than happy to oblige.

It hadn’t been Joel who told you about Sarah, he never even told you he had a kid.

Tommy had told you about it just before the twins were born. You’d been snowed into a cabin and he’d just returned from hunting with a grin on his face as he told you he had a surprise. You couldn’t sleep, between the cold and the pain in your lower back you were just too uncomfortable most nights. Tommy always insisted on staying up to keep you company even if he ended up falling asleep most of the time.

That night he told you about how he lost his niece on outbreak day as he skinned the fox he’d caught in one of his traps as you sat beside him in front of the crumbling fireplace. When he finished the story he held up the pelt and told you he was going to make your babies first blanket with it.

Of course at the time neither of you knew that he would have to make a second blanket, or that he would need to do it a month sooner than either of you had planned.

“I invited him to dinner tomorrow.” No sense in hiding the fact from him, he’ll find out either way.

“What?” His hand tightens around yours and it’s your turn to comfort him as your thumb rubs circles against the tense skin.

“Ellie- the kid, I invited her before I knew about Joel. Even told her she could bring him.” You almost laugh at how ridiculous it all sounds now. Of course you invited him to dinner completely by accident, sounds like something you would do.

“Then why don’t we just get it over with?” Or you could leave, brave the Wyoming wilderness with your kids and his wife and make a run for it, far, far, away from Joel Miller.

But you can’t do that.

So you might as well get it over with.

“Together?” You bring his hand up to your face to warm the icy skin of your cheek.

“Together.”

He means it. He stays with you until the next day, walking you back into town and bringing you to his house. Maria starts apologizing the second the two of you walk through the door but you just hug her. She doesn’t owe you anything, any anger you thought you felt towards her was misplaced.

And you all settle in for the night.

On particularly bad nights you’ll spend the night at their house. It’s been happening less and less these last few months but it’s an unspoken decision tonight as Maria brings down sleeping bags from the attic for the kids.

You tuck the kids in by the fireplace, hoping that they don’t catch the vacant look in your eyes as you kiss their foreheads. Thankfully they both seem to be too excited about having a living room campout to notice. You hear hushed whispers from the kitchen, it sounds like an argument so you just sit on the couch, wrapping a blanket around yourself as you stare out the window facing the street.

What house did she put them in? There are a few options for temporary housing, but he could be anywhere. The thought makes you nauseous. Thankfully you’re distracted when you eventually hear Maria stomping up the stairs followed by a sigh from the kitchen before Tommy joins you on the couch.

“Everything all right?” You mumble, hoping to not wake the kids as you offer up some of the blanket to him.

“It will be.”

God you hope so.

“How do you wanna do this?”

Good question.

Preferably you wouldn’t be doing this at all, instead you would be enjoying what might be the last nice day before autumn sets in entirely. You, Arthur, Ruth, Tommy, and Maria. You’d still be happy if Ellie came over by herself but that’s so unlikely you don’t even consider it an option. Joel’s too protective and you confirmed with Maria that Ellie would be coming. He won’t let her go alone, you know that better than anyone.

You rub the back of your neck with your freehand. “The kids stay inside with Maria.” Ruth is already there, helping her aunt with the salad as Arthur sits in your lap, playing with a few stones he’s set up on the picnic table.

“Okay.” Tommy’s biting his nails, you’d spent weeks reprimanding him about that until he broke the habit.

Your knee starts bouncing, a nervous habit of your own that you’ve had for as long you can remember. Thankfully Arthur simply hums to himself as you bounce him. As far as you can tell neither one of the twins knows something is wrong, you can only hope it stays that way.

“We can wait for them out here, I can ask Ellie to go in and help Maria with the kids.”

“And then?”

You frown in contemplation. “I haven’t planned that far ahead.”

“So you didn’t plan for the most important part?”

“Did you?”

His teeth shift when you ask, biting down hard enough to split his nail lower than he intended. You watch as blood blooms there while he curses under his breath.

“Shit, go inside and grab a bandage, they’re in the cabinet above the sink.” He stands as you wave him towards the house, he brings his thumb to his mouth, his brow furrowed. “And bring Maria and Ruth out with you when you come back so we can go over everything with her.” He nods, humming in response before he disappears behind the screen door.

“Is Uncle Tommy okay?” When you look down you’re met with a worried look plastered on your son's face. You instinctively cup his face with your hand, using your thumb to smooth out the wrinkle between his brows. He looks too much like his father when he does that.

“He’s okay, love. He’s just gotta go get your Aunt and Ruth.” You lean down, kissing his forehead before turning to set him down next to you.

“Okay, Mama.” He seems satisfied with your response as he gives your leg a little pat before running off towards the edge of the yard. You’ve got a patch of rocks and gravel the kids like to dig through. You turn to watch him, with your back now leaning against the picnic table as he crouches down, examining the ground before finding a suitable stone. Clutching it in his hand he rushes back to you, holding it up for your approval.

“Very pretty, thank you.” You take it from him with a smile, setting it behind you on the table with the rest of them. He repeats the process several times, staring down at the ground, scrutinizing each rock before bringing the ones he deems good enough over to you. You give appropriate oo’s and ah’s to each one, grateful for the brief peace your son is able to give you. He carries on with this for sometime, until you have a sizable pile of rocks beside you.

He leaves, and he returns, dozens of times until he decides not to return to the patch of gravel.

You thank him for the speckled stone he hands you now but instead of running back across the yard he squints, staring up at your expression.

“What’s wrong?” He hops up onto the bench next to you, grabbing the sleeve of your shirt and bunching it up in his little fist as you give him a soft smile.

“Nothing’s wrong, hon.” You ruffle his hair a bit but he doesn’t seem convinced.

“Why’d you make a mad face then? Uncle Tommy too.”

So much for the kids being clueless, they’ve always been too smart for their own good.

Shit.

You sigh, looking up at the clouds briefly before looking back down at him.

No sense in lying to him. “You know how Uncle Tommy has a brother?” You wrap an arm around him, pulling him close.

His face scrunches up a bit as he thinks. “Yeah…” He doesn’t sound entirely convinced as you give him a reassuring smile.

“Well, we don’t really- we don’t always get along with Uncle Tommy’s brother, and he’s gonna be visiting us soon.”

“Why?”

“He’s in Jackson for a little bit, and he came a long way to get here-”

“No Mama, why don’t you like him?”

This is a conversation you had hoped to have with your children when they’re older. Preferably it would be one you wouldn’t have to have at all, but it’s just another unavoidable part of Joel. They’re already old enough to ask questions, it started when kids in their class began asking if Tommy was their dad. Which of course led to the twins asking you one night just before bed the same question.

“No love, he’s your uncle, who told you that?” You don’t want that rumor going around, people already talk about it, it doesn’t help that they both bear a resemblance to him.

“No one, Annie asked us.” Your daughter answers as you brush some of her hair behind her ear. You recognize the name, it’s a girl in their daycare class.

“And what did you tell her?”

“That we just got a mom.” Ruth answers but Arthur picks up the second she’s finished speaking.

“Do we have a dad?” He tilts his head to the side as you swallow loudly.

“Yes, you do.”

“Where?” Ruth asks.

Last you’d heard he was in Boston.

“I’m not sure.” They turn and look at each other before turning in unison towards you, you should have known they wouldn’t take that answer. “We lived together for a little while, in New York, and then we got separated.” None of that means anything to either of them but it’s an answer, which is better than nothing.

Arthurs tiny hand squeezes yours, pulling you back into reality. You often wonder if they know when you’re lost in a memory, he looks up at you curiously. What did you do to deserve such a patient child?

You take a moment to think of a way to phrase it. “We… got into a fight. A long time ago.”

“About what?”

“Grown up stuff.” Your heartbeat quickens, you don’t want him to know about all that, he’s too little, you need to end this conversation.

“What kin-“ When he starts another line of questioning you poke at his sides, sliding him off the bench in a fit of giggles.

“Time to go inside, nosy little man.” You follow after him as he rushes away, brown hair that’s just starting to curl at the ends falling into his eyes as he runs away from the house.

You catch up to him within a few steps, scooping him up and cradling him like a baby. He lets out a high pitched shriek until you squish your face into his cheek, kissing the rosy skin until he quiets down to a few small giggles.

“Your aunt needs some help in the kitchen, you’re gonna go play with her and your sister now.” He nods as he squirms in your arms until he’s more comfortable, wrapping his arms around your neck and resting his chin on your shoulder as you walk him back towards the house.

He’s gonna need a nap soon, which means Ruth is gonna need a nap soon. Maybe you should try and get them both down before everything else happens.

Right on cue, Tommy pushes open the door with Ruth on his hip, Maria not far behind him. Based on the smiles they’re both sporting you can assume they’ve made up. They always do.

“I think it might be time for these two to head inside.” Tommy gives you a soft smile and for a single second you get to pretend that everything’s fine. Maria takes a lighter towards the grill, trying to light it as you go to stand next to Tommy, the twins both grinning at each other.

In your own little bubble, everything is completely fine, and you’re with your family.

And at the end of your single perfect second the bubble is popped. It all happens before you’re ready, although you doubt you could ever really be ready for this.

Maria pockets her lighter, mumbling something about going inside to look for matches after a few unsuccessful attempts. You set Arthur down, nudging him in her direction, he quickly runs towards her, taking her hand as she begins to make her way back towards the house. Tommy wraps his free hand around your shoulder. Giving you a reassuring squeeze as you rest your head against him to stare at your little girl.

“We’ve got this.” He gives you another squeeze but you’re struggling to find safety in it. He’s always been the strong one, the confrontational one. He’s got this. You don’t. You tilt your head to stare at him when Ruth’s gaze goes from your face to his but your head snaps to the side when you hear your name called.

Everyone looks up. The twins, Maria, Tommy, and you, as Ellie walks around the side of the house and waves at you. The sound of your name makes the man walking behind her look as well, his all too familiar scowl scanning the yard, softening into a look of disbelief when his eyes settle on you.

Then - NEW YORK CITY, QUARANTINE ZONE : 2019

“I don’t like havin’ you out there on your own. I worry too much.” He mumbles the words against the back of your neck as he tightens his hold around your waist. At some point the two of you had stopped pretending you’d wake up any other way and just went to bed like this. “Stay here, angel.”

You’re so comfortable you almost consider it, but you ran out of cards last week and you’re cleared for work as of today. “I have to go if I want to sign up for any of the well paying shifts, Joel.” You peel his arms off of you, sitting up as he matches your movements.

“Don’t sign up for that shit, it’s always somethin’ stupid or dangerous.” His voice is low and thick with sleep as he wraps his arms back around you. “If you need somethin’ I’ll get it for you.” He hasn’t shaved in a few weeks, his coarse facial hair rubs against your shoulder as he murmurs.

Who knew big, scary Joel Miller could be so clingy.

The most surprising part of your relationship, if you could even call it that, with Joel is just how needy he is. You don’t have any problems with it, it’s just a bit of a shock. Although maybe needy isn’t the right word.

Protective.

You’ve left the apartment two times in total since moving in with Joel, both times you insisted on needing air much to his dismay. He accompanied you around the block without a word the first time. The second time was the same, the only difference was that you stopped to buy a small bag of buttons, Joel had frowned as you made small talk with the older man sitting behind the table before rushing you home.

“You could have just told me you needed buttons.” He grumbles as he holds the door open for you as you make your way to the kitchen table, taking a seat as you take his flannel off of you, the sight of your tattered sports bra serves as a reminder of how badly you need to get back to work once you’re cleared.

“I don’t need buttons, you do. Every shirt you own is missing at least one.” You laid the shirt down on the table, pointing to the drawer next to the sink. “Get me the sewing kit.” His frown deepens but he does as you say before sitting down across from you.

Reaching across the table he sets the box down beside you, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Still, you should have just asked me.”

You open the small tin, unspooling a bit of thread. “I needed to go outside for a few minutes, it’s stuffy in here.”

“We could have opened a window.” He grumbles under his breath as you grin, holding the thread between your teeth while sliding the other end through the needle.

“It’s not the same and you know it.” You mumble through your teeth before releasing the thread and setting the needle down. You pour the buttons out onto the table, searching for one that best matches the beige of the buttons on the flannel. Eventually his hand encompasses your own as he guides you to one that’s a slightly different shape but matches the color perfectly. “Thank you.” You give him a teasing smile as you place it over the frayed threads where its predecessor once was.

That was a week ago and you haven’t been outside since but when Joel went to get the mail from downstairs he brought you a notice from the doctor that you were cleared to return to work today. Despite his protests you start to push the blanket off of you but he’s quick to pull it right back up into place.

“Stay, please.” He continues to hum against your skin.

“I need the money, Joel.” You turn to look at him, his usual morning sulky look seems doubled today.

“How much do you need?” He raises an eyebrow at you as he lets his face fall forward, his forehead resting on yours.

“It’s not like that.” You swear, if you asked him to, he'd find a way to give you the moon and stars, but you hate relying on him for everything, especially after such a long time of being dependent on him. “I just need to work.”

“You don’t need to. You want to.” His breath still smells like whiskey from last night as he gives you an exasperated glare.

“Fine, I want to work. My leg’s fine now, you can barely tell anything was wrong with it. I’ll be okay.” You lean just a bit more towards him, kissing his cheek before sliding out of bed.

You aren’t exactly dating Joel.

Dating seems so trivial during an apocalypse, and you haven’t had any conversations about it. It just sort of happened. You woke up one day and neither one of you wanted to pull away from the other, and it progressed from there. He came home from a job one night and climbed into bed next to you, wrapping himself around you and he kissed your forehead before falling asleep. You still don’t know if he knew you were awake. The next night you’d taken his face in your hands and kissed him, just to see what he’d do, thankfully after a moment of shock he’d kissed you back. And it just became another unspoken part of your life with Joel. He kissed you goodbye when he left to go do the things he refused to tell you about in any detail, and you always greeted him with a kiss when he returned.

But you don’t have sex.

You want to ask him why but you hold your tongue, it’s possible you’re just being impatient or maybe he just wants to wait. So you don’t push it or bring it up because you like how things are with him.

The word boyfriend is not a word that suits Joel.

He isn’t your boyfriend, he’s just sort of, yours.

“Angel, please.” He continues his griping as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Joel, please.” You repeat back at him, trying to mimic his low tone.

“I’m bein’ serious. Things have gotten bad out there recently, too much FEDRA bullshit.”

“It’s always been bad and I’ve always managed, I’ll be fine.” You pull one of his shirts out of the closet, slipping it on, starting to button it as he makes his way to the end of the bed.

“Can we at least talk about this?” He rests his elbows on his knees as he hunches over. The morning haze on his face is gone and is replaced by the stern scowl you’re used to.

“There isn’t anything to talk about. I’ll be careful, there’s nothing to worry about, I’ll see you tonight.” After digging through the dresser drawers you eventually find your only pair of jeans. Once your boots are laced you walk back over to him, standing between his legs and taking his face in your hands.

Staring down into his surprisingly gentle eyes, so dark that in the dim morning light they look pitch black.

God he’s pretty.

Even with that stupid pout of his.

“I’ll see you tonight.” You lean down, placing a kiss on his forehead before pulling away only to be stopped when his grip on your waist tightens.

“Just- wait.” You’re about to push him away with a laugh but his voice cracks just enough to make your smile drop.

You start to speak in a soft tone but you only get one word out. “Joel…”

“Please- I just- I can’t let you go out there and sign up for that shit. There’s jobs that aren’t dangerous, simple stuff.”

“Those jobs pay a few cards at best, hon. I can’t wear your clothes forever, I need new underwear, socks, all sorts of things. And I want to contribute around here, I’ll be okay, I promise.” You push the mess of hair falling across his forehead back as you stare down at him.

He looks so genuinely upset already and you haven’t even left yet, he’s making this far more difficult than you thought it’d be. “I won’t be able to do anything if I don’t know you’re safe. It’s dangerous for both of us, I can’t be distracted like that.” You sigh, long and loud as you drop your hands to your sides.

The more you think about it the more it makes sense. He really does worry too much, and even if you don’t know exactly what he does for work, you know it’s dangerous.

Maybe it won’t be so bad.

“Okay.” You groan.

“You’ll stay?” The corners of his mouth start to raise a bit.

“I’ll do the safer jobs.” The hint of a smile that had been on his face dissipates. “It’s a compromise. You can’t always get everything you want.”

“Fine, come right home after.”

“I will.” With one more kiss he finally lets you go.

So, at Joel’s request, you sign up for the easy jobs.

They’re boring, and generally sort of terrible, and they pay the least, but Joel doesn’t make any further arguments about it. So you keep signing up for them. Typically it’s childcare, or filing documents for FEDRA, or working in the entry level food processing jobs.

Boring, boring, jobs that involve standing around and doing nothing or wrangling kids who don’t deserve to grow up in a place like this. You hate the look on their little faces, they always look too grown up for their ages.

But you put up with it, because at the end of the day you get to go home to Joel, Joel who seems to be in significantly higher spirits ever since you’ve agreed to those specific jobs. So you make it work. He makes it worth the banality of it all, at the end of your first week back to work he surprised you with a large paper bag, grinning like you’d never seen him before. When you unfolded the crumpled bag you were greeted with a mess of fabric, different colors and textures. You poured the contents onto the bed and immediately realized what he’d gotten you. Bras, panties, socks, and two pairs of jeans. It must’ve cost him a fortune and your eyes began to water immediately. You had wrapped your arms around him, barely letting go of him for the rest of the night.

After that it got even easier, eventually you got used to it.

You learned to live with the terrible jobs, and if you wanted anything you couldn’t afford with your meager savings Joel always managed to get it for you, even if you hadn’t told him you’d wanted it in the first place.

You probably would have stayed like that forever if you hadn’t started taking the long way home. Weeks had passed before it happened, you had grown comfortable, vulnerable. Joel always made sure you felt safe and you let your guard down just long enough for something to happen.

Joel had left early that morning, telling you that he was gonna be late, before he kissed you, he was out the door before the sun came up.

Whenever Joel told you he would be late you took the long way home. Winding back alleys that were mostly empty that always led back to the apartment building. It was just a treat for yourself, something to do to fill time that would be spent at home, waiting for him.

You never had any issues or alterations.

Until that afternoon.

Joel will be late.

So the second your shift is over you take the handful of cards and make your way through the city. And just like you’ve done every other time, you look behind you every once and a while but not nearly as much as you should. Because of this, you don’t see him until it’s too late.

It’s a younger man, probably a year or two older than you at most peering around the last corner you turned. Once he knows he’s been seen his pace quickens and instinctively you do the same.

“On the ground!” The second you hear it you pray it’s for someone else, it has to be, you’ve done nothing wrong. You walk faster, hoping to avoid what could be a messy confrontation when the sound of boots slamming on the pavement rushes towards you and you’re forced up against the wall of the alley.

In your peripheral you catch the white text against the black of his uniform.

FEDRA.

Your knees are kicked from under you as he pins your arms behind your back, the force at which your head hits the stone has you dizzy as you try to catch your breath. Too much is happening too quickly, when you finally feel like you can use your voice the wind is knocked out of you as you feel him hit you in the side, hard enough to have you wondering if he broke a rib. The force of the hit makes your knees crumble completely as the officer lets you fall, only giving you enough time to get to your hands and knees before his boot slams into your stomach knocking you onto your side.

Finally, when you roll over onto your back you get a clear look at him. He looks like your average FEDRA officer, the only thing out of place is the unsure look on his face. Your ears are ringing so you barely make out what he says, all you catch is something about thinking you were someone else, before he turns and leaves as if it never happened.

Leaving you alone to clutch your stomach and wonder what just happened, and what you did to deserve that.

You’d never heard of random attacks from FEDRA before. Maybe in other zones, but the city has always been calm as far as that goes. Maybe things really did get worse while your leg was healing.

Joel was right.

That’s all you can think about as you stumble to get to your feet, everything hurts but now is not the time to assess your wounds, you need to get home before something else happens. You manage to hobble up the stairs of the building, nearly collapsing by the time you opened the door.

You feel so stupid.

Joel was right.

It isn’t safe out there, at least not for you. No one fucks with Joel, no one attacks him on the street because they’re afraid of him. No ones afraid of you.

It’s a long couple of hours after that.

Mostly a lot of berating yourself as you try to take in the extent of the damage.

Surprisingly it seems to mostly be surface level. Sure, you’re going to bruise pretty bad and your face got scraped up on the stones but nothing permanent seems to have been inflicted.

Once you’ve showered and slipped into an old shirt of his and a pair of panties you climb into bed, wanting this day to just be over, but you know it isn’t. Right on schedule you hear the lock click as Joel steps through the front door, you hide your face in your pillow.

“What are you still doin’ up? It’s almost midnight.” His voice is a low whisper as you hear the familiar sounds of him kicking off his boots and setting down his things. You hear the outer layer of his clothing hit the floor, you told him a while ago you thought it was gross that he slept in the clothes he wore all day. He started sleeping in his undershirt and boxers after that. “You okay, Darlin’?” The bed shifts as he sits beside you and the second you turn and look at him his jaw twitches. “Christ… what the hell happened? Who did this to you?” He’s managing to stay mostly calm but you’re already worried he’s going to blow.

“It’s nothing, I just had an issue with an officer on my way-“

“This is not nothing.” He’s already fussing with your face as you take his hands and move them away from you.

“Joel-“

“Tell me what happened.” It’s a command and you’re too tired to fabricate something, and for the first time in a while, you’re afraid.

So you tell him exactly how it happened. And before you realize it’s happening you’re sniffling, a part of you feels like you’re about to be scolded for this but he only nods, never interrupting you until you’ve finished.

Your vision’s blurry with tears when you look up at him, the weight of being attacked starts to weigh heavy as you realize just how lucky you were that that was all that happened. And then you say the words he’s been waiting to hear.

“You were right, Joel.”

“I’m sorry, angel. I should have been there to protect you.” He holds his arms open and you don’t hesitate as you lean forward into him. You do your best to hold it together as he lays you down before clicking off the lamp and pulling you back against him. He softly scratches your back, kissing the top of your head as he does. It’s silent for a few more minutes until he suddenly whispers into the darkness. “Tell me you’ll stay here from now on.”

“Joel, I-“

“No more going out there without me. You’ll stay safe right here, no one can hurt you here, not while I’m around.” You open your mouth to argue again but stop yourself.

He’s right.

Now that you’ve calmed down you know that you’re lucky to even be alive. You don’t know why you were attacked but you know it could happen again, and there are worse things than being beaten.

No one would hurt you here, not with Joel around.

“Stay here, angel.” He murmurs, softer this time.

Joel is right.

“Okay.”

He isn’t beside you when you wake up, your hands searching through the cold sheets seeking his warmth. He had mentioned something as you were falling asleep about an early morning supply run but you had hoped to say goodbye before he left, you wanted to make him breakfast. As you get ready to roll back over and sleep a bit more you’re startled into an upright position.

“You should watch where you’re flying, angel.” You bite back a shriek as Tess’s voice comes from the direction of the kitchen.

“Christ, you scared the hell out of me!” Your heart skips a beat as you reach over to the nightstand, pulling on the little chain that turns the lamp on. “Joel’s not even here, what are you doing?” You don’t like the idea of being alone with her, she doesn’t come around much anymore, you used to see her in the hall on her way here constantly, but after you moved in she stopped.

You do your best not to flinch as she makes her way over to you, standing at the foot of the bed.

“I’m not here to hurt you, there’s no need for theatrics.” You hadn’t realized you were shaking so badly until she said it, it takes a conscious effort but you manage to stop it for the most part. “I’m just here to talk.”

“About what?”

“About you and Joel.”

You don’t want to talk about that with Tess. You don’t want to talk to Tess at all, she frightens you and she knows it.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.” This time when you flinch she hesitates. For a brief moment the facade of a woman who fears nothing drops, and you swear you see sympathy in her eyes. “Joel is dangerous, you need to be careful with him or you’re going to get hurt.”

Is that why she’s here? To try and break you up?

“He won’t hurt me, he cares about me.” You wish you sounded more sure of yourself.

“You’re right, at least for now.” She flips her pocket knife open, ever so carefully running the blade along the underside of her nails, scraping away any dirt or grime she so happens to find, you fight the urge to flinch again. When she finally looks back up at you she takes a moment, examining your expression as if this was an interrogation. “Being loved by him is the worst thing that could possibly happen to a girl like you.”

You can’t help but scoff, now look who’s being theatrical. “A girl like me?”

“Good, too good. And fragile.” She points at you with the blade before returning to her nails. “He’ll do anything to keep you safe, even if it means breaking you into tiny little pieces, just so you’ll fit in a box he can lock.”

You’re about to call her a liar but you hesitate. “Why are you telling me this?”

“You deserve to know.”

“Okay, but why? You don’t even like me.”

“You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t like you.”

Fair enough.

“I think you should go.” You don’t want to hear anything else. You don’t believe anything she’s saying and the entire conversation makes you feel sick. She doesn’t know anything about your relationship with him, and she clearly doesn’t know anything about Joel. He’d do anything for you, you don’t think you’ve ever been taken care of before you met him.

“What do you know about glue traps?” She doesn’t make any effort to leave so you decide to just answer her with a sigh.

“Like the ones you use to catch mice? I don’t know, Joel buys them sometimes.”

She points her knife in the direction of the corner of the room, it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. Sure enough, in the corner of the room, peeking out from under his dresser, is the faint outline of something on the floor, you’d never noticed it before.

“It’s the worst kind of way to catch a mouse.” She stands, walking across the room and peeling up the trap with the edge of her blade before snapping it shut and taking the edge of the trap between her fingers, dragging it across the floor to the middle of the room so you had a clear view of it. “They’ll do anything to get out.” The tip of her boot nudges the corner of the trap, now that it’s been dragged into the lamp light you can see exactly what she wanted to show you. Two things are in the bloody trap. A mouse, barely alive, based on the way its chest rises and falls, and something else. A caterpillar maybe?

No.

A leg. A bloody mouse leg, on the edge of the trap.

“They’ll chew off their limbs, and peel off their own skin just to get out, the ones that manage to are lucky enough to bleed out somewhere else. The ones stuck in the trap though?” She nods down at the creature you now refuse to look at. “They’ve got it the worst. Suffocation, dehydration, the ones who try to peel off and can’t, bleed out, stuck in place.”

With a sudden crunch, her boot slams down on the trap. You watch, slack jawed, as she peels it off the sole before tossing it in the bin in the corner.

“I’d take a quick death over either of those.”

“I think you should leave. Now.” You try to sound authoritative but your voice trembles too much to sound anything but afraid.

“I heard you got caught up in some FEDRA business yesterday.” She starts again but you’ve had enough.

“Tess.” You manage to have a bit of sterness this time in your tone but it doesn’t seem to affect her much.

“Fine. I’ll leave. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You catch that sympathetic look one more time before she unlocks the door chain, twisting the doorknob before speaking one last time. “I noticed some of our inventory is missing, this is the only warning you’re gonna get about that. If you want shit like that just ask, I’m sure Joel would be more than happy to have another way to control you.” She doesn’t turn around when she says it, simply slamming the door and leaving. You have no clue what she’s talking about, but that isn’t the part of the conversation that sticks with you. All you can think about is that crunching sound.

So you avoided her after that, writing off her words as an act of jealousy.

Joel would never do anything to hurt you.

Of course you know better now. She was just like you, she had been in the glue trap herself when she tried to keep you from joining her, but you hadn’t listened, instead you’d fallen face first into Joel. And he wouldn't let you go without keeping some of you for himself.

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