#need my meds back now i swear to fucking god

[brains4ne]

THEY DONT EVEN SEEM LIKE THEY MISS ME WHAT THE FUCK😭😭😭😭?????

[kestisvrse]

you don’t know me

pairing ⋆ spidey!luke castellan x gn!reader au. fluff with a bit of angst. friends to lovers.

synopsis ⋆ spider-man appears at your window for help, and accidentally reveals his identity.

warnings ⋆ blood descriptions, stitching, swearing, stranger danger tbh, bit dramatic(?), kinda rushed i apologize | wc: 2.5k

a/n ⋆ i hate the ending of this so feel free to not read it😭😭

♫ - jackie and wilson by hozier

1:33am

it was hard trying to stay awake at this time, sound of the rain against your window and the soft snores of your roommates made it was easy to focus on closing your tired eyes instead of looking over all the notes scattered on your desk, it seemed nothing could stop you from drifting off to the peaceful place despite the thought of your sore neck in the morning from being slouched over your desk, but three taps against your window made your eyes shoot open.

he regretted it immediately, as he watched your head rise from the desk, but what else could he do? he gripped his side as he watched you mumble to yourself at the sight of spider-man on your fire escape, but you quickly opened the window.

“what the fuck?” you whisper at the sight, the heavy rain began to cover your window sill and floor but you didn’t even notice.

“hi, um i know this must seem very odd..” the superhero in front of you trailed off as you let him in, “shit, i’m bleeding on your carpet.”

“what- oh shit!” you gasp, noticing the giant gash he gripped on his torso, without a second thought you grabbed his hand and dragged him into your private bathroom, pushing him to sit on the toilet as you rummaged in your cupboards, as you pulled out a first-aid kit, you rummaged for supplies, “can i ask why the hell spider-man is bleeding in my bathroom right now?”

“i- i lost a lot of blood, i wouldn’t have been able to make it to my place in time.” he lied, “not to sound creepy but i saw your light on and.. and i needed help.”

“can you take the top half of your suit off?” you ask, washing your hands, as if you hadn’t even acknowledged what he had said. he nods, unzipping the back and removing his arms from the sleeves, letting the suit rest at his waist, his mask still hiding his identity, “this will hurt.” you warn, even though he had definitely experienced worse than a wound being wiped down.

but still he winced, clenching his jaw, as you realized it wasn’t just a cut, he had been stabbed.

“thank god you stumbled across a med-students dorm.” you mumble to yourself, trying to lighten the mood as you get ready to stitch his side together, as he went to laugh at your comment he was interrupted by a groan of pain emitting from his throat.

“i know it hurts, but try to be quiet. if you wake clarisse, my roommate up, she will not make this situation any better.” you say, luke holds back a laugh knowing it was definitely true, he bites down on his lower lip as you stitch him up. luckily it was a shallow cut,.

you worked in silence, occasionally broken up by strewn out swears and winces from the superhero, biting your lip in concentration. as you tied together the final stitch you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding.

“okay, the hard part is done.” you informed him, wiping down any excess blood that stained his skin.

“thanks.” he mutters weakly, moving to adjust his posture but immediately freezing as pain shoots up his body.

“stay still.” you say, “i still have to bandage it.” pulling out medical tape and gauze out of your medical bag, he felt as your hands occasionally slipped off the white bandage and touched his stomach. the pain almost subsided as the feeling of your fingertips burned into him. wrapping the bandage around his torso and taping it down you lean back on your knees, letting out a sigh.

he focuses on you as you stand, washing blood off your hands in the sink before cleaning up your supplies, you glance at him catching him staring, as he pretends to admire your bathroom as if he hadn’t been in here before.

“um-“ he clears his throat, “sorry for bleeding on your floor.” he mentioned, guilt evident in his voice.

“s’okay, i didn't like that carpet much anyways.” you say, which was a lie. luke remembered vividly how happy you were to get what you called, ‘the best rug ever’ for your room, his brows furrow.

you lean back against the bathtub, letting out a sigh, he goes to move but you nudge him with your foot, “don’t go just yet, won’t be good to swing on new stitches.” you explained to him, as he leaned back against the back of the toilet.

his breathing was sharp and inconsistent as his stomach stung in pain, his eyes squeezed shut, “the only thing i have for pain is like advil and tylenol. i don’t know if that helps with stab wounds though.” you spoke up, he shakes his head in response.

“i’ll be fine, just- just need to catch my breath.” to which you nodded in response.

“can i get you water?” you suggest, quickly standing as a ‘please’ is heard from under the mask, him suddenly noticing the scratchy and dry feeling of his throat. you rush out the room, tiptoeing into the kitchen to grab water for the superhero, as you return and hand it to him, you spin around so he can remove his mask.

his face was red as he watched you carefully, slipping his mask above his nose to gulp down the glass. scared you’d spin around to discover it was your friend bleeding out in the bathroom.

but you didn’t, as he pulled the mask back down and placed the cup on the counter, is when you turned and returned to your spot on the floor, bringing your knees to your chest.

he begins to shuffle uncomfortably on the toilet, breathing harder as his back slouched and his body tensed. the bandages felt tight on him, as he resisted the urge to rip them off, he was quickly distracted as you kneeled in front of him, placing your hand on his exposed wrist.

tingles shot up his body at the feeling of your skin against his again, it felt so odd, knowing he had hugged and brushed past you so many times but this was different, every touch had him blushing as butterflies flew around his stomach, he didn’t know you felt the same way, but with luke, not spider-man.

“control your breathing, your pulse is out of control.” you breathe, your pointer and middle finger pressed against his wrist feeling his pulse.

he began to focus on your breathing, watching as your chest rose and fell while you seemingly seemed focused on the wall of the bathroom. he quickly matched his breathing with yours, sitting up straight as your hand pulled away from him.

“thank you, for helping me.” he stammered, suddenly self conscious of his voice, how hadn’t you recognized it?

“i mean, what else was i supposed to do? there was a superhero at my window sill.” you scoff in disbelief, “it’s fine, i mean, it’s the least i can do for you keeping me- uh new york, safe.” you clear your throat, staring at your hands that rest atop your knees. “can i ask you something?”

his throat dries, “yeah?”

“i mean- obviously don’t answer if it’s too personal or gives away your identity, but.” you tilt my head, “do you like… live a normal life during the day? or are you always spider-man?” you ask cautiously.

he pauses to think about his answer, narrowing his eyes at you, “oh yeah, i-i do have a normal life during the day.” he confesses, the hand that grasped his stomach moves to scratch the back of his neck.

“cool.” you reply, stopping yourself from question him farther.

“you aren’t asking any questions,” he stated quietly, almost in disbelief. as he spoke, he shifted his attention to your face. “i was expecting some like freaked out reactions. but you’re... you’re really chill about this.”

“you have a secret identity for a reason, i wouldn’t want to ruin that for you. you keep the city safe, and that’s all i need to know.” you shrug in response, staring at the white eyes of his mask.

“i mean it’s so crazy.” you say randomly, causing his head to tilt in confusion, “i’ve thought about it before you know, imagine one of my friends was a masked superhero.” he tenses, knowing that in fact it was true, “like my friend luke, he’s always disappearing at random moments.” his eyes widen but you don’t notice because of the mask, chuckling to yourself at the thought.

“yeah, imagine that.” he murmurs in response, suddenly very sweaty in stress.

“how’re you feeling?” you turn your attention back to him.

“still hurts a lot, but i should go now.” he explains, his hand on the counter to steady himself as he stands, “again, thank you so much.”

you walk to the window, opening it and helping him climb out onto the fire escape, “again” you repeat him, “it’s the least i could do.”

4:56pm

you yawn as you open the door revealing luke castellan, bag swung over his shoulder and hair messy from the wind, he gave you a lopsided smile, “ready to study?”

you shake your head as he enters your apartment, “i was studying all night, barely got sleep.” you respond, leading him to your room.

he just nods his head at you in response, cheeks growing hot, sure you were studying, before his alter ego stumbled through your window.

as he walked into your room, he immediately took notice of the spot of your carpet that had been rolled over, to cover the evidence of the blood stain. his stare lingered there, before quickly collecting himself to sit on your bed.

“i made these flashcards for you last night.” you break the silence, holding up pastel green cards, “ready to be tested, castellan?” you tease, plopping onto the bed and leaning against the headboard as he takes his jacket off.

“oh bless you for those.” he praised, comfortably laying down at the end of your feet.

“just admit i’m your favourite person.” you giggle, he rolls his eyes before encouraging you to begin.

thirty minutes past as you tested him, reaching the end before you would swap over, “alright” you clear your throat, “next- luke?” your gaze drifts up from the card.

“yeah?” he asked, waiting for you to continue.

“you’re bleeding.” you point at his shirt, he looks down to find his blue t-shirt slowly bleed red, dripping down his side. immediately, he reacted by pressing down as hard as he could against the wound, a small whimper escaping his lips in the process.

“what-“ you cut yourself off, to look up into his eyes, eyes widening in the process “no fucking way.”

he tore his attention away from his wound, blood seeping into your bed sheets, “i-“ in a flash you’re up from the bed, cards spilling onto the floor as you yank him up causing him to yelp. he sits down on the toilet as you rummage for the first aid kit, again.

“take off your shirt.” you demanded, and despite the surprise this brought him, he didn’t resist. he removed his shirt almost immediately, revealing the bloody coated bandages.

you stared at his chest, the fact that it was the exact same as spider-mans made you wanna scream, but you held back, removing the bandages and staying quiet to patch him up, too scared to speak.

luke stayed silent, staring at you with sad eyes, praying you would forgive him. he winced every so often at the sting of you restitching some stitches that came loose, and rewrapping his stomach with fresh gauze.

your lips pursed together as you washed your hands, refilling the same cup from last night with water and placing it beside him before walking off into your room. luke quickly tugs hair shirt back on, ignoring the blood stain and the pain that shot up his body at the sudden movement, before going to stand in front of you in your room, “i’m sorry.” he whispers.

“you could have died, and it would have been my fault.” you remarked, “can you imagine? spider-man dies in my bathroom and i take his mask off to reveal my best fucking friend.” you scoffed, tears covering your waterline.

his expression softened, as he nudged your foot with his, “but i didn’t.”

“but you could have!” you yell, shooting up to stand in front of him, “jesus luke, this is what you’ve been doing all year? this is why you disappear all the time?” he stares at his shoes as you rub your forehead.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, a sad expression covering his face, as he blinked rapidly, “i’m sorry for putting you through that. i didn’t mean to worry you.”

“you-you’re spider-man.” you gasp out, in disbelief. your hand clutches your chest as tears roll out onto your cheeks. his hand brushes your bicep as you flinch.

“yeah… yeah i am.” he sighs, guiding you to sit back down on your bed, “i wish i hadn’t come here last night but- i wouldn’t have been able to stitch that up myself.” he sighed as you sobbed into your hands.

“you could have died.” you choke out, repeating yourself before falling into his side, almost on instinct he wraps his arm around you, rubbing your back comfortingly. he knew you wouldn’t respond well if he had ever told you, but he hadn’t thought about how you would feel to him almost dying in your bathroom.

“i’m okay. i promise.” he breathed into your hair, but you just shook your head in response, unable to respond as you tried to catch your breath.

“i don’t care if i am fast asleep, if this ever happens again, you come to me luke, i stitch you up.” you begged, looking up to him teary eyed.

his gaze softens looking at you but nodded in response, “okay, i promise.” his hand hovers over you neck, “i didn’t want to put you in danger or worry you. i would have told you. i was also scared you wouldn’t… wouldn’t look at me the same” he whispered.

“you’re still luke castellan, i still will like you no matter what, you just… you scared the shit out of me.” you sputtered out, not thinking about what you were saying to the boy in front of you, his body tensed.

“like me?” he asks, brows furrowed to see if you meant as friends or.. as more. he got his answer as he watched your eyes widen slightly and you began to stutter, “you… you like me?”

“what- no i meant-“ you shake your head so hard he thought it might spin off, and so he took his chance. the hand that hovered over your neck held your face still as he connected his lips with yours.

you found yourself unable to kiss back in shock, he heats up in embarrassment as he began to pull away, which brought you to your senses as you pulled him back down to press a soft kiss against his lips.

he pulled away for air, leaning your foreheads against each other.

“i can’t believe i accused you of being a secret superhero, while infront of you last night.” you mumbled, as he just laughed in response and shook his head.

“i promise to be more safe, just for you.” he said, leaning in to peck your lips.

[bloatedandalone04]

Sound of Your Heart

➪the one where you take care of clay after his surgery.

Warnings: mentions of surgery, descriptions of wounds, swearing, fluff to the max because clay is such a sweetheart and deserves everything good in the world

Word Count: 2.1k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“Fuck,” Clay grunted as he sat up in bed. His arm instinctively reached out to you, but he found your side of the bed empty. Judging by the indentation and the warmth his hand was met with, he knew you hadn’t been up for long, and it was most likely your absence that caused him to wake up so abruptly. He never could sleep for long without you. “Y/n?” He called out to you, and not even a second later your head was peeking out from the bathroom doorway. 

When you furrowed your brows in question, he reached out for you as he slumped back against the headboard. 

“Baby,”

You were crossing the room instantly after tossing your toothbrush onto the bathroom counter, forgoing your previous plan to brush your teeth so you could instead check on your wounded boyfriend. Sitting on the edge of the bed next to him, you take his hand in yours as you give him a concerned look. “What? What’s the matter, baby?”

He grunted quietly as he placed his free hand against his chest, his fingers picking at the edges of the bandage that was covering his incision mark.

You understood without him actually saying anything and moved closer so you could push away his hair that fell over his forehead. “Is it hurting bad today?” You ask in a soft voice as you move your hand down to massage his shoulder. 

He shook his head a bit as he laced his fingers with yours and squeezed them. “Just sore,” he tried to play it off, but you knew him better than that. He was clearly in pain, but wasn’t telling you just how much, as if that would make him look weak or vulnerable or something. 

You give him an unimpressed look as you reach over to grab his pain meds from off the nightstand. “You don’t need to lie to me, Clay,” you tell him as you grab his hand and place two of the pills onto his palm. “I’ve been with you for how long now? Almost three years? I know when you’re lying, so I’m not sure why you still try to do it to me.”

He huffed and took the glass of water you held out to him from off the nightstand as well. “I’m not lying,” he tried but knew it was no use. You simply knew him too well. Sighing, he took the meds before putting the glass aside. “It’s not bad. It was worse yesterday.”

You nod and run the tip of your finger along the edge of the tape on his chest. “Okay, that’s good,” you murmur and lean down to press a kiss to the skin of where his heart is. “It should only hurt for a few more days, then you’ll be a whole new man.” 

He gave you a boyish grin, your attempt at lightening the mood helping more than you probably knew. “I’m feeling better already,” he said and lifted his arms. “Lay with me.”

You give him a look of warning, one he’s seen you wear a lot since he got off that surgery table. “No,” you reply and move away from him, but he doesn’t drop his arms as he stares at you. “I don’t want to hurt you, that’s why I’m not sleeping on you like I usually do at night. I don’t want to put pressure on your chest.”

He drops his arms to his sides at that as a laugh escapes him. “Oh, so that’s why you won’t touch me when we’re in bed,” he laughed again while you rolled your eyes. “Come here, baby, please? Your rejection is hurting my heart.”

You gasp and lean over to slap his leg through the thin sheet that still covered it. “Don’t say that to me,” you scold but can’t help the grin that took over your face at the sound of his laugh. “God.”

“I’m just kidding,” he assured you and leaned over to place his hands on your waist in a gentle tug. 

“I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to joke around,” you mutter and stay still, despite him trying to pull you onto his lap. 

“Come here,” he nearly begged when you still weren’t giving in to the pull of his hands. “Please? I miss you.” 

You laughed and moved the smallest bit closer to him. “I’ve been by your side for the last eight days, Clay,” you point out and brace yourself by placing your hands on his shoulders and keeping your body away from his chest. “How could you possibly miss me?”

“I miss you all the time,” he answered, leaning forward and running his nose along your collarbone. “I miss feeling you against me. I’m not broken, Y/n, you won’t hurt me if you touch me.”

“I know, but,” you trail off as he gives you a pleading look. You never were good at saying no to him, and he was always way too good at getting you to give in to him. “Fine, but I need you to tell me if it hurts, okay? Promise me.”

Clay lit up at that and leaned back against the headboard, lifting his arms once more. “I promise,” he says quickly. “Come here, sweet girl.”

Of course, you give in. 

Moving to the middle of the bed, you situate yourself so your front is pressing against his side. His arms immediately wrap around you and pull your body closer to his, seeming to be unconcerned about the way he is putting a bit of a strain on his chest. 

If there is one thing Clay liked about needing to take those meds, it was that they kicked in fast. Now he could hold you in his arms and press you up against his chest without feeling any pain at all. 

You settle against him and place your head on his shoulder with a light pressure. “Is this okay?” You ask when he places a kiss on your forehead. “It doesn’t hurt?”

“It doesn’t hurt, baby,” he assures you and holds you a bit tighter against him. 

He missed this. You had been so careful around him, and while he appreciated that and absolutely adored the fact that you didn’t want to hurt him, he craved the physical touch he was used to receiving from you. Your relationship had pretty much been built on touch, whether that be hand holding, kisses on every inch of your skin, or wrapping each other up when it was time for bed. 

Maybe he was greedy, but he had been craving that sense of normalcy ever since he returned home from the hospital. He had finally managed to convince his mother that he was fine and that you were going above and beyond to make sure he was doing well, and all he wanted to do was spend the rest of his recovery process with you in his arms. 

He couldn’t do much, and even getting up to go to the bathroom or changing his clothing proved to be hard tasks at times,but he would gladly toughen up and take that pain rather than have you too afraid to go near him.

“I missed this,” he sighed and placed another kiss on the top of your head. “I missed holding you.”

You smiled up at him. “I missed it, too,” you admitted and placed your hand over his mouth when he leaned down to kiss you. “I haven’t brushed my teeth yet. You interrupted me before I could.”

He scoffed quietly, a teasing grin on his lips. “I don’t care,” he said and moved your hand so he could place a kiss on your mouth. When you pulled away after a quick peck, he groaned. “You’re killing me here.”

You raise a brow and begin to lift yourself up. “What did I say about you joking like that?” 

“No,” he quickly pulled you back down onto him. “I’m sorry. No more, okay?”

Giving him a skeptical look, you settle back against him and gently rub the skin next to the bandage. “I know I’m probably being a bit overbearing right now, but I just worry about you. Plus, your mom calls me everyday to make sure I’m taking proper care of you since you won’t let her,” 

He laughs and the sound vibrates his body against yours. “Yeah, that sounds like her,” he mumbled, running his hand up and down your back. “She gets to pick the surgeon if you get to take care of me. That was the deal, and she chose her doctor friend she’s known for years. Now you get to do your part and look after me.”

“She was very persistent that her friend needed to be the one to do it, huh?”

“That’s my mother for you,” he replied and you laughed. 

“I like your mom,” you mumble. “She doesn’t put up with any bullshit when it comes to you. We have that in common.”

Clay hummed, very aware of just how protective his mom had been over him since he was informed of his condition. “That’s why you and her are the best women in my life,” 

“We’re the only women in your life,” you correct him with a side glance before leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “And don’t ever forget that.”

He grinned down at you, reaching one hand up to brush away the hair from your face. “I love you,” 

“I love you more,” you tell him and kiss him on the lips, despite your previous excuse of why you didn’t want to kiss him right now. Honestly, fuck morning breath when your boyfriend is this hot. 

He kisses you back, deepening it as he lets his need for you pour from his mouth to yours. He wasn’t lying when he said he missed touching you, and that included with his lips. 

When he leaned further in, you gently pushed him back against the headboard. “Don’t wear yourself out,” you remind him and trail light kisses from his jaw down to the base of his throat. He refrained from moaning at just how good it felt since he clearly was in no shape to get laid at the moment, and he didn’t want to turn you on then not be able to properly take care of you. “Your meds should be kicking in any minute now and they make you drowsy.”

“I know,” he rasped, tilting his head when you began peppering his neck with quick kisses. “That’s why I hate them. I just woke up and I’m already tired again.”

You hum and pull away from him completely. He opens his mouth in protest, but you silence him with a raise of your hand. “That’s a good thing, it makes you sleep off the pain,” you grinned and lifted yourself off the bed. Clay’s eyes trail up and down your body, his teeth getting caught between his teeth as he takes in the sight of your bare legs. “Don’t look at me like that.”

He lifted a brow as he continued to admire your body. “Like what?”

“That,” you point at him. “Like you want to pounce on me or something.”

“You’re wearing nothing but my shirt, sweet girl,” he stated the obvious as he slumped back against the pillow. “Of course I want to pounce on you. You know I would if I had the energy.”

That had you holding back your own sound of pleasure as you turned towards the door. “There will be a lot more time for that once you’re fully healed,” you really weren’t sure who you were trying to reassure with that one. “Please try to stay awake while I go make your breakfast. You can go back to sleep once it’s done.”

Clay groaned and buried himself under the covers. “I could just go with you,” 

“No way,” you said immediately as you grabbed a pair of sweats to wear around the house. “No leaving that bed unless you absolutely have to. We’ve been over this.”

Clay rolled his eyes as he snuggled into your pillow and inhaled the sweet scent of your conditioner. “Whatever you say, mom,” he mumbled as he tried to keep his eyes open. “I expect you to spend at least another hour in bed with me after breakfast, just so you know.”

You shake your head and open the door, glancing back at him as he burrowed further under the covers. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,”

-

for you, my sweet @everydaydreamer

[credince--writes]

Hands (1)

God, you dream of those hands.

Original Prompt:

Size Kink & Breeding Kink with Konig.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - AO3

Konig x Fem! Reader

(A/N): I accidentally fuckin deleted the original post while trying to add links to the other 2 chapters, so reposting LMAO. I'M SO SAD BC IT WAS ONE OF MY BEST PREFORMING POSTS.

Honestly? It started in a very innocent way.

"I'm taking off your gloves."

He sat in front of you, tapping his foot on the cold tile. Currently under the attention of you from the intended use of his hands in combat.

Which is why you were inspecting for broken knuckles.

Most of his gear had been taken off, set aside along with the hood that donned his head on missions. Now, you were pulling the gloved that clung to the asking of his hands off. Inspecting the pale skin beneath them.

"You know, I'm starting to think you do dumb shit like this on purpose." You glance up at him.

"I'd never." He replied.

"Because I'm lookin' at these hands, and I'm seeing a whole lot of unnecessary bruising."

"It was necessary."

You quirked a brow.

"You just, happen to lose your gun there soldier?" You pulled back, leaning back against your seat and shooting him an amused glance.

"Sometimes, things are better done by hand."

"mmhm." You mumbled.

Eyes trailed up his hands, finding stray scars and following the veins leading up to his forearms.

Man,

those were some big hands.

"Is everything alright, doctor?" He asks, amusement twirling around in his eyes, sparking out in his voice.

Maybe he was catching on to your oogling.

"Just making sure nothing broken. Can't imagine it would be fun to work with broken fingers."

"Nein."

"This hurt?" You ask.

"Nein."

"Then you're fine. I'll give you some meds and send you off on your way."

"Danke!" He shot up, clamping a hand down on your shoulder, man near enveloping your entire left side.

You started to imagine what it would be like if that big hand wrapped around your neck.

"Be careful, please."

"Of course." He shot a sideways, toothy grin. The side that his nose crooked over to and the side with the one crooked canine that made him look like a dog ready to chase a bone.

He turned, starting to walk away.

"You know, König." You stated. He stopped a turned around. "If you want to visit me, you don't need to have an injury."

His eyebrows raised, and you could swear there was a blush that tinted his cheeks. "I'll consider that for next time."

Before turning and leaving.

And he did visit you.

One visit turned into two.

Then four.

Then he just popped in so often while he was not on a mission he became part of your routine.

Have a cup of coffee with König in the morning, maybe even join him for dinner and enjoy it in the sanctity of your quiet and private office.

Just so happened that the longer you spent with him the more your thoughts were clouded.

His hands,

his thighs,

fuck, you can't even imagine how big his cock would be.

You'd like to think you were better than this.

Pressed up in your shower thinking about the huge man, wondering what his bare chest would feel like curling up over your back.

You closed your eyes, trying to picture just how good it would feel.

It would be right after he comes back from a mission, the dark look in his eyes still clouding his consciousness as he's still in the mindset of a soldier, a killer.

His steps would be heavier- you'd hear him walk into the bathroom, the rustling of clothing as he strips the cloth covering his flesh discarded down to the ground without a second thought.

He'd slip into the shower, with your head placed under the stream of hot water. Almost comically so, his head would be unable to reach the stream of water without immensely bending at the knees.

You'd hum, leaning back into him as he'd reach his arm around your waist, pulling your wet body closer to his. Head dropping down for his mouth to latch onto the nape of your neck, biting and sucking on the sensitive skin.

Gasping throwing your head back farther and allowing it to bump against his shoulder, letting out a light whine that he'd love to harvest from your throat.

One hand would drift down, widening his palm as it flattened and slid down your tummy, nearly covering the expanse of your abdomen before it dipped down, lower.

His other hand would grab your chin, pulling your head back to meet into a feverish kiss. Pressing your back up against the cold wall of the shower, holding it up against it.

On a normal occasion, you'd be terrified to slip, but you just know with his arm slinked around over you waist toying dangerously close to your cunt that there was no chance of slipping.

No chance of him letting you go.

A digit would brush up through your folds collecting the slippery production of your arousal, dragging his finger ever so carefully up until it traced around your clit. Circling it, dangerously so.

Applying pressure as the rough pad of his finger pushed against your clit, mouth devouring any noises you let out.

It hurt, in a way.

One that was so delicious you only wanted more.

His large finger pressing down on your clit felt heavenly, the feeling of his tongue pushing against yours as you swapped spit in the most degenerating fashion.

Your hips unconsciously pushed forward against his hand, bucking as he pressed you firmly against the wall.

He'd tsk, giving you a light scolding before removing his mouth from yours completely, allowing a thin strand of spit to cast its way from him lips to yours.

God.

You could just die.

He'd snicker, that snicker that made his lip quirk upward revealing his crooked tooth. All before he'd lean in and ask,

"What do you want me to do, Schatz?"

"Fuckkkk." You'd whine, letting your head bump against the shower wall. "Please." You'd whisper out.

"Hm?" He'd ask, still toying his finger around your clit.

"Finger me- fuck, please. Please finger me."

His finger would leave your clit, diving back down and just barely poking into your entrance.

The digit was long and thick- it felt like nearly two of your own being stuffed inside you. Even more so as the single digit could curl up in such a delectable manner pressing up against the spongey roof of your core.

You'd breathe harshly, ducking your head up against his neck and arm gripping at the expanse of his back and nails digging into the pale and freckled flesh.

He'd add a second digit, and you felt like you were on cloud nine.

No,

You felt like you were on cloud nine as he removed his free hand from you, bringing it down and rubbing on your clit as his other hand pumped mechanically in and out of you, curling his fingers forward and circling the pad of his finger against your clit.

It would feel like your legs would give out first, but he'd keep you upright as you came, his mouth would latch onto yours. Shoving his tongue into your mouth claiming you in the best way possible.

Body draped over yours, his large hands pleasing you to the point of competition-

Blinking, you realized there was no man draped behind you.

The water in the shower had run cold a long time ago, but the pleasant buzz in your head from your shameful masturbation numbed any embarrassment for a few moments.

You sighed, turning off the water and glancing down at your fingers.

For now? Thinking of his large hands would have to do.

[lilg05]

I’m sorry pt2

pov: you and paige make up after a fight

warnings: swearing angst smut pet names

it’s now 4 in the morning and you’ve been tossing and turning all night you know paige is at aubrey’s but you need to see her. You put on a pair of plaid pajama pants and one of paige’s hoodies grabbing your keys off the counter you start to walk down the block towards aubrey’s house. Finally arriving you knock on the door a few times not thinking anyone will answer but someone does and that someone is paige.

Not noticing it’s you at first she answers with a confused “yes?”

“paigey” you sniffle

“Y/n what are you doing here?” she asked annoyed.

“paigey please come home”

“y/n/n”

“I’m sorry for being a bitch and being so pushy”

Paige stays silent just watching you as you rant to her. The silence was deafening making you more anxious.

“i’m sorry i shouldn’t of came here i’m gonna go” you start to walk down the hall but as your about to turn the corner you here a distant

“wait” paige yells as she jogs towards you “y/n none of this is your fault i had a bad practice and i took it out on you and i shouldn’t of done that you are the best thing that god has ever given me and after i left today or i guess yesterday” she chuckles “i took sometime to reflect and I was the one being the bitch not you and for that i’m so sorry.”

Letting paige’s words set in you grab her hand squeezing it softly “let’s go home yeah?”

Paige walks you to her car and drives you guys home. As paige walks into the house she notices all the tissues by the coach and you open bottle of anxiety meds next to half empty glass of water.

“baby”

“yeah”

“why are your meds out”

“i had an anxiety attack” you whisper

“because of me?”

“paige”

“god i’m so sorry baby”

“it’s okay paigey let’s just go lay down yeah”

You and paige go into your shared room and fall asleep in each others arms.

________________________________________

The next morning you wake up and Paige is laying on your stomach. You take your fingers through her hair. Paige let’s put a satisfied groan.

“morning baby” she whispers

“morning my love”

“can i kiss you”

“ofcourse”

She leans up and kisses you softly her hand finding its place on your jaw. Slowly your soft kisses start to turning into making out paige now straddling your waist as you kiss her neck.

“i want this off” you say tugging at her shirt

She takes her shirt off effortlessly with one hand giving you more access to her chest starting to leave tiny little love bites causing paige to let out a soft moan.

“So beautiful p” you whisper into her ear and biting on it softly. This causes paige to buck her hips up against your pelvis causing you both to let out throaty groans. Your hands find a home on her hips urging her to continue on with her movements.

“fuck ma feels so good” she moans out speeding up the past of her hips. she yelps as you flip her over and tug off her boxers. You look into her eyes for consent.

“please ma”

you lean down and start to kiss in between her thighs teasing her as you kiss everywhere but her sweet cunt.

“fuck baby please” she whines “need you so bad”

finally you lick a long stride up her pussy her hands immediately flying to your hair tugging on it as she grinds on your face.

“yes just like that baby oh shit don’t stop”

you can tell that paige is about to cum and just as that rubberband is about to snap you stop.

“yo what the fuck?”

“i’m sorry but do you think you deserve to cum?” you ask

“excuse me?”

“i’m being serious do you think bad girls get to cum, cause i’m pretty sure you told me only good girls get to and you weren’t a good girl yesterday” i explain

paige let’s put a frustrated groan “what can i do to prove to you that i’m a good girl”

“beg” you say simply

“y/n i’m not going to beg for you”

you sigh and start to put your shirt back on “fine with me”

“wait wait wait” she sighs “please y/n”

“please what” you ask

“please fuck me with your fingers” she begs

“there you go” you say as you start to rub your fingers up and down her slit before starting to inch into her slowly

“oh shit” she gasps

“fuck so wet for me aren’t you paigey”

“please y/n”

I stop abruptly my fingers half way into her tight cunt “that’s not my name baby and you know it”

“please m-mommy”

“there we go good girl” i moan out “so tight around these fingers”

“fuck mommy please don’t stop”

“who’s pussy is this” you ask whilst curling your fingers into her g-spot making her arch her back and let out one of the most pornographic moans you’ve ever heard.

“yours shit please don’t stop mommy i’m gonna cum”

“yeah is my pretty baby gonna cum for me”

“yesss” she moans out.

you slip out of her and push your underwear down and slit yourself right on top of her rubbing your clit on hers earning moans from the both of you.

“shit feels so good doesn’t it baby?” you ask paige suddenly flips you over and starts to grind into your cunt now chasing after her orgasm that she’s been denied of twice now.

“fuck yes use me baby use me for your personal pleasure” you say while slapping her ass cause a quiet moan to slip out. Paige looks down at you with dark eyes and you know that you’re slowly starting to slip into submission for her.

“fuck paige please don’t stop i’m gonna cum”

“cum for me baby” she whispers into your ear

“oh fuck” you yell out as you cum paige cumming at the same time her hips starting to slow.

She gets up real quick and grabs a towel to clean you guys up.

“fuck if i knew that’s how we were gonna have sex when your mad at me i want you to always be mad at me.” she chuckles while kissing your forehead

“i love you baby” you say admiring her ocean eyes.

“i love you too” she whispers.

Hey part 2 sorry if this is bad 😭

[luveline]

More zombie au! Steve!!! Please! It’s literally so good I love how you write Steve all protective <3

thank you ♡ steve zombie au —steve gets sick. you meet a dark-haired stranger while looking for meds. fem!reader 2k

You compare your arm to the bottle in your hand. You've written a list of generic and brand name antibiotics in biro on your forearm, but they're smudging from nervous sweat. You're getting desperate. 

Nothing seems to match. You're shaking with aching arms and legs, fucking terrified as you sift through a floor of orange and white pill bottles that nothing is going to match your list, and worse, the pharmacy grows darker by the hour. You don't have a torch. 

Things are getting pretty bad at camp. There's not enough food to go around, no batteries, and now Steve's… 

A bottle slips out of your hand and knocks into another. You cringe and pick up the next. You've been searching for hours without sitting down, as hiding underneath the bottles is a carpeting of grainy glass from the smashed shelves. Three of your fingertips have cut and scabbed since you got here. 

"Fuck," you whisper, glaring at another wrong medication. "Fuck, fuck." 

Amoxicillin, ciprofloxacin, flucloxacillin. Anything to stop Steve's infection from getting into his blood. It's a gross wound, oozy and inflamed, and when you'd left him with Robin dutiful at his side his skin had glowed with heat like glass held in the centre of a furnace. Even with his eyes closed, he'd known what you were about to do. 

"Don't fucking leave," he'd grit out, fingers twitching up for your hand. 

You'd leaned forward and kissed his damp forehead. "I have to go. I love you. I'll be right back." 

That was ten hours ago at least. You have no idea what condition Steve might be in, so sure you'd find the pills and be back in arm's reach by noon. How sick can he get before it's too much? 

"Shit," you whisper, your fingers tingling. 

"What are you looking for?" 

You fall backward with a sharp gasp, pill bottles biting into your thighs. Your face swings around but the source of the voice is unclear, empty shelves and aisles either side of you. 

"Chill out–" 

"Where the fuck are you?" you demand, scrambling onto your feet with the use of one sacrificed palm. Glass like needles serrates your skin. "Fuck! Come out, loser!" 

"Hey, no need to be mean. I'm up in the ceiling." 

You look up. Peeking out from a displaced ceiling tile is a pale face silhouetted by a matt of dark hair. 

"You fucking little freak," you say, though you feel bad immediately. He's smiling and he isn't pointing any weapons at you, which is more than most strangers allow on the road. "Why are you up there?"

"I wanted to see if you had a gun, stupid." 

"You're stupid, stupid. What if it was in my bag?" 

"Point it at me, then!" 

You stare at him in silence. 

"That's what I thought," he says, framing a face in two hands like a baby angel on a gift card. "Can I come down or are you gonna keep bitchin'?" 

"Don't fucking come down here." 

"Or what?" he asks. 

"I'll get my gun out." 

"Mm, okay," he mocks. "I'll come help you find whatever it is that has your panties in a twist." 

"I swear to god–" 

"Listen. I'm a good guy, I swear." 

"That's what bad guys say." 

The stranger laughs a weird giggly laugh and climbs backwards. The ceiling tiles stress visibly under his weight but make no noise as he disappears from view. He swears a couple of times on the way down, unseen, before the stockroom door swings open and he appears in his intimidating glory in the doorway.

"If you kill me," you say, eyeing his spiked wristbands and the machete strapped to his waist with horrified apprehension, "my boyfriend will avenge me. Like, hunt you to the ends of the earth and slice you into little tiny pieces of vengeance." 

"That sounds like my kind of party, but your boyfriend has nothing to worry about. I got a girl." 

"Don't say rock and roll." 

"How the fuck would you guess that?" he asks, hand flying to the back of his neck for a bashful scratch. 

"My life feels like a shitty gimmicky horror movie, and you look the part." You bite the inside of your cheek. "I need antibiotics." 

"You and everybody else in the world. This for your vengeful boyfriend?" 

You don't need him knowing who they're for. He could be an evil guy, and the threat of Steve waiting for you might be your trump card. "No. My vengeful boyfriend left to look for cans in the shelter." 

"He'll be back soon, then." 

You take a step back. "I'll gouge your eyes out if you try anything, I'm serious. I don't care how big your knife is–" 

"I'm Eddie." Eddie smiles at you, shoving his hands into cargo pockets. Despite his weird questions and his choice of apparel, he looks less intimidating in the lingering light of the setting sun as it seeps between window shutters. "I don't want to hurt you." He frowns. "Any kind of hurt." 

"Can I have the machete?" 

"Nope. I can go put it down somewhere, though, if that's less scary." 

You shake your head, and with a great big sigh, lean down to sift through bottles. If he's going to hurt you, he might as well get on with it. The longer you spend talking to him, the sicker your Steve becomes. 

"You need antibiotics bad?" Eddie asks, his voice softening. 

"My best friend is sick." You toss a bottle, pick up another. "Infection probably getting into his blood. If I don't find something tonight, he's gonna die." 

"Well, we can't have that," Eddie says, crouching down to help. 

You sweep through bottle after bottle of things you wish you needed. Painkillers, sleeping pills, laxatives. Good shit, and nothing you need. 

"You know…" Eddie sighs. "I know you could lie to me, but is it just you, boyfriend and the dying bestie, or?"

You're not sure what the right answer is. Better for him to think you have an army waiting if you get lost, or better to hide them? He could belong to a cult of cannibals. Only… his clothes are squeaky clean. His curls shine with a gloss that comes solely with conditioner, which means he has the time and security to really wash things. 

But murders can wash their clothes, right?

"There's a couple of us," you say. 

"You're not from that place west, are you?" 

You put a pill bottle down slowly. "West?" 

"Yeah, there were people there, hundreds of 'em. We got a few stragglers, survivors from the fucking massacre that happened a few weeks ago. One girl said there must've been thirty, forty kids there, it's fucking awful." 

You swallow a lump. "Awful," you agree.

"Hopper says we can track down the people who did it if we just follow the blood trail," Eddie says, slipping into a theatrical bravado that won't stick. "I don't know… someone needs to stop them." 

You choke, "Hopper? Chief Hopper?" 

"Wait, you're from Hawkins?" Eddie asks. 

You give each other boggled looks, a thrumming hope building in your chest like a flickering flame in the dead of winter. 

"I think you better come back with me," Eddie says. 

"I need antibiotics," you say, wanting to explain it to him and now knowing how. Or even if you should. Awesome, Hopper's alive, but that doesn't mean Eddie's group are good people, or that they can help you. There's nothing anyone in the world can do for you right now if they don't have a handful of Augmentin. 

"You're from The College." 

"I don't have time for this," you say, half apology and half frustration. "Yeah, we were from The College, and now it's gone, and my boyfriend's gonna die if you don't help me find the right pills." You wince and snatch up another stupid bottle. 

"I can get you antibiotics," Eddie says, "but you're gonna have to trust me. Can you do that?"

"No." 

—

Steve wakes up two days later in an unfamiliar building. 

His eyes are made of sand, he can hardly breathe it's that cold, each breath as sharp as a needle as he sucks it in, but there's a roof over his head, a blanket over his chest, and your voice, your laugh rings like a song in the air. 

"He didn't do that, you're lying," you say with a laugh, pulling Steve's hand to your chest. 

"He did." Steve stiffens at the voice. Deeper, rougher than yours. "I swear on my life, he jumped right into Lover's Lake and swam backstroke to prove he could beat Louisa Park's best." 

"Did he beat her time?" 

"No, but he had a condom stuck to his ankle when he got out. Wasn't worth it." 

"Steve," you say. Steve thinks you've noticed he's waking up, but you hug his hand with a sympathetic sigh. "That's so embarrassing. You better wake up soon, I have making fun of you to do." 

"I think I'll stay asleep," he says hoarsely. 

You gasp and choke his fingers between yours. "Steve?" You climb up onto the bed, your weight dipping the mattress under his back. Your hand comes careful and warm against his chilled cheek. "You're awake. You're awake?" 

He strains to unglue his top lashes from his bottom lashes. You beam at him, the little scars around your mouth from a cruel hand shining in the white morning light. 

"What time is it?" he asks. 

"It's, like, seven in the morning." 

"I've been asleep that long?" 

"You've been unconscious for nearly two days," you correct. 

Steve can't remember anything. He has the barest memory of your lips on his forehead. Robin splashing cold water on him and calling him an asshole, and then, much quieter, her best friend. 

"Where's Robin?" he asks. 

"She's being Robin somewhere, you know, she loves being helpful. The kids need help getting settled." 

"And you're being lazy," Steve pokes. 

He lifts his chin so your kiss lands exactly where he wants it, the stubbly space below his jaw. You wrap your arms around him and hug him severely, squeezing his tender ribs. 

"I wasn't lazy, I had to go save you by myself." 

"Save everybody," the familiar but impossible voice adds. Steve doesn't want to believe it. He refuses to. "Like, an entire generation." 

"I didn't do anything," you say, kissing Steve again, a short path to his chapped lips. "Honey," —your voice lowers, your confession for Steve's ears alone— "I'm so happy you're okay. I was really, really scared." 

Steve feels the weight of your fear like a dumbell on his chest, but he's uber confused. Propping his chin over your shoulder and hugging you back, the evil wound on his arm that caused this whole mess throbbing like fire under his bandage, Steve sets his eyes on the boy sitting on the chair next to yours. 

"Hey, Harrington," Eddie says warmly, eyes dripping with a put upon affection. "Miss me?" 

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Steve asks. 

"Saving the day, obviously." 

"I can't believe I found one of your friends," you say, sitting up a little to smile at him. You really are gorgeous in his eyes, better than any movie star. Your beatific little grin stirs something, but Eddie's snort stomps it dead. 

"We're not friends," Steve says. 

You stroke Steve's face with the back of your hand. "Don't be like that. He's really nice…" Your smile melds itself to a concerned frown. "I thought you were kicking it, Stevie. How's your arm feeling? Does it hurt a lot?" 

"It's fine," he says dismissively, wrapping his stronger arm around your waist. He's not jealous or anything, it's just cold in here, honest. "Munson, where the fuck did you come from?" 

"Right here, Stevie." 

"We're not far from the camp," you explain, stroking his face once again. "Or, we weren't when it was there. We're merging with this one to make a mega camp." 

"Why would we do that? We don't know that we can trust these people." 

"No, but we can trust Hopper." You smile. Steve knows things are gonna be okay, as long as you can smile like that. He leans his cheek into your hand, loved and relieved and– 

"Hopper?" Steve asks. 

"Jesus, Harrington," Eddie says, rolling his shoulders. "Keep up. If you can't comprehend the easy stuff, you're not gonna believe what we haven't told you." 

"What haven't you told me?" Steve asks. 

You push his shoulders down into the pillows. "I think you better lay down first." 

[thatstonedwriter]

˚₊‧🍄[ Pain in the Ass ]🍃˚₊‧

◉ Synopsis; Billy Butcher comforts(?) you as you deal with chronic pain

◉ CW; swearing, chronic pain, mentions of self-medication, references to ableism, Butcher might be a bit OOC (sorry), implied romantic attraction

◉ A/n- I’m still nervous about writing scenarios/short fics but i wanted to try it out since I really like this prompt. Hopefully it turned out alright- enjoy!

You’d done your best- really you had. All morning, quotes from people who thought they knew better, your parents, your own fucking doctors- everybody saying it’s just “mind over matter”- echoing in your head. Classic platitudes you’ve heard since you were younger; people trying to relate, but instead, minimizing your pain.

“Oh yeah I get it- sometimes my stomach hurts, too.”

“Headaches suck but it could always be worse right?”

“You can’t let pain control you.”

“Fuck those stupid God damn- agh!”

Annoyed grumbles turn into a sharp gasp as another wave of pain shoots through your joints. This paired with the stomach/headache combo from this morning was really wearing you down.

And now you were reaching a point of desperation. The medicine you’d been prescribed proved itself useless against the pain today- and sure you could ask for some meds from Frenchie’s stash but… that option should be saved as a last resort. You could ask for help from Hughie, Kimiko or M.M. Surely one of them would be kind enough to pick up more of your prescription or grab you some heating pads- but then again, going out in public could put them at risk. You couldn’t ask them to put their lives in danger for something so trivial.

Never had it crossed your mind to ask Butcher for help. Worst case scenario, he kicks you out of the group for being weak- best case scenario? He says something ableist and leaves you to fend for yourself. No. You’re not dealing with that shit, especially not now.

A knock on the door to your little “bedroom” signaled that a higher power had other plans for you.

“Ya’alright in there, love?” Butcher’s voice, in any other scenario would have been a pleasant surprise- but in this moment of vulnerability? It was like hearing death bells toll.

“Yeah- yep- yep I’m good, thanks.” Your curt reply was not unusual to Butcher, but certainly not preferred. Slightly worrisome, even. You hadn’t come out all morning, and now you’re miffed with him? He hadn’t even done anything to piss you off! Today, at least.

He tries the doorknob, letting out a frustrated huff when it turns out to be locked.

"Trying to let yourself in? See, you're why God made locks."

"Come now, no need for the 'ostility-"

You rolled your eyes as Butcher began his usual spew of excuses, but one in particular caught your attention. It was near the end of his little monologue- softer, quieter, and spoken with a hint of uncertainty.

"and besides… can't have ya crappin' out on us, yeah?"

Even from in your room, you could hear the uncomfortable shuffling of a man unacquainted with emotional vulnerability.

"I'm not 'crapping out' on anyone," you scoff, wincing as more pain sears through your body. "But.. I could use some hel- hey!"

Before you could even finish your sentence, the door "magically" opened- and there Butcher stood, sly smirk on his face, lockpick in hand. He catches your gaze and shoves the pick back in his pocket.

"So then, what seems to be the problem, eh?"

God, it's going to sound so ridiculous when you say it out loud. Compared to what everyone's been through, saying "my tummy hurts" isn't really a matter of urgency.

But it's more than a stomach or headache on it's own. It's more than your joints occasionally aching and popping. It's been every goddamn day for as long as you could remember. Would it really be so wrong to ask for help?

“It’s just been.. pain. All day.”

“Is that all? A’right, where does it ‘urt?”

“…Everywhere. All the time.”

Your response caught Butcher off-guard. He’d been expecting some minor complaints, or even a sarcastic retort about what an ass he was being. The cocky, confident expression was replaced with one of concern as he caught a glimpse of the medications littering the nightstand. Surprisingly enough, they were all your own prescriptions. Probably not strong enough for whatever you were dealing with, Butcher reckons.

“You tried Frenchie’s stash?” he sighs, playful demeanor gone as he goes fishing in his pocket for cigarettes and a light.

“I’m.. saving that as a last resort.”

Butcher lets out a ‘hmph’ as he lights a cigarette, taking a long drag and blowing the smoke out the door.

“What d’ya need?”

“Sorry?”

He takes another drag, this time blowing the smoke out his nose. “Make me a list, I can grab what’cha need.”

It was hard to tell whether or not Butcher was annoyed with you. On one hand, you could appreciate the concern. On the other, it was almost certain Butcher was frustrated with this show of “weakness.” It took you a moment to find the right words- not necessarily wanting to decline the offer, but hesitant to voice your needs.

“You don’t need to grab anything. Meds aren’t helping today, and I can’t ask you to put yourself at risk. But if you’re offering… I wouldn’t mind some company…”

Uneasy silence smothered the room until Butcher finally sighed, dropping his cig on the floor and putting it out before walking into the room, taking long, slow steps. He grabs a nearby chair, loud scraping assaulting your ears as Butcher drags it to the side of your bed, plopping himself down and crossing his arms. More uncomfortable silence envelops the two of you until you decide to speak up.

"You don't have to be here if you don't want to, y'know."

"I know," Butcher mumbles. He glances at you out of the side of his eye, gaze softening as he watches you wince as yet another wave of pain rolls through your body.

Black spots invade your vision as the aching in your body worsens. You let out a low groan, hands gripping the sheets tightly as you wait for this wave to pass.

A larger, calloused hand covers one of yours, startling you enough to open your eyes. Through the black spots, you swore you could see Butcher's hand on yours, thumb rubbing your knuckles softly.

"You'll uh.. You'll be a'right."

You let out a weak laugh at the awkward, but sweet attempt at comfort.

With how little you'd expected from him, this gentle, caring side to Butcher was a welcome surprise. As the pain dissipates, your eyes begin to flutter closed.

"How about ya take it easy today. I'll tell the others not to bother ya, and I'll come back 'n keep ya company." Butcher's voice is soft- unexpectedly considerate.

Nodding weakly, you lean your head back, shifting against the pillows to get comfortable once again.

Butcher squeezes your hand, keeping a firm hold on you as you drift back to sleep.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙏𝙒𝙊: 𝘏𝘐, 𝘐'𝘔… 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘐'𝘔 𝘈𝘕 𝘈𝘓𝘊𝘖𝘏𝘖𝘓𝘐𝘊

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: you meet someone new at your aa meeting and have some conflicting feelings about going out to dinner with spencer.

word count: 2229

warnings: aa meetings, mentions of overdosing, and self-deprecating thoughts, mentions of fainting, and mentions of ambulances.

a/n: HEHE okay, so i don't have much to say about this chapter, just that i'm super happy about the feedback i'm getting. i'm so happy you guys are as excited about this series as i am!! but we get a little looksee inside of how the reader feels about spencer 👀👀

masterlist | series masterlist | AO3

Now picture this.

You’re a bright eyed, bushy tailed twenty something year old artist that’s excited for all that college has to offer.

Then, one day, while your father is standing in the kitchen making dinner, he sways for a moment before hitting the ground with a loud crash, the cutting board he had been stationed over tumbling to the ground with him.

It’s a mess and your mom screams in terror from where she’s sitting next to you on the couch, tears already forming in her eyes as she falls over herself to get to him. You shoot up from where you sit, you’re frozen in place, staring at the scene in front of you paralyzed in shock.

She shouts for you to call an ambulance and you vaguely remember dialing the phone number and speaking to the person on the other end. All you know is that your mom is gently tapping his cheek but he’s not responding. She presses her forehead against his and she begs for him to wake up.

You don’t know what to do. All you can do is stare.

Time is irrelevant as he’s carried out on a stretcher, you and your mother not far behind as you both climb in the back of the ambulance. The lights on top of it glow a bright, blinding red and you see someone run out from the house across from yours, standing in the middle of the road as they watch the entire scene unfold.

The vehicle was moving too fast to get a good look at their face through the door windows by the time you realized it, but you knew it was Spencer.

It’s always been Spencer.

You were nervous.

Today was your first AA meeting and you found your knee bouncing up and down from where you sat in the passenger seat of the car.

“Honey, you’re going to be fine.” Your mom speaks from behind the wheel.

“I know, I know.” You say, yet you shift nervously. “Fuck, I need a cigarette.” You swear, chewing on your nails. “This is a good thing!” Your mother says cheerfully. “New beginnings and all that! Maybe you’ll even meet new people there. Lord knows you need friends.” The last part is mumbled but you heard it.

“Mom!” You exclaim incredulously, looking at her with your mouth ajar. “Sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just… I can’t be your only friend in this, you know that. And those people in there know more about what you’re going through than what I do.” She was right and you knew it.

“Why not?” You whine petulantly. 

She laughs, shaking her head.

It doesn’t take that long to get to the place where the meetings are held, and you stare at it from the window.

“Not that I totally don’t want to get sober, but do I have to?” You turn to your mom with a pleading look. “Jesus, how did you manage to live in New York if you can’t even handle a smaller gathering like this?” 

“I had to stop taking my anxiety meds.” 

Then it clicks and she softens.

“Listen, you’re just going to go in there and listen to other people speak. You don’t have to share anything if you don’t want to, but I want you to at least try and meet new people. Please.” She pleads. You stare at her for a moment before sighing.

“Alright, fine. You’ll pick me up when it’s over?”

“Of course. Now go before you’re late and everyone stares at you.” 

“God you’re the worst.” You groan as you get out of the car. She pauses for a moment before saying, “Good luck!” As you walk away.

AA goes as you had expected it to.

There were fifteen or so people, a little bit bigger than you would have liked, but it was comfortable. No one called on you or forced you to share if you didn’t want to. 

Hearing other people’s struggle was strangely comforting. You hadn’t realized how much your alcoholism had isolated you, separated you from making connections with other people and even yourself. 

Maybe that’s why it’s been hard for you to process the overwhelming feelings you’ve been experiencing lately. You drank to forget and not feeling anything was really just the norm for you. That’s probably why things between you and Luke hadn’t worked out.

Aside from that, you’ve come to learn the names of a few of the pledgers.

The first one was Nikki, a grunge looking Asian-American woman with cropped dyed hair. She ran in a few bad circles when she was younger, grew up in a trailer park and when her girlfriend overdosed in their hotel room, she finally decided it was time to get clean.

Then there was John, an American man with buzzed hair that was an Army Vet that drank to forget the battlefield and chose to get clean after his wife left him. If he didn’t then he wouldn’t get any kind of custody of his kids, let alone visitation.

Then there was Miranda, the oldest AA member that was currently a sponsor. She was a Hispanic woman with a stern demeanor, but she was actually quite kind when she spoke at the podium.

You felt for them all, truly. You found yourself in little pieces of their stories, and it was nice to feel seen.

When the meeting was over, you retreated outside where the other members lingered and talked. You stood off to the side, bringing out your box of cigarettes and sticking one between your lips.

“Can I bum one off you?” You heard someone ask from next to you. Your eyes widened a little at the sight of a suit wearing Miranda, but you stuck the box out towards her, and she took one.

“You got a lighter?” You asked gruffly and she nodded. “Yeah.” She reached into her pocket before you leaned forward into the flame, breathing in the fumes.

“You new?” She asks after her puff. You throw a sidelong glance at her. “Mhm.”

“How’d you like it?” She questions. “Think you’d stick around?” You shrug. “Kinda have too. I got this deal going with my mom; she lets me live with her only if I get my shit together.”

“Sounds like a good woman.” Miranda says, rocking on her heels slightly. She takes another puff before blowing it out. “A great woman.” You admit, taking a drag yourself. “How long have you been around?”

“Two or three years give our take.” She says nonchalantly. “Shit,” You blow out with a whistle. “Good for you.” And you mean it. “Wasn’t easy, but I don’t regret it. I think if you actually commit to it outside of your mom, you’d feel the same.” 

“I’m trying.” You sigh, “But withdrawal is kicking my ass.”

“Ah, the good ol’ days.” She comments sarcastically, but the words aren’t aimed at you. 

“You have a ride home?” She asks after a moment of silence. “Yeah,” You respond, flicking the ash of the burning filter to the ground below. “Cool.” She digs around in her pocket before presenting you a business card with her number on it.

“If you ever need to talk, just give me a call, yeah?” 

“Yeah…” You look up at her. “Thanks.”

Miranda flicks the cigarette on the ground, putting it out with her foot. “See you around.” She says before turning around and walking away.

You follow her, putting out the bud and stomping on it just as your mom’s car swings into view.

Tonight wasn’t a date, just a meal and catching up between friends, but God, why are you so nervous?

You don’t know why you’re so worried about your appearance, but you had changed into three different outfits in the past twenty minutes. You forced yourself to settle for a plain black V-neck shirt and a pair of dark wash jeans that were lost amongst the pile, leaning down to slip on a pair of your plain black Converse.

It was nice but casual. Perfect.

Checking the time on your phone, you had about thirty or so minutes before you had to be there give or take, but you felt restless and wanted to leave early.

Rushing out of the room, you find your mom squished into the crease of the couch with reading glasses perched on her face and her latest crocheting project on her blanketed lap, her knees bent to the side.

“Are you watching Love Island?” You ask with an amused scoff. She directs her attention towards you, ripping her gaze from the TV. “Why yes I am.” She gives you a once-over before nodding her head in approval. “You look nice, are you heading out somewhere?”

“Uh…” You flush. “Yeah… I’m having dinner with Spencer, so I just wanted to know if I could borrow the car tonight?”

“Spencer?” She asks with an intrigued grin. “Since when did you start talking to him again?” You groan. “He came over to see you yesterday when you weren’t home. I invited him in, we talked, and he asked me to dinner.”

“So, he asked you on a date?” She suggests with a wiggle of her brows. “What?” You sputter, “N - no! We're just going to catch up! So, the car, yes, or no?” She laughs aloud, throwing her head back before gesturing to the keys sitting on the coffee table.

“My baby’s all yours, but no smoking in it alright?” She threatens vaguely. You roll your eyes, huffing. “I wasn’t going to anyway. ‘Didn’t want to smell bad.” You say as you reach for the keys. “Oo, wanting to smell good for Spencer I hope?”

“Have I ever told you that you’re the worst?”

“All the time, but you love it.” She relents with a cheeky shrug, her hands resuming their weaving. “I can’t say I don’t.” You say softly. I love you. She smiles gently. “You call me if you need me, yeah?” You nod. “I will.”

“You be safe! And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Or actually you should, might do you some good.”

“You’re relentless!” You shout as you exit the house, but there’s still a smile on your face, nevertheless.

Being able to drive again was therapeutic to say the least, you were always too intoxicated to drive, and you weren’t all that interested in getting a DUI. 

You remember always being the one that drove Spencer and yourself around, the man having preferred things like walking, taking the bus, or the train, basically anything that wasn’t an automated vehicle that he had to operate.

You didn’t like when he’d go on public transport by himself, so you had worked hard to get your license. He had questioned your eagerness to take him to and fro, and it had eased your mind.

Things were so simple back then.

You remember sneaking Spencer over to your house for the first time, convincing him to sneak out with you, then, when you were adults, going out during the nighttime willingly to talk about anything and everything under the stars.

When things were simpler, when you weren’t broken. 

You swallow down the lump in your throat and your nerves begin to itch again.

The cravings were still there, but the cigarettes and routine caffeine from the coffee you drank helped to subside it some. But when you face an emotion like this, the need for a drink shoves itself to the forefront of your mind, begging you to do anything but confront it.

You don’t want it to be like that anymore. You want to feel.

You want to feel happy, reminiscent, wistful, grief, depression, hurt; you want to feel everything that comes with being a human, and maybe sitting down and explaining to Spencer what exactly happened would be a good place to start.

The restaurant is a humble thing, small and quaint, but popular.

You figured that you could go and claim a table since you were early, but you felt rooted to your seat, hands still gripping the steering wheel despite the ignition being off.

Fuck, what are you going to do?

You really, really didn’t want to dive into the heavy shit tonight, but you have no idea exactly how to go about this. So much change can happen in five years – you were the prime example of that – what if he’s someone that you don’t know anymore? You used to pride yourself on knowing everything about him.

But now… now it feels like you have no idea how to start.

You slump back in your seat, hands falling in your lap to pick at your cuticles, your teeth finding home in the flaky flesh of your lips. 

This was Spencer. Spencer who loved Doctor Who and was a total germaphobe. Spencer who already knew how to speak different languages and loved Comic Con and cosplay. He was your Spencer, your genius.

Your Spencer? Where did that come from?

That thought drove you crazy enough to wrench yourself out of the vehicle, slamming the door behind you too harshly. You wince.

“Sorry, girl.” You apologize with a grimace, patting the roof of the car. Good, now you were going crazy talking to your car. Just great.

This was fine, just dandy!

You could do this.

Really, you could!

You think.

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[babygirl-riley]

My Future

“Can’t you hear me…I’m not coming home.”

The solo mission that turned both yours and Simon’s life around.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, blood, violence

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst list

The heartbeat. Thumping. At first it was fast then slowly it became more like a white noise. You leaned against the tree as you watched the snow slowly. The white was beautiful as it surrounded the trees, animals eventually came around after the shooting ended. It was like a painting. Instead you ruined it.

The white around you was more crimson red. Formed around the area you were seated at. You were surrounded, it was suppose to be a scouting mission. Before you warned Laswell about the Russians being stationed at the base that they were led too. Gun shots rang out.

“Shit Bravo 0-9 I’ve been compromised.” You cursed as you dodged as much bullets as you could.

You felt the hit, felt the bullet getting lodged into your arm. It made you fall from the force from it. As you got up your leg went. You panted as you turned shooting your gun hitting a couple of men, they fell cursing the land red. “Bravo 0-9 how copy?” Laswell asked sorry behind her voice.

You grumbled as you got up, trying to get further away from the site. “Copy.” You whispered hissing at the pain.

“What’s your status?”

You inhaled deeply before feeling the same pain from the shoulder and leg. Instead hitting square in the middle of your back. “Fuck!” You yelled smacking into the ground.

You felt nauseated once your face felt the cold sinking into your cheek. Fuck. Fuck. You heard the footsteps crunching closer. You heard the Russian language blaring through their radios. You waited until they came closer having your pistol out, shooting both.

You laid against the tree trying to get yourself to get up. You had to find shelter sooner rather than later. You had to stop the bleeding, needed to get warm. It was getting dark as well, you could get eaten or worse found.

You hissed as you looked over at your radio. Fuck. Busted. You inhaled deeply finally getting up, you held your side feeling the warmth seeping in your hand. It was freezing, you were getting more and more tired. What if no one finds you? You had to leave clues for the team. If they come to you.

You found your med kit and made a quick bandages for all the areas. You hoped that this would hold until helped arrived. At least you would hope they would. You looked around the bodies licking up ammo and knives then headed in your way.

You eventually attempted to carve 141 on trees. Hoping to god they would find it. Find you. You weren’t ready to die. You thought you would have doing this job. Now you couldn’t. Not since you and Simon. Not since you found your future. Your happiness.

“Ya shouldn’ go alone.” Simon mumbled watching you pack a small bag.

“It’s only a couple of days Si, it won’t be bad.” You answered stuffing more clothing in your small bag. “Plus it’s just observing a couple of fumbling idiots far away. Nothing will happen.”

Simon didn’t like the answer you knew that, just how silent he went you knew. He sighed. “You never know if they know you will be there.”

You looked over at him, he want looking at you, arms folded, staring at the blank wall. “No I don’t, we just can’t think like that Si,” He shuffled his face back to you, you knew that look like the back of your hand. He gave it to rookies that knew the answer to a question when they didn’t answer it correctly. You chuckled sighed. “Simon worst case alright? If they know, I will fight like a bat out of hell. You know I don’t go down easy.”

He hummed and walked over to you lifting his mask up to his nose, ghosting over your lips. “If I have to come and save ya, I will beat you myself.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes before giving him a peck. “Yes sir.”

Don’t go down easy alright. You scoffed out loud from that memory. You couldn’t believe that you said that, you jinxed it. Your blood not staying inside you, not following that one order. You were going to die here. Alone.

You tumbled, you sighed and grunted as you hit the snow. It was cold but felt so nice from the heat coming off of you. You laid there for a moment, before scooting yourself up against a tree. You’re going to die right here. Hearing your heartbeat thump too hard to hear anything else. “I don’t want to die yet.” You whispered feeling tears prick your eyes.

You looked up to watch small specks of white falling and hitting the ground around you. It was beautiful, the green peaking through the white. It was like being in a painting. You had to stay focus if you couldn’t move at least stay wake. You inhaled deeply feeling your lip quiver.

“Maybe just a little shut eye,” Yoh felt your eyes growing heavy. You placed your hand on one of the bandages, crimson seeping through. “Damn it.”

That’s when it hit you, the crimson around you was forming bigger and seeping through the white. Like a plague. You inhaled deeply. Fuck. “Just a small shut eye.” You mumbled letting the darkness take over.

You thought you died until you felt a small push cause you to snap awake. You groaned, eyes not wanting to open. “Cap I found her!” The Scottish accent boomed in your ears.

“So-Soap?” You croaked finally opening your eyes, the shine of a light made you snap your eyes shut.

“Fucking hell yer alive!” Soap said cheering laughing as well. “Bravo team she is breathing barely! Lots of blood loss. We gotta get her out of her pronto.”

You looked over at Soap, pleading not to move. You were stiff. Cold. Yet you felt nothing. Not until a warmth soaked through you. Looking down you saw he placed small packs of heating pads on you. Soap looked up as he also was finding the wounds and wrapping them again once blood oozed out.

“Y/n,” You smiled, that voice. That deep beautiful voice. “Hey. Hey look at up love.”

You slowly turned your head the other way noticing Simon placing his gun down looking over at Soap. Soap frowned and shook his head. “Simon.” You whispered.

He was frozen in spot. Soap basically told him you might not make it. He scanned your body most likely has frostbite. Blood was stained everywhere. Your skin paler than normal. Cracked lips. Glossy eyes.

“No talking right now,” He answered starting to pull things out of his kit. “We gotta get ya safe yeah?”

“‘M serious love,” He followed you as you went into the bathroom. “I will beat your arse.”

You chuckled. “Simon I have done this time and time again. It’s like another day on the beach.”

Simon didn’t have a good feeling about this one. Something was off. The intel didn’t look right. Not at least to him. It could be cause yes you were going alone. Yes he didn’t want you hurt. Price warned him before talking to you about the mission. He wanted to go with you but couldn’t. You were the best for this mission.

“I will be home.” You said kissing his cheek. “Then we can go drink whiskey in the city.”

You coughed blood spurting on your lips. “That’s not good.” You whispered leaning your head back.

“No look at me Sargent,” Simon ordered having your eyes flutter to him. God please if there is one have her make it. “Remember we talked about that dog.”

You smirked. “Si,” You coughed again swallowing deeply. “Don’t coy.”

Soap snapped his eyes at his lieutenant. He even knew that Ghost was distracting you from the reality that was setting in. Simon couldn’t think of it. No denying it until you took that final breath. You’ll be fine. He couldn’t loose you. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.

Simon went on about the dog, you mentioned on getting a puppy since both of you agreed on no kids. A puppy would be a start. Being together would be a start. The future would be the start. You knew your future was ending here. You could feel yourself fading. You were in the snow too long. Blood loss. You had no future. He did though. So you let him ramble as you gripped into his sleeve while he worked.

Simon ignored the stare of you and Soap. Deep down he knew. Right now it’s the dog and blood he has to handle. His mind racing on what the future will hold for both of you. It was always something to talk about between the two of you.

The future was always talked about what to do about it and go about it. Never did he think that it would be you bleeding out in the snow. In front of him. Watching his future becoming more dark each small breath you took. Until your hand released his jacket. That his future took a different route than yours.

[halsteadlover]

My Warrior

*Gif not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Pregnant!Reader.

• Requested by anon: Hello! I was wondering if you could do a Jay x pregnant!Reader where she's like in labor but has some complications and almost dies but at the end she is saved ? And Jay is al worried but then he becomes a softy with her being happy 'bout having his daughter/son with them? Angs/fluff, just do it if you want to, if not s'okay.

• Warnings: mention of blood, birth, tiny bit of swearing.

• Word count: 3951.

• A/N: first of all I want to apologize for any grammar error and I’m aware that medically speaking there will be many mistakes but I was too lazy to search it up so bear with me 💀 I hope you’ll like it anyways, comment, like and reblog if you want, it’d be amazing. Thank you for everything and your constant support. I love you all, my inbox is always open if you want to even just talk ❤️

“Jay I think my water just broke.”

From the moment these words came out of your mouth panic set in and if the contractions weren't so painful, you probably would have laughed at the way Jay was running back and forth around the house looking for the bag he had preemptively packed weeks and weeks before.

“Baby where's the bag? Did you see it? I swear I left it here in the bedroom… Oh my god, oh god…” he kept rambling, opening every closet door, even checking under the bed and behind the door.

You approached him just as the contractions stopped and grabbed his arm. “Baby just take it easy, everything will be fine.”

He nodded and took deep breaths as you did so, while you tried not to chuckle. “Okay, okay, I'm fine. Everything will be fine. I’m sorry love, I should be calming you now, how are you feeling now?”.

At the exact moment those words left his lips, a rather intense and painful contraction made you lean forward, your hand squeezing Jay's arm tightly.

“Oh fuck…” you mumbled, eyes closed in pain.

“We’re going to Med's baby, okay? It's okay, it's okay,” Jay whispered, patting your back in comfort but worried sick. He tried to stay as calm as possible, not to go crazy even though he was a complete mess. He couldn't let his emotions get the better of him, you were about to give birth to his child and besides the excruciating pain of the contractions you didn't need to deal with his nervousness.

They prepared you for the childbirth’s pain, how intense the contractions would be, but no pre-natal course, manual or blog would ever really prepare you for how much pain you would have to go through. Your screams echoed throughout the room and you kept praying to God that all that pain would end soon, you just wanted to hug your baby.

Jay never left your side for even a second nor did his hand ever leave yours. He was sitting next to you, you squeezing his hand while he caressed your back even though he figured that gesture didn't help. His stomach was twisted with anxiety, he could hardly believe he was about to finally hug his son, his baby, he couldn’t believe you were about to become a family.

“Please make it stop,” you cried desperately, writhing in the bed.

“I'm so sorry baby, I'd take all your pain if I could,” Jay replied and he meant every single word. He would really rather suffer and take all your pain than see you suffer like that. He hated you were in such an intense pain and he just couldn't do anything to make you better, he hated feeling so useless as he heard the love of his life scream in pain.

“I hate you so fucking much Jay…” you screamed “I swear you’ll never touch me with a fucking finger again!”.

“I know love, it's my fault,” he tried to humor you, stroking your hair.

“And don't say that just to make me happy! I'm not fucking stupid!” anger took over “Stupid fucking men, you have sex, come inside us and we have to suffer like this!”.

Jay tried not to laugh, biting the inside of his cheeks or he knew he’d most likely get killed. He wanted to suffer with you but he cared about his life.

The rest of Jay's team, along with his brother who had been on duty up until then, arrived a couple of hours into your labor but they figured it might not be the time to go in there all together given the way you kept cursing jay and the whole world.

“Okay Y/N here we go. Are you ready to hug your baby?” your gynecologist asked, checking the dilation of your cervix and realizing you were now ready to push.

You nodded and thought it was also time, since you had been in labor for more than twelve hours.

“Is the dad okay? He looks like he saw a ghost,” the gynecologist laughed, noting the pallor of Jay's skin.

“I'm fine, I'm fine, it's finally happening,” he murmured, more to himself than to anyone else.

“Please don't leave me,” you begged, eyes filled with tears and your hand clasped over his.

He kissed your forehead. “I won't leave you baby, don't even say that as a joke. Man, we're about to be parents.”

You nodded smiling through tears. “I'm sorry I told you I hate you, it's not true baby, I love you so much.”

“I know baby, I know,” he kissed your forehead again “I love you so much too.”

Your doctor smiled as she saw the love between you and Jay, the way you looked at each other, the way he kept holding you and comforting you.

Under indication of the doctor, you started to push as you kept thinking you had to hold on, to resist for your baby that you so wanted to hold in your arms, for the little creature you were about to give birth. But you were so exhausted, so damn tired, you didn't know if you'd make it, if you'd hold on much longer.

“Okay now stop pushing, take some deep breaths Y/N, you're doing great,” your gynecologist spoke, and you leaned exhausted into Jay's arms.

“I'm so proud of you baby, so damn proud, I could never do what you're doing,” Jay whispered, kissing your sweaty forehead. He stroked your face, brushing the sticky hair from your forehead and squeezing you like he never did before.

“I can't take it anymore Jay, I'm so tired… I can't take it…” you cried, powerless. Damn it, you never imagined childbirth was such a tiring and exhausting experience.

“Of course you can darling, you're so strong…” he whispered into your ear, kissing your cheek “You're my little warrior. I know you're tired, I know, but you'll rest soon love, one last effort and we can hug our baby okay? Take some deep breaths, can you do it for me baby?”.

You nodded, starting to take deep breaths with him.

When it came time to push again, you really thought you were going to die, a searing pain that felt like it was cutting you in two.

“Very good Y/N, you are amazing, I can see your baby’s little head, we are almost there!” the gynecologist exclaimed “A couple more pushes.”

“You're doing so well baby, I'm so proud of you, one last effort,” Jay said, staring straight ahead as he tried not to pass out at the imagine of the baby’s head coming from inside you.

There was a moment you stopped breathing when your baby was born, the moment you were waiting to hear his cry, which felt like an eternity. It was as if you began to live again when the sound of his crying echoed through the room and you never felt so relieved.

The emotion you felt the moment you first hugged him up was indescribable, a moment that would be etched in your mind for your entire life. You couldn't believe you were finally able to hold him, that he was right there in front of you, healthy and so handsome.

“Our baby,” you whispered, staring at him in awe before returning your eyes to your husband, who, on the other hand, was a walking disaster. He cried all the tears in his system, tears he didn't even know he had and he hadn't felt like this since he saw you walking down the aisle when he was about to marry you.

“Our baby,” he cried, pressing his lips against yours trying to express in that kiss all his gratitude towards you, for giving him the family he had always wanted, a healthy and beautiful son, the love he felt for you.

Jay held you close, his eyes filled with love as he watched the little creature in your arms.

When it was his turn to pick him up he didn't deny he was nervous. He disinfected his hands over and over again, making sure to keep them clean and asking the nurse over and over for reassurance about how he was doing. Of course, he had taken other children in his arms but never so small and his son was so small and fragile he was afraid of accidentally hurting him.

“Hi baby,” Jay greeted his son, who was now stretching in his arms. “You are so handsome buddy, wow, you are definitely a Halstead.”

That comment made you chuckle even though you still felt very weak. You kept watching Jay cuddle your baby in silence until suddenly you broke into a cold sweat.

You brought a hand to your chest, your heart beating so fast it felt like it was about to stop at any moment. You could feel the shortness of breath, your chest rose and fell quickly in an attempt to fill your lungs with air but failing miserably.

Sharp pains ran through your uterus and you couldn't explain why. You were sure what was happening wasn’t normal.

“Jay…” you called him, but your voice was too soft for anyone to hear.

“Y/N? Are you okay? Hey!” Will exclaimed as he looked back at you and noticing the way you were breathing heavily and writhing on the bed. Jay immediately turned to you and his heart nearly stopped in his chest as he saw the state you were in.

Will immediately called for help and nurses quickly arrived, picking up the newborn as Jay was no longer able to hold him.

“What the fuck is going on?! Y/N! Baby!” exclaimed Jay, approaching you but a nurse prevented him, trying to keep him at bay. “Let me go! She's wife! What the hell is going on?!” Jay kept exclaiming loudly.

Will had placed an oxygen mask over your face to help you breathe and his eyes widened as he noticed the huge pool of blood at your belly.

“Call the OR immediately and warn Rhodes we're on our way!” Will ordered under the gaze of his brother who continued to yell at the nurse who prevented him from approaching you.

“Where is my baby?” you whispered, feeling increasingly weak and powerless.

“He's fine, he's safe,” Will reassured you.

“Jay?”.

“I'm here baby, I'm here, it's okay, just hold on for me,” Jay replied quickly and god the relief you felt to hear his voice.

Jay pushed the nurse away, almost making him fall, and ran to your bedside, immediately taking your hand and stroking your hair. “Everything will be fine baby, you'll be fine, don't you dare play tricks on me, you understand me?”.

You wanted to answer but your voice didn’t come out. The lights began to dim, the sounds and noises distant, as you began to drift into shadows and darkness.

“Y/N? Baby? Y/N!” Jay exclaimed in despair when he realized you passed out, no longer responding to any stimulus.

“Jay we need to go to the OR immediately, there's no time to waste,” Will warned after checking your pulse and realizing it was there but it was rather weak. Jay reluctantly let go of your hand and in a hurry they carried you and your bed into the operating room.

Jay walked out of the room, his eyes following you, desperate and in tears.

“Jay what is going on? Where are they taking her?” Kim asked urgently, approaching with the rest of the team when they noticed the commotion that had arisen.

“I…I…” he stammered tearfully, having no idea what the hell had just happened. He was in shock and his mind kept racing on possible scenarios.

“Jay, man, it's okay, take a deep breath,” Kevin walked over to him placing his hands on his shoulders. “What happened?”.

“They're taking her to the OR… She was fine and then she started bleeding… I… I didn't even realize she was feeling bad…” he cried, as the image of you immersed in a puddle of your own blood gasping for air gripped his mind.

“Will! Where is she? Is she okay?”.

Jay was in the waiting room with the rest of the team supporting him. Will joined him, his heart in a vise as he saw the state of anxiety and concern his brother was in.

“Rhodes is still operating her, she lost too much blood but they gave her transfusions and managed to stabilize her,” Will explained “She went into cardiac arrest but they managed to revive her.”

“What? Cardiac arrest?” Jay asked shocked. It couldn't be true, it must all be a nightmare.

How was it possible that you had just given birth to your baby and were now in the operating room fighting for your life.

“Due to the copious bleeding, her blood pressure was very low and the values plummeted. But she's stable now Jay, do you hear me? They pinpointed the source of the bleeding and stopped it.”

“But what happened? Why did she start bleeding? I swear if it was the gynecologist's fault I'll kill that bitch!” Jay exclaimed angrily.

“No Jay, it's not her fault, no one could’ve predicted it, there was a laceration of the birth canal, it's a complication that unfortunately can happen.”

Jay ran his hands over his face in frustration, feeling distract by everything that was going on. He pulled away feeling suddenly overwhelmed by events, as if he was losing every ounce of strength.

“Jay, listen to me brother,” Will joined him then placing a hand on his shoulder “Y/N is strong, she'll make it, you know she's in good hands. How about I walk you to the maternity ward to go meet little Halstead and I’ll go back to the OR? I will update you on everything that happens.”

Jay felt terribly guilty about what had happened because he felt like he had abandoned his son when he needed him instead.

“Hey little man” Jay whispered after picking up his son “I am so sorry I disappeared so suddenly but mum has been feeling unwell and I wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

He tried to hold back the tears, still praying with every fiber of his being for your recovery.

“She'll be fine I'm sure, your uncle Will is with her now and he'll be back soon okay?” he kept cradling his baby gently in his arms, never taking his eyes off him for even a second.

“You and mom are my life you know that right? The best thing that ever happened to me, seriously buddy I don't know how I would’ve ended if I hadn't met your mum,” he spoke, as if little Halstead could understand him “I still remember when I first met her: it was a rather particular first meeting because it was when in a moment of distraction, at a traffic light, she rear-ended me with the car. She's always been so clumsy, I hope you don't get that from her,” he chuckled “Anyway, she had rear-ended me, she got out of the car and started apologizing furiously, wrote her name and number on a piece of paper telling me she would pay every cent of the damage. I wasn't even mad, God, she was so beautiful, the way she babbled and stuttered, I think I was captivated by her from the start. I didn't care about my car, I just wanted to see her again and that's why I called her back the next day with the excuse of an agreement. I asked her out that same day and well… the rest is history,” he smiled as his mind replayed the memories of your first date, of the first moments you spent together, “I understood right away I was going to marry that woman, that I would’ve never been able to even look at another person who wasn't her. I don't know what she did to me, but dear god, I still love her like I did many years ago and now you're here little one… Shit, I don't think I could be happier than this…”

He took a moment to look at his son, to admire the creature you and him created together..

When he met you never in his life he would’ve thought of loving someone as much as he loved you, he thought his heart would not have been able to welcome another love but, God, seeing that little angel in his arms, his son, he felt completely overwhelmed by the love that little boy only a few hours old had made him feel.

“I already love you so much buddy, more than anything in the world and I swear I will give my life to protect you and your mommy, to keep you safe from this sometimes so cruel world,” he whispered “Don't say mom I said a bad word in front of you or she'll kill me,” he giggled, sniffling as he continued to cry. “You know, you're so lucky to have a mom like her. She is the kindest, purest, most selfless person I've ever met in my life, and I already know she’ll give all of herself to make you happy. It will be a bit tough, I won't deny it, there will be misunderstandings and I ask your forgiveness for when this will happen. Parents aren't perfect, damn little man, mine were the furthest thing from perfect, but never forget we love you more than our own lives, that nothing will ever be more important than you, and that everything we do, even if you disagree with us, will be for your good. I promise I’ll try so hard to be the father that mine wasn’t for me and I’m sorry for when I’ll be wrong, I hope you’ll be able to understand my love.”

“Oh my baby I need your mom so much now…” he continued in a sigh that ended in a sob. He felt a void so deep and painful, a void only you could fill. Jay couldn't exist in a world where you weren't in, a world where he was supposed to get up in the morning and you weren't lying asleep next to him. You were the only person in the world who really knew him, who knew his secrets, his deepest fears, you were the only person who made him happy, who could understand his moods with just a glance, the only one who could pick up his pieces and put them back together when the world seemed to tear him apart.

Jay spent the next two hours with his son, feeding him with the nurses’ help while Will updated him every twenty minutes on the progress of your surgery.

“Jay,” Will called back to his brother who was sitting next to his son’s crib, “The surgery is over, everything went well.”

Jay almost had a heart attack with joy, and taken by the impetus of the moment he ran to his brother and gave him a warm hug. Will smiled and returned that hug.

“Where is she? Is she fine? When can we see her?” he asked frantically.

“You couldn't, but I know nothing and no one is going to stop you so you go but only for ten minutes, am I understood?”.

He nodded, a toothy smile plastered on his face. “I promise.”

“I'll take care of him,” Will answered the unspoken question of his brother, who kept alternating his gaze between his child and Will.

“Don't you dare leave him alone okay?”.

“Don’t you know me at all brother? Now go, I want to spend some time alone with my beautiful little nephew, I haven't had the chance to say hello yet.”

“Thank you so much Will, you’re the best.”

You tried to open your eyes but the blinding light of the room forced you to close them.

It took you some time before they got used to it while instead your mind retraced the events that happened.

You felt groggy from the anesthesia and medications so it took you a while to realize you were in a hospital room.

What happened?

I gave birth.

Where is my baby? Is he fine?

You tried to lift yourself up, failing miserably when you felt a sharp pain go through your abdomen.

“No, no, no, stay still baby don't try to get up,” you felt someone caressing your arms and a voice that you immediately recognized belonged to your husband. You turned your head towards him and it was so nice to see him again.

“What happened? Where is my baby? Tell me he's okay.”

Jay hugged you, being careful not to hurt you or put too much weight on you. “He's fine, he's with Will now,” Jay explained in a low voice “I was so scared Y/N.”

You hugged him back, inhaling his scent deeply.

“You had an uterine hemorrhage… You had a surgery…” he continued but suddenly stopped. You were about to speak when you heard a soft sob and at that point you realized he was crying.

“Hey, hey, baby, look at me,” you whispered, pulling away from the hug only to then gently place your hands on his face now streaked with tears, “I'm fine my love, everything was fine. Please don't cry.”

“I was so scared of losing you,” he whispered “I don't know what I would’ve done without you…”

You kissed him, pressing your lips against his in a kiss with which you tried to express all the love you felt for him and to calm him down.

“You will never get rid of me Mr. Halstead.”

He giggled through tears. “Don't even joking about that Mrs Halstead, I can't even imagine living in a world where you are not in. Don't ever do that to me again do you hear me? You made me worry to death.

“Okay, I'll try not to bleed out next time,” you laughed, but a twinge of pain made you stop. “Damn it hurts.”

“I'm sorry baby,” he kissed your forehead, stroking your hair as he did “You were so strong today my little warrior, try to rest now you deserve it.”

“I want to see my baby, can you bring him here?”.

“Sure love, I'll tell Will.”

You began to cry when you picked up your son, venting all the fear, tension and worry that had overwhelmed you that day. Nonetheless, however, it was worth it. All the morning sickness, the sleepless nights, the perennial back pain, the wrenching and debilitating contractions, you would’ve done it all over again just to be able to see that little face again for the first time.

After Will said goodbye and left you and Jay alone, he sat on the bed right next to you, grinning like an idiot as he saw his son's mother and his baby together. God, he couldn't have made a better choice for the mother oh his kids.

“Look at him baby, he's so handsome,” you whispered, still looking at your little boy.

Jay put an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as he planted a kiss on the top of your head. “He got it from his mom.”

He brought his free hand close to the little ones of his child and his heart exploded with joy when that little hand grabbed his index finger, squeezing it.

“Thank you for giving me the best gift I could ever ask for, I love you so much baby,” Jay spoke softly, promising himself he would do everything in his power to return this gift and love you with everything he had but also realizing not even a lifetime would be enough to make up for the blessing you gave him. A family.

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[kitthepurplepotato]

Chapter 13 - You are my Number One.

Summary: Katsuki is more freaked out about Y/N’s appointment than Y/N herself.

Warning: Swear words, nothing too cheeky this time!

First Chapter Master List

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It’s 5AM in the fucking morning but Katsuki is already freaking out.

He’s not worried. He has no reason to be; he’s not a fucking doctor but he knows there is no way Y/N’s appointment will bear anything but good news; she’s healthy and full of energy, her movements are back to normal even without the meds, so really, there is no reason for him to be a big ball of anxiety right now.

No reason.

But… he still can’t stop spiraling about the ‘what if’s.

What if she only looks fine and after a few tests the doctor decides to put her back on the meds? His woman is strong, the strongest person in the world but she would break down to hear that after all the work she’s done to get better.

What if the doctor tells him to wait another year before she goes back to actual hero work? Again, she would loose her shit. She would probably burn the whole hospital down out of frustration. Katsuki is not a big fan of rescue missions and it’s also way too fucking early for that shit. He does miss the adrenaline of being on the field but he definitely does not miss the smell of burnt flesh and he might be the number two hero, but he definitely can’t save more than 3000 people in one go, especially as at least half of them are disabled and incapable of running.

“Woman.” Katsuki shakes his still sleeping girlfriend with a manic face. “Whatever happens today you can NOT burn the hospital down.” He yells with a serious face but his woman only snorts at him.

“The fuck, Katsuki?” She laughs and oh god, he absolutely fucking loves her sleepy little laugh. “Why are you the one freaking out? You look I just went into labor.” Honestly, Katsuki wishes that was the case. Even though, now that he said that, Y/N would probably burn the hospital down due to her frustration from being in so much pain for so long. Okay, no kids for Katsuki then. It’s a small sacrifice for the greater good. “What the fuck are you muttering about?” She giggles at him so Katsuki decides to change the topic by pushing a big cup of coffee into his girlfriend’s hands. It works every time. Nothing is more important than a morning coffee. Not even mass murder. Good.

Katsuki feels like he’s about to throw up. His face must be really pale as the Menace looks at him with worry etched into her features.

“We need to leave in twenty minutes, hurry up.” Katsuki makes a hard turn and stomps towards his dresser to find something normal. What do people wear to hospitals at all? His usual attire in a hospital usually consist of a hero suit soaked through with his own blood. Or ridiculously oversized trousers and a hoodie three times the size of him topped up with a cap and a face mask or at least that’s what he used to wear when he was forced to go to therapy.

This time, Katsuki wants to look… well… proper. He’s not going there alone, he’s going with his partner, his future wife (probably?!), the woman he’s so fucking proud of; he wants her to be proud of him too. It’s stupid, he knows, but somehow, it feels like this is important; this is the first time they attend an important appointment together. This is the first time he’s going to be seen as Y/N’s boyfriend. Katsuki feels like he’s about meet her parents or some shit.

“You don’t need to come with me, I’ll be fine alone.” She mutters, but that’s the last thing Katsuki wants to do.

“Do I fucking look like I’m capable of sitting on my ass right now, you idiot?” Katsuki lashes out. “I want to be there, I want to hold your hand and shit. I want to… fuck, I want to be there with you. I want to share the burden. You see, I’m already freaking out so you don’t have to. You can just giggle and be fucking adorable while I shit my pants. I’m perfectly fine with that.”

“Katsuki, you don’t make any sense but… thank you?” She giggles again and Katsuki swears he would be able to survive without water and food and get his nutrients from Y/N’s laughter instead. He’s so fucking fucked, isn’t he?

“Put some clothes on and let’s go.” Katsuki takes a plain black T-shirt and some tight jeans out of his dresser and makes a beeline to the bathroom. “If you don’t have proper clothing on by the time I come back you are going to the hospital in your pajamas.” Katsuki threatens but it doesn’t have an edge.

“Roger that, boss!” Y/N salutes before Katsuki slams the bedroom door aggressively.

~•💥•~

“Keep your eyes on the road, Kats, I won’t disappear.” You smile at your boyfriend who’s absolutely freaking the shit out right now, for no reason at all. It’s a little bit endearing.

You always knew he cares so much more than he’s willing to admit; he’s secretly a big softie for all his friends, even though he does nothing but yell at them all the time, but this is the first time Katsuki feels safe enough to actually show his affectionate side to anyone else and it makes you so fucking proud to be on the receptive side of it even if it’s a tiny bit annoying.

You don’t want to know how has Katsuki felt when you were gone for a day of this is how he reacts to a doctor’s appointment. Maybe you should thank Todoroki and Midoriya for keeping him alive while you were away back then.

“Technically…” Katsuki is about to give you shit and go all nerd on you, but you don’t let him finish.

“Technically, I can disappear, yes, but it doesn’t matter if you stare at me or not, I can literally do that anyway.” You retort scoldingly.

“Sorry, I’m just really fucking worried.” Katsuki sighs, his eyes finally back on the road. You sigh and move your your hand to caress the blond’s thigh, drawing soothing circles on his jeans to calm him down.

“You have no reason to be. It’s over, Katsuki. I’m over it and I know I won this fight, I just need a stupid paper from the doctor that makes it official. I trust my gut and my gut tells me I’m good. Don’t you trust me, KitKat?”

Katsuki visibly shakes at the new nickname you just gave him; thank god you two were waiting for the light to turn green, otherwise he would’ve caused an accident by stepping on the brake so suddenly.

“What’s with you and your stupid nicknames?” Katsuki mutters with the most adorable pout on his flushed little face.

“I can’t help it, you are so fucking cute.” You giggle and Katsuki is about to explode out of embarrassment when a loud honk coming from behind startles you both; the light turned green and you didn’t realize. Oh fuck.

“You are insufferable.” Katsuki mutters in front of himself and the rest of the ride is silent. You know your boyfriend well enough to know that nothing will calm him down right now anyway, so you just let him mutter to himself for the rest of the journey.

For your surprise, Katsuki intertwines his fingers with yours right when you stand by his side after the ride. His hold is downright painful, but you decide to not speak up about it; Katsuki clearly needs this right now and seeing him so stressed about something that doesn’t even affect him in any way makes you realize how important you are for him. Bakugou Katsuki can’t seem to stop surprising you these days, in a good way.

“Hello.” Katsuki mutters at the entrance; it looks like it literally pains him to be nice to someone else for once, but he does it anyway. Why? You have no fucking idea. Katsuki looks at the amused lady at the front desk with a constipated face. “Appointment. For Y/N.” Katsuki mutters again, his face red as a tomato. You don’t have the heart to tell him that he doesn’t need to do this at all as everyone knows your face by now.

“End of the hallway, right side, 235. Good luck!” The lady gives you a thumbs up and you can barely smile back as Katsuki is already pulling you towards the fore-mentioned door. He knock three times aggressively and the door opens; the nurse’s face pales at the sight of the number two hero towering against her at 6AM in the fucking morning.

“Ahh, Y/N! Come on in, your guest can wait in the waiting room until we finish!” The nurse gives Katsuki a forced smile, already knowing there’s gonna be drama.

“I’m not a fucking guest, I’m her boyfriend! I took care of her fucking ass this whole week! I should be allowed to come in!” Katsuki almost yells at the poor nurse, but his voice gets quieter as he finishes his sentence. Fuck, he’s trying so hard.

“Sir, I understand but we need your girlfriend’s full attention. We need to do some tests as well today. Please, take a seat outside.” She points at the bench on the hallway. “Would you like some tea, or some coffee? We have some pastries as well if you are hungry!”

Wow, you do get a different treatment when you are the number two hero in the country.

“Do I look like I need caffeine, woman?” Katsuki mutters under his nose, his hands still in yours. “Just fucking… go…” the blond mutters, slowly letting you free from his grasp.

“I’ll be fine. I love you.” You hug your boyfriend tightly, hoping he can feel how grateful you are for everything. The nurse steps back into the office and leaves the door open for you to come in when you are ready. You didn’t miss the tiny fond smile on her face as she left.

“You are invincible. Whatever fucking happens today… you are… you are my number one.” Katsuki’s head is about to explode. Your heart skips a beat.

“I’m the luckiest fucking bitch to walk this Earth. Fuck, Katsuki.” You can’t stop yourself from jumping on him and kissing him fiercely in the middle of the thankfully empty hallway like your life depends on it. It takes him a few seconds to reciprocate but when he does it gets even harder to let him go; he kisses you with the same fervor, his touches hot and full of desire. He pulls away rather abruptly, takes a few deep breaths then he finally speaks up:

“Go before I devour you in the middle of this stupid hallway that smells like cheap bleach.”

“I’ll be out before you know it.” You smile and leave a last, lingering kiss on the blond’s lips before you close the door on his cute, anxious face. You’ve never been into the whole marriage thing but you kinda want to elope with him right here, right now.

“Let’s get this over with.” You sigh as you sit down in front of your doctor, who can’t hide his amused face as he takes in your red lips and disheveled hair.

“I really want to tell you off for coming to my office looking like that but I’m actually quite impressed. So who’s the lucky guy?” The doctor smirks at you; your cheeks flush, making you look like a ripe tomato but he only laughs at that.

“See it for yourself after we are done here, sir.”

This is it. This is fucking it.

Oh shit, you haven’t been anxious at all before but now it kicks you in the face as you take in your doctors office, the white walls and all the equipment he’s about to use on you.

“Whatever happens, you are my number one.” Katsuki’s words play in your head like a mantra as your body slowly lets go of all the tension that suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

It doesn’t matter what the doctor says; it might sound super cheesy but even if you can never be a hero again, having Katsuki by your side, saving people for the both of you is more than enough for you.

So this is what people call “love”. It’s so powerful it changes even the strongest, most determined people.

You can’t help but giggle to yourself from your own silly thoughts.

You really are the luckiest person in the world, aren’t you?

… Next chapter!

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Potato ramble:

- This story is about end in a few chapters. I gave this a lot of thought and I realized I don’t need to write down every single idea I had for this one otherwise this story will never end and I have so many other stories in my head I want to share with you all, so I made the executive decision to try to finish this in 5 chapters (you guys know me though, that will be 10 lol).

- My plan is to finish this one, take a bit of a break and continue posting only the Deku one for a few weeks then come back with the Kirishima spin-off and then later with a new Katsuki x Reader series. I already have a few chapters ready for both but I’m trying to aim for having almost the whole thing written out before I start posting to not overwhelm myself but I might change my mind about that as I really enjoy to hear your thoughts and add some things you want to see and I absolutely love to listen to your feedback and make the next chapters more enjoyable. It’s hard to be an adult, I just wanna write and read your comments 24/7 😂

- Ah, also! I got over excited and I already have edited the header for the Kirishima spin-off! I hope you like it!

Yes, there is a typo in it, I’ll sort that out later shut up 😂

- I hope you guys had a lovely week and sorry for being so late; I got some bad news from the doctors and it messed up my head a little bit, I also did several extremely early shifts in a row and was dead tired in the afternoon so I had a hard time writing this week. Next week will be even worse so yeah… sorry in advance 😂

TL: @sixxze @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @hanatsuki-hime @cloroxisadelectabletreat @cheesenmax @coffeent @smolsleepybat @therealpotatobish @qardasngan @canarystwin @unofficialmuilover @nanamomo1 @mikestuffffs @p4ndawrites @yao-ai

[pygmi-cygni]

T Minus 9

T minus ten part 2

(the way i stopped writing for ten minutes just to watch this gif over and over) (no i don't need help)

chapter warnings: language, medical inaccuracies, panic attacks, some angst, miscommunication, sassypants Miguel, we're getting somewhere guys i swear pls bear with me-

read part one here

You stared owlishly at the outstretched claw, the razor sharp edge gleaming in the hospital lighting.

Miguel's gaze was simmering. It would take nothing for him to sever your hand from your wrist, leaving a knob of bone and his glittering sneer. You felt heat building underneath your clothes. You didn't want to be rude and back away, but god if he got any closer-

You took a shaky breath. "Um..I...I need your actual arm, Mr. O'Hara, could you-"

A terrified lurch capsized your stomach as he effortlessly slashed the cage to pieces. This time you couldn't hold back a yelp. Standing now, you appraised him from a few feet away. The wall was the only thing keeping you from sprinting towards the other side of the planet.

Tension thrummed between you. You knew he was mad, and couldn't blame him. Not sure if he was mad at you or if you just happened to be the only person available, you debated whether or not small talk was appropriate. But given the way he responded earlier...

Be seen and not heard.

Slowly, you stepped towards his bed. Acutely aware of the carmine glare smoldering through your cheek, you tried to move efficiently. As you were carefully arranging yourself around the numerous cords, a small movement caught your eye. Confused, you looked up.

A gleam of white, and sharp fangs snapped an inch from your ear.

Shrieking, you stumbled back and threw the syringe across the room.

Oh my fucking god I'm going to die holy fucking shit what the fuck-

"What the fuck?" Your shriek shattered the tense silence.3

You could barely focus on the man in front of you over the hammering of your heart beat. A fuzziness started tickling your head. Don't pass out don't pass out. Collapsing, you shuffled to put your head between your knees.

Breathe. In, out. In, out.

That was closer than you ever wanted to be to a pair of fangs. Peeking from between your fingers, you saw the mountainous Spiderman hunched, shoulders twitching.

Was he laughing? If this motherfu-

The alarmed beeping of his heart monitor shocked you to your feet. Not laughing. Seizing.

Desperately clearing the terrified fog from your mind, you fumbled for the help button and tried to assess Miguel. He was groaning and hissing as warm crimson was covering his torso.

In his haste to bite your cheek off, he'd torn the tourniquet holding the rebar in place. Though the spear hadn't been removed, it was secured in place to prevent further damage. The pain meds must have been so strong that he didn't notice it. Until now.

An animalistic growl tore through the med bay. His claws tore through the mattress, his pained yowling making your ears ring.

Oh shit-

You scrambled towards the door, snatching up the syringe on your way. The alarms were already flashing, and you could hear the quick footsteps of your staff.

"He woke up, I don't know what to do-"

The crowd pushed around you, frantic shouts echoing in the long hallway. Techs, guards and nurses flooded Miguel's room. You could hear his roaring and caught a glimpse of vicious fangs in the bright lights.

In another rush of activity, a sedative was delivered and everybody tensed. Slowly, slowly, his breathing calmed and his eyes rolled back. Maria sobbed with relief. His claws had frozen an inch from her soft cheek. She stumbled back, safely out of reach.

You stood, shell-shocked, as the nurses ushered out of the tiny room. Dr. Ben stared stoically at you, nodding sharply in the direction of his office.

"Now."

Your eyes didn't move from the floor, feeling like a shamed puppy. Dr. Ben had finished his speech and was glaring daggers at your hidden face.

"Do you have anything to say?"

An embarrassed twinge choked your throat. No, you didn't. What was there to say? You'd entered a dangerous patient's room without clearance and hadn't had proper protection. Whatever happened had technically been your own fault.

"Did..." you swallowed down the ache, "did his injury worsen after?"

Dr. Ben let out a long sigh through his nose. Marching over to the main screen, he pulled up Miguel's file.

"Mild tearing across lower left pectoral as a result of aggravated activity," he read stonily.

Shit.

"I'm sorry, I didn't...he lunged at me and I got scared."

Dr Ben removed his glasses, rubbing his tired eyes. An awkward silence ticked between you as he tried to explain the situation.

"We've...." he sighed heavily, grimacing. "We've found some things out. And I was meaning to tell you before the whole thing," he gestured towards the med students fixing the broken chair, "but clearly that didn't happen.

"The poison has been determined as non lethal, but if he's exposed to it for too long, it'll deteriorate his muscular tissue. He's clear so far, and the damage has been minimal, but any longer than...a month, and some issues might arise."

A month? That was so much time. "What do you mean a month? This kind of thing will be resolved-"

Ben cut you off and pulled up a chart.

"See his bloodwork? The kind of spider DNA he's been spliced with responds negatively to basically everything we can prescribe," he explained. you frowned, leaning closer.

"The labs have created a treatment, but it's diluted and he can't handle more than a small dose at a time."

You sat back, releasing a tentative sigh of relief. Treatment was treatment, and if it meant you wouldn't be in biting range for much longer, you were all for it.

"The downside is, it sets his treatment trajectory at around two months."

"Two months?" You shouted, rocketing to your feet. Dr Ben frowned at your outburst. Stay professional, good god. Words escaped you. This monster would be haunting your med bay for two fucking months?

HQ would be missing their leader for two months.

A heavy, oily dread trickled in your chest. Miguel was the blood and soul of the Spider Society. He literally had the entire world on his shoulders. Nobody even knew half the things he had to do to keep it running. If he wasn't at full working capacity for that long, who knew what would happen?

The chair wheezed as you collapsed backwards. This was insane.

"How..." you sighed again. "How...the fuck are we gonna keep this together? We can't just tell everyone that our leader is basically dead to the world-"

"No." Ben cut you off again, an uncharacteristic fury in his eyes. "This will not be addressed to the Society. There is no reason to work everybody up for something that will be over in ten weeks. Miguel can still work, he will just need a medical aide and frequent breaks." He held up a finger at your indignant scowl.

"I'm not finished. I propose that you administer the medicine twice a day and monitor his progress. The only, and I mean singular reason for anybody other than the two of us to know about this would be his death."

All the air in your lungs rushed out in a Fuck. That was...a really big deal. Did you want that job? Hell no, Miguel had literally almost turned you into a chew toy thirty minutes ago. But if you didn't, who would? And then...you shuddered to think.

"Okay...so...how does it work?" Focus on the work, not on him. He's just a patient.

Two doses of 120 mg every twelve hours. One in the morning and one delivered via IV in the middle of the night. A simple routine that only needed charting the immediate our before and after administering. You'd had harder times taking care of the flu. This wasn't hard.

Why am I so stressed?

Maybe it was the shade of red that glowed beneath dark lashes. Maybe it was the vicious snap of his fangs a breath from your cheek. Maybe it was the utter hatred that his gaze ensnared you with.

Focus. Breathe. Only ten weeks. that's seventy days.

Your eyes shot open. Seventy-

Breathe.

"You start tonight at 1800 sharp."

Fuck.

The slam of the office door cracked your remaining resolve. A sob wracked your chest, and you cried into your jacket.

Maria found you later, sat on the floor of your shared apartment. Miguel's file was strewn about, papers haphazardly stacked and shoved into color-coded folders. A tablet and a laptop were open, live updates of his monitors relaying data across the screen. You were passed out, a half-eaten bowl of soup gone cold in your lap.

"Psst," she hissed, gently shaking your shoulder. You scowled gently in your sleep, wrinkling your nose. She tried again, more urgently.

"Ffuck you wan'?" you mumbled, batting her hand away to rub sleep from your eyes. The dim room blearily came into focus. Maria peered down at you, brow creased.

"It's 1730," she hissed again, "Ben wants you down for a briefing!"

1730? Who gives a fuck what time-

"Miguel." You tripped over your bowl of soup, nearly covering the carpet in minestrone. Maria rolled her eyes and threw a keycard at you. You hurriedly thanked her and bolted.

Of all the times to sneak in a nap.

You were glad for the study break, though. Hours of tediously inspecting X-rays and blood samples were beginning to fry your already exhausted mind. At least the situation was starting to make sense.

Dr Ben was understandably irritated when you showed up exactly thirty seconds before 1800. Not late yet, your defiant gaze smirked. Gritting back an insult, he pointed you to the syringe and IV setup on the counter.

"you'll do a wrist drip and administer the meds after he eats. It needs to be taken after he eats at least one meal and drinks a half liter of fluids. No alcohol, caffeine or pain meds. Capiche?"

you nodded, brushing him away to begin setup. It wasn't a difficult system, he was being oddly frenetic.

Maybe because Miguel would slit his throat if he got it wrong.

This was your patient. Get it together.

hot breath gleaming bone s n a p sharp-

Stop.

Shakily trying to calm your racing heart, you brought the prepared meds out to the white room. Ben watched, lips pursed, giving you an impatient nod to continue. Breathe. Breathe.

The restraints had been removed; instead, Miguel had been knocked unconscious with a sedative intended for hippos. He was out cold.

He can't touch you he can't hurt you just be quick-

Breathe.

"I can do this," you whispered, snapping on a pair of nitrile gloves. Miguel's breath was wheezing, you realized, a soft rasp that indicated his injury was worse than you thought.

It must have grazed his ribs and his lungs.

Focus.

ten weeks

Focus.

we'll die if he does

"Focus!"

You blanched, realizing you'd screamed out loud. Praying to anybody up there, you peeked at Miguel. Still asleep.

A sigh of relief.

You were halfway through inserting his IV before you heard it.

A groan.

His eyes were still closed, but his heart monitor had noticeably spiked and the blankets were rustling around his other arm. you still had to give him the meds and his fluids and take his vitals and holy fuck he's waking up

You froze. The eye contact was blistering, despite his bleariness. He studied you. Flashes of something you couldn't identify flickered across his face as you stood like a deer in headlights. The needle hovered centimeters from the back of his hand.

His claws were absent, though he was gripping the sheets for dear life.

You took a deep breath and tried to neutralize your face.

"I'm...I'm gonna prick you just a li-little, okay? Try not to-"

He hissed and yanked his hand away from your gentler ones, all drowsiness gone. Pure hatred had return to his gaze. You tried not to wilt. Why is he so difficult?

"Miguel," you tried again, patiently, "please-"

"No." His voice was wrecked, twisting his harsh response into something that curdled your blood.

you were beginning to tremble. Afraid of dropping the syringe, you set it down and swallowed. don't bite don't bite don't bite please oh shit

"I don't wanna..." your voice broke. Tears clogged your throat and you felt the urge to vomit. Panic had dug its claws into your head and wasn't letting go. Calm down calm down breathe

If you freak out, he's gonna freak out. Stay in control. Stay in control.

The whole time you were grappling with your sanity, Miguel was watching shrewdly. As soon as you released the syringe, his fists unclenched. you gulped in air, trying to stay as discreet as possible.

A patient had never rattled you this much. It shocked you. Your patience was unrivalled, and the ability to stay calm in these situations was commendable.

Why now were you crumbling?

When Miguel's gaze shifted away, an ounce of pressure lifted from your chest. Be quick be quick be quick-

You swiftly took up the syringe and made a grab for his hand.

too slow-

He snapped his teeth again and tore away, ripping out the IV. A broken gasp made you drop the needle.

Both of you retreated, you to the far corner and him to the confines of the little cot.

"Wh-wh-why..." you were muttering fearfully, rubbing your arms for comfort. Tears were falling steadily now, streaking your cheeks. Snot made you choke. you were burning with shame and fear like a sniveling child chased by a big dog.

A low ringing made you wince. Breathe. You were getting lightheaded. Breathe. Five things you can see.

A few deep breaths later, and the world stopped tilting. Your heart settled enough for you to stand shakily, still pressed into the corner.

You assessed the scene in front of you. The syringe was destroyed, and the dose was unsalvageable. A spare was tucked into your pocket, thankfully. Miguel was heaving, spittle flecking his cheeks. Like a rabid dog.

A rabid, terrified dog.

What was he afraid of? He was three times your size, and you weren't small. Though you spent ample time at the gym, he could snap you like a twig. Even in his state he had the advantage.

The needle.

He was afraid of needles.

Well.

The medicine couldn't be given orally, so he'd need it put in an IV. ...The IV he just ripped out of his arm. Placing a new one was out of the question, due to the obvious needle involved. You breathed in through your nose.

New plan.

Your gaze caught on the slow trickle of blood from his arm where the tubing had been removed. Start small. Taking gauze from your pocket and a small tube of ointment, you held them out in front of you.

"I'm going to patch that, okay? Just some ointment, it doesn't even sting." Your voice was light, careful. Like handling the younger patients. You can do this.

Miguel made no move to stop you as you tiptoed closer. You didn't take your eyes off of him, gesturing for him to give you his arm.

He didn't budge.

It's okay. Start small.

Gently, you ran your fingers up his tan forearm, stopping at his elbow, then going back. the wound was small but deep. Miguel was gritting his teeth and glaring daggers at you. You didn't react, patient as ever. The angle was awkward; his twisted torso angled his arm so you had to reach across the bed.

Your chest was very exposed to his claws, but you had more important issues.

"Lay back," you whispered, "you'll exacerbate the wound again." He scowled harder, hissing in Spanish.

"Miguel. Please. Just...straighten out."

After a long moment the pain began to register on his face. He shifted marginally, and you let out a relieved breath. Progress.

You bandaged his wound efficiently, keeping your movements light and gentle. His grip slowly released on the sheets. You ignored the holes his talons had carved along the mattress.

"I don't like needles either," you said quietly, tucking the soiled gauze into a disposable bag. He didn't answer, but you saw the look of surprise on his face.

"I used to take shots because I got sick all the time," you explained, moving to grab your tools, "I never got used to them."

He didn't answer. That was okay, he wasn't scowling anymore. You took this as a green light, placing the pressure cuff around his enormous bicep.

Your heart was steady, tears dried on your face. Okay. We're okay.

"You have tattoos."

His question made you jump, nearly crushing your pencil. His lips lifted amusedly to reveal a shiny canine.

s n a p hot breath scream-

You stepped back, swallowing bile. He must have noticed your fear, because he dropped the smirk and scowled again, looking at his lap. Stupid stupid calm down, you've pissed him off.

"I got over it," you rushed to say, wanting to relieve his grumpiness. "I...I don't know, I guess I liked the design more than the needle."

He just nodded sharply, still looking away. No dice.

Back to square one.

You finished his vitals, but the elephant in the room reared its ugly head. He needed his meds. Clearly the pain was getting to him. Miguel's forehead was dotted with sweat, and his abs were quaking from the cramps. A sickly pallor dulled his warm complexion. You had to be fast.

"I...I'm sorry. I know that doesn't...help, but you need to just let me-"

"No," he spat again, teeth gleaming. "I'll get on without it."

You couldn't believe his aloof tone. He was so selfish, for someone with your survival in the palm of his hand.

"No, Miguel," you said sternly, "you can't."

His gaze was incredulously infuriated.

"Your muscles are dissolving as we speak. In a month you won't be able to stand up." Your voice was raising. He needed to understand. He needed to know how bad this was.

"Then I'll work sitting down."

"Don't be stupid! you are the reason any of us are here, and because you're too afraid of a stupid fucking needle you're willing to sacrifice-"

"Don't you dare talk about sacrifice before you've-"

His scathing response was capped with a yell. Impulsively, you'd stabbed the syringe into his pliable chest, right above his heart.

The silence was deafening.

Run.

You dashed out of the room, severing his bellow with the click of a lock.

One dose down, 140 to go.

that was a hot mess but maybe it's okay? I'm trying to get past all the technical stuff but my inner med student isn't letting me I'm so sorry!!! I will tone it down in the future please believe me-

thots?

taglist: @neeshsoodrippedout

comment if you want to be added xox

next part

[chaoticmannamedoliver]

Okay so, below is a health ish update and a vent about my former GP- cause they did smth that feld dehumanizing. This is mostly just so other people who might have similar health issues to me, can point me into right directions....im iffy about doctors rn-

Contents:

- stupid thing my GP did

- listing of my pains i have that neither of my 2 GP's ive been to acknowledged or bothered with. If you have something similar or know ANYTHING, i really need help, even just little things to make it easier.

- So, what my last gp did -

So i had an appointment with her recently that i took my boyfriend too since he was visiting me anyway- love him

I sat down, and the whole appointment was just a disappointment. She basically gave up on figuring out why im dizzy or why my blood pressure is so high with 18. I asked what im supposed to do with my heart, what im supposed to do about the dizzy- that i came to her for answers- but the woman who seemed so keen on finding out whats wrong with me, cursing my first gp for just prescribing me HBP Meds without further research and who daid she loved working with young adults...just apparently gave up n said is nothing n that i should just continue talking my meds. I had my shitty ass cane to the appointment with me, which she asked about - and i said it helped me with my dizzy, to which she rolled her eyes

She offered one more test, probably just to get me out and left for a bit to talk with a doctor. In the meantime i had a breakdown because i got no answers- and didn't get any further.

When she came back, she told me to get up and go straight, i asked to where exactly- then she grabbed my arm, took my cane from me and with a very uncomfortable grip, dragged me to the waiting area in front of the room for the last test and sat me down, giving the cane to my probably very taken aback partner who had followed us and mutteredthat i didn't need it and. I had another breakdown and didn't understand what happened yet- but it felt bad, dehumanizing?? GP asked me not to cry, and that what she did was just to give me courage and then just left. It felt like she never listened to anything i said- and i still don't know what to make of what happened - if anyone has suggestions- do tell? It felt....hurtful

- My issues and ows and whatnot -

So, there are a few, especially now that i have someone who actually tells me that they're not normal.

- my feet/heels start hurting after 5 ish minutes of standing

- i get dizzy if i stand for a minute or two on bad days and good days it kicks after 1-10 minutes

- heat and shower makes dizzy worse. A sitting think in the shower would make it better

- i have too high blood pressure if i don't take the meds.

- no, the dizzy doesn't come from any ear organ stuff. Tested that.

- the dizzy had gotten. Better after the meds, now its hard to tell.

- sometimes my gravity just says no.

- after maybe 30 min to an hour of walking, my feet/heels hurt. After a certain point i get dizzy. Then no amount of break will fix it. I need to lay down.

- without my cane, walking feels heavy. Please let me use my cane for fucks sake im going to hit the next doctor who says i don't need it i swear to GOD.

- growth pain. After a day of walking. Or cleaning. My knees and shins hurt. Especially once im laying again. They hurt so much that i want to claw at them. Take them out. Agony. Luckily ive started to recognize the kinda pain early and take a paracetamol- but without it? Not matter what position, im in pain

I don't think im supposed to have growth pain anymore with almost 19, right?

- when i get dizzy, the ground feels like its zooming away from me

- i was born at the end of the 6th month? If that helps any-

- inherited migraines from my dad- also just side info

[idontplaytrack]

Birthday baby

Janis ‘Imi’ike x fem! reader(+ big sis Regina & Cady)

Warnings: MDNI, smut. Coarse language, fluff

Reader, Janis, Regina and Cady are in Hawai’i. Read part other parts here <3

“I still cannot believe you did this, Reg.” You glanced at your sister.

“Really? You are in Hawai’i and you’re just saying that?” Regina laughs, “Believe it, enjoy it.”

“Well it’s fucking expensive, that I believe.” You said back, brows raised briefly.

Regina squints at you, “It wasn’t bad at all, y/n. Stop your worrying, please, baby. Wait till you find out where we’re going for Christmas.”

“What?” You looked at her, utterly confused.

She laughs, “Relax, we’re in Hawai’i. Forget about your troubles, have fun. Feel the breeze in your hair, sand in your toes and eat so much Spam Musubi that you can’t even imagine eating any more.”

“Since when did you become an ad for this destination.” Janis snorted, laughing. She sits down next to you, handing you a glass of water. You accepted it, mumbling a ‘thank you’.

“I’m just trying to get her out of her own head. You got better ideas?”

“You all know I do.” Janis shrugs, scoffing.

“I’m gonna stop you right there, ‘Imi’ike.” Regina’s eyes widen for a second as she took a swig of her soda. Cady was happily laying on the couch with her head in Regina's lap, "I think we should go out for lunch. Now that all of us are well-rested."

"Sure!" Janis agrees, Regina did as well.

You blocked a burp and was absolutely not prepared for what happened next. An intense wave of nausea washed over you and you ran to the bathroom to spill your guts. "Well, shit." Regina was shocked. Janis trailed after you to ask how you were doing. "Didn't have to be that disgusted."

"I don't know what the hell that was." You admitted, hearing her walk into the bathroom, "I feel absolutely fine, I swear. Just been bloated and feeling absolutely crazy— oh God. I did not bring any pads."

"We'll go get some, it's alright." She helps you stand up straight. You went to rinse out your mouth after flushing the toilet.

"I wanted to swim." You sulked.

"We'll be here two weeks, we have plenty of time, honey." She says with a chuckle and rubs your back.

"I've never had this happen before." You told her while the two of you walked out.

"Are you okay?" Regina and Cady asked, watching you with concerned eyes.

"Guess so, my period's starting soon I think." You shrug, "I think I'm just gonna go nap for a bit. You guys go ahead and have lunch."

"Are you sure? We'll go grab you the stuff you need first. Let's go to the Target nearby." Cady looked at Regina, then Janis. You only shrugged and headed for your bed, flopping onto the mattress face down.

"I know what she uses, we can go." Janis volunteered.

"Okay, let's." Cady nods, "We'll be back soon." "Alright." Regina acknowledges, "Drive safe."

"I'll be back before you know it, babe." She walks over to you and kissed you on the head. You grumbled, "Okay." You hear them leave right as the fatigue took over and you drifted off to sleep.

When you woke up again, it was a couple hours later. They were back from lunch, and brought you some food from the place they ate at. You spotted the bag on the dining table that they were sat around, chatting away. Janis notices that you were up first, "Hey, feeling any better?"

"A little. Did you get Midol?"

"Sure did." Cady confirms, retrieving the pink and yellow box from a plastic bag, "Here." You took it from her and went to pour yourself a glass of water so you could swallow the pill. "Thanks, you guys."

"Eat something after you take that, okay? The food's still warm."

"I will, Reg. Thanks."

"And later, after the meds have kicked in, we're taking you to the beach because why not? It's gorgeous, you'll love it."

"Would be nice." You nodded in agreement.

————

“You guys are so cute, it’s disgusting.” Regina smirked.

Janis tried not to laugh, but did anyway. “We’ll that’s love for ya, thanks for convincing me to come back here. It’s been much needed.”

“Hey, I’m not all bad.”

“I know that now.” Janis says back quietly.

“Also, it was either get the hell away from Chicago or June hounding on us all summer long.”

“She’s still being difficult?”

“I want to change our numbers and all, but that costs money. She should know to stay away— we’ve made that clear. We shouldn’t have to resort to that.” Regina sighs unintentionally, watching you and Cady build a sandcastle and laughing without a care in the world. “As long as she’s still with Carmelo, we’re not letting her back into our lives. That guy doesn’t give me any good vibes whatsoever.”

The ravenette nods, “I’m with you on that.”

“You don’t wanna join them?” Regina asks her.

“I’m good, had my fun. Now I just want to sit here and take this all in. Things have changed around here.”

Regina looks at her, Janis could feel the blonde’s gaze, curious.

“I mean, obviously. It’s been over ten years since I last came here. But I remember how different it was— a good different. It’s beautiful, but I can tell the harmful effects things like tourism has had on my home. I don’t hate tourists, just those ignorant ones that get too close to wildlife, crushing and destroying the nature. Okay? How many of those have we run into already. Just— never mind.”

“Not never mind. I hear you, the land is important, to you, to your family. To your people. Cady and I didn’t even want to come here, I just wanted y/n to be around so that you and y/n had another pair of eyes to watch out for her.”

“I don’t mind you and Cady being here, you guys understand. You’re her family and Cady’s your girlfriend. She obviously knows what not to do while here unlike those chuckleheads we passed by today.” Janis added on. “It just sucks a little that she got sick just now. But I’m glad she seems better now.”

“PMS can be rough. Though I’ve never actually seen her throw up from the bloat.” Regina revealed, “I guess hormones can make things very unpredictable.”

“Her appetite’s okay, though. At least she’s eating and she’s in the mood to go sightseeing, have some fun.”

“I’m glad.” Regina agrees, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay if I don’t think about my mom and my sister. But let’s face it, I’m sad because I’m here. And I’m reminded of them because I’m here.” Janis admitted, “Therapy this, therapy that. Once I’m back here, I still feel it all over again.”

“That’s…understandable. They’re people that are so important to you.” Regina said, “The reason why I planned this trip was to replace the negative emotions you have related to this place, with positive, happy memories with the one you love.”

“I know, and I really appreciate it.” Janis sighs, “It’s helping and I just need more time here to get used to being here even. But it’s been great. So great. So…thanks.”

Regina flashes her a crooked smile, “She learning Hawaiian?”

“Little bit. I love that she is. She doesn’t have to, but it means a lot even if it’s just basic words and phrases. It’s not easy, I myself am not entirely fluent.”

“That’s cute.” A proper smile forms on her face as she turned to face the front again, “I think we should head back soon, get something to eat.”

“You and Cady can stay longer, no problem. Me and y/n can go back to the hotel first, I’m feeling like cuddling with her for a bit then have dinner.”

“If I catch you fucking—”

“Ugh, no way.” Janis rolled her eyes, “I would never let you know. Besides, she’s not feeling too well. Why the heck would I even think of doing anything like that?”

“I don’t know. It helps with cramps?”

“Shut up.” Janis laughs, standing up and dusting herself off. She approaches you and Cady, “Hey. You wanna head back soon, honey?”

“Yeah. Sure.” You looked up, meeting her eyes. She smiles, then sat down with you. Regina came up to you guys too a minute later and joined in. “It’s so beautiful here, Jan. I love it here.”

“I know.” Janis smiles to herself, “I’m glad I could be here with you. It means the world to me that I get to share this with you.”

You looked at her, giving her a similar smile in response, “Let’s go in a minute, okay?”

“Of course.” She rubs your back, the smile still on her face.

"Hey, did you guys get any chocolate?"

"I did." Janis tells you, "You've been wanting to try those chocolate coated macadamias, so I did get some of those and the ones you usually like."

A few minutes later, you decided you had enough outdoor-time for the day and headed back to the hotel with Janis after saying bye to Cady and Regina. "Wait— you want me to pick up dinner on the way?"

"Sure, whatever sounds good, I guess? We have some stuff we got from Target that we could eat too."

"You mean the bread and the cashew butter? That's a snack." Regina stifles a laugh, "Cads and I will pick up some food on our way back, but if the bread's all she feels like having, that's better than nothing."

You kicked your flip-flops off once you entered the room. Then, it was straight to bed. Janis chuckles at the silliness, "You okay?"

"Why am I sad?" You say, voice unclear since you had your face in the mattress.

"Because...hormones are being mean?" Janis joked, sitting down in the spot next to you. You laughed, rolling over so you could look at her. The more you looked at each other, the more the mood shifted. "You want a kiss?" Janis asks knowingly.

You giggled, nodding.

She bent down and presses her lips to yours. You frowned when she pulled away. Janis chuckles at your expression, "Why are you so cute?"

"I dunno." You shrug.

Her palm rests on your torso, the slight warmth and contact comforting. But it wasn't long before your thoughts took a sinful turn. "Shit." You cursed, shaking your head as if to get rid of them. Her palm began to rub your skin, allowing the heat from it to be felt more obviously. It soothed your cramps somewhat, but it was not helping your...need.

"Hey, Jan. I know Reg told you not to, but could we—"

"Since when do I listen to Regina when it comes to something like making you feel good?” Janis smirked cheekily, “You sure?”

“Yes!” You nodded eagerly, “PMS is making me feel like a feral animal.”

The brunette laughs, the motion of her palm continues. Slowly, it starts to move lower. A harsh exhales comes out from your nostrils in anticipation. At the same time, she leans down and started to kiss you once again. “Shift?” She nudges you lightly, you pushed yourself up so that you were fully on the mattress. Janis follows suit.

“What if they come back—”

“They’re supposed to be next door. Serves them right if they barge in here without even knocking.” Janis smirked, cupping your cheek as her lips move in sync with yours.

“Fuck.” You laughed into her mouth. She squishes your cheek playfully and was then deepening the kiss.

“God, I love it when you cuss.” Janis chuckles lowly, it sends a shock down your spine that travels to the juncture between your legs.

A chuckle escapes your lips, staying connected to hers as you held her face in your hand too.

Janis hands start to undo your jeans’ buttons and pull it down along with your underwear. You lifted your hips and let her do so. Janis says with a laugh, impressed, “Holy shit. You’re soaked.”

You scoffed, “Get used to it. I can never do anything for myself in the apartment. The walls are so fucking thin Regina will hear it in seconds.”

“But we’re alone now.” Her fingers tease your folds skilfully, making you squirm as she’d expected. It didn’t take her long to decide to slip her finger inside you, strongly hooking it up to stimulate your sensitive spot deep inside.

You bite down on your lip, still apprehensive about making noise despite the privacy.

“It’s just us here.”

“I know.” You laughed, “But—”

“It’s fine, they won’t be back too so soon.” She assured.

“Goddamn.” You huffed, a strangled whine comes out of you. Janis smiles, contented, sliding lower, and lower.

“Oh my God—” You cursed, back arching.

“Oh, my God!”

Your eyes snap open, that voice. “Fuck!” You cursed, grabbing a pillow of all things to cover up your bottom half.

“Oh, my God, I thought you were—”

“I’m fine!” You exclaimed, cheeks immediately flushed with a red tint.

“Get out!” Janis yelled, still suspiciously close to you.

“I’m sorry!” She replied in a panic, “Dinner’s on the table. Bye, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—”

“Stay away.” Janis sighs, exasperated, “Please. Regina’s not going to take this—”

“Take what?”

“Fuck’s sake!” You screeched, running to the bathroom, slamming the door.

Regina cackled, “I knew it. y/n you should totally top her and show her how it’s done.”

“Leave me alone.” You hollered.

“You poked the bear there, George.” Janis shrugs. “Couldn’t you knock?”

“I’m sorry!” Cady apologised again, “I didn’t expect this. She wasn’t feeling well so I thought she’d be asleep and you’d just snuggle with her or something.”

“It’s true, that’s what you told me.” Regina smirked.

“Well it’s now clear that she wanted more, isn’t it? Get out. Go back to your room.” Janis shooed them away, “It’s not like you give her any privacy at home to do anything if she needs to.”

“I don’t judge.” The blonde shrugs, “I may know what she’s doing but I didn’t say she couldn’t satisfy her own needs?”

“G, let’s go.” Cady tugs on her hand, “Good night, bye.”

“Of course.” Regina smiled at Cady, “Let’s go.”

“You’re gonna fuck too, aren’t you?” Janis snorted, trying not to laugh.

“Oh my, God. Guys!” You shrieked, “Seriously?!”

Regina and Cady finally scurried out of the room, leaving you and Janis alone finally. Janis opens the bathroom door without knocking, to check on you.

“I’m…fine.” You exhaled harshly, “Frustrated, and embarrassed but fine.”

“We’re alone now.” She walks in, “I can help you…finish.”

You chuckled, “Well, I— are they really?”

“I don’t wanna know.” Janis says with her brows raised, “What I wanna know, is how I can bring that smile back onto your face. I don’t want you to go to sleep upset tonight, baby.” She walks back to the bed as she speaks to you. “Get out of the toilet.”

————

Her lips wrapped around your sensitive nipple, making you moan aloud. She laughs against your skin, making you whimper. “So cute…” She cooed, “Does that feel good, honey?”

“Yeah.” You nodded quickly, not wanting to piss her off and stop.

Janis’ mouth kept at it, she knew you loved her playing with your tits like that. Sometimes she was confident she could make you unravel just by sucking on them. She wasn’t wrong.

“Sit up.” She says, mouth detaching from you. You didn’t resist, so she just pulls you up by the hand. She sits in front of the headboard, legs apart, telling you to sit in between them, “Come on, baby. Sit here.” Once you sat down, her hand slides down your front, fingers finding its way back inside you, steadily pumping in and out. Her free hand fondles with your tits at the same time, the combination of these gestures quickly sent your head spinning. When her fingers hit a particularly deep spot, your back arched, pushing her fingers even deeper. “Shit.” You cried out. The most intense part of it all, was this new position. This intimacy was causing you to feel insanely shy. Janis was living every single moment of it, doing anything to make you feel good and keep making those sweet, sweet noises for her. When her lips end up behind your ear and trailing down your neck. You lost it, moans becoming obscenely loud, curse words spewing from your lips with no end, her name repeated over and over like a chant as the pleasure build and build to the brink of letting go. You were sweaty from the weather(the humidity, honestly), but you were so far gone, you could only care about chasing your high.

“Oh, yeah. Keep going.” Janis chuckles into your ear, the vibrations sending electric shocks down your back, her encouragement making you cry out her name again along with a ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ that she adores. Sucking at a spot along your shoulder, Janis leaves a mark, but shit she draws out the loudest moan of the night from you that even startled you.

“You’re so close, aren’t you baby? I feel it…” She purrs, “Soaking the sheets, my hand, you’re throbbing and clenching. I love the way all that feels to me. I bet you’d want to come right now, don’t you, pretty girl?”

You whined, then nearly cried. Licking your lips, you squirmed and yelped when she swatted your pussy. “Fuck— Jan— oh my God!”

Your chest heaved as she did that, then she pressed her thumb down on your clit, you feel the pulsating intensify. A pathetic whimper falls from your lips as she tells you to hold it. Your head falls back on her shoulder, you take a deep breath that was shaky as she removed her thumb, sliding that palm to the side to caress your inner thigh.

“Hold it, my love.” She whispers, kissing your shoulder blade fleetingly, then she was sucking at your neck again in that one spot.

“Fuck…” You panted, whine after whine flies out of your mouth. “Fucking tease.” You grumbled.

“You love it.” She continues massaging that little area of your inner thigh, fingers teasing your clit eventually.

You did love it. Of course she was right.

But it was starting to get unbearable. You could not hold it for much longer. “Please, please— please, I’m gonna c—”

She purposely twisted your nipple between her fingers and it caught you so off guard you actually screamed, “Oh my God— please. I need to come, Jan.”

She hums and you feel her shrug, you took that as your permission to finally let go. But what she does shocked you, the girl was mercilessly rubbing your clit which ignited a different sensation within you that you had no chance of fighting. Unraveling, no— squirting, for the fucking first time in your life, you naturally fall back against her for support as you breathed raggedly, desperately trying to catch your breath. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you feel her push her fingers back inside you to help you ride out this crazy high.

“Oh, fuck. That’s it.” She laughs, proud. “That’s it, pretty girl. Such a good girl.”

“I’m gonna come again if you keep talking.”

You could hear the grin in her voice, “Do it, you know you want to. I know you can.”

“You’re crazy. You know that?” You said, words coming out in pants as you entirely relied on her to stay seated.

“Hey.” She chuckles right by your ear again, “Your sister didn’t call me pyro-lez for nothing.”

You wanna talk sinful? This was sinful. Her actions, your noises, your thoughts. Everything about this situation seems so forbidden and ridiculous, it was making you so high on the feeling of chasing your high. Again.

“Come for me, honey.” She smiles, the motion of her fingers growing sloppy once she feels you getting close again. The squelching noises echoed through your ears and the room, making a dizzy smile creep onto your face. “Give me one more.”

You nodded vigorously, “Coming— oh my God— mm— mm, fuck— I—”

Your legs clamped shut on reflex but she held you open, whimpering almost pitifully, tears were brimming in your eyes. You were trying your hardest not to cry. It felt good, so fucking good but did you want to cry? No.

“Fuck yeah.” Janis turned your head to capture your lips into her own, “That was so fucking perfect.”

You laughed, nearly in delirium. “Are you trying to make me not walk at all tomorrow or what?”

“No, but I couldn’t stop so soon once I heard those pretty noises from your mouth.” She smiled, gazing into your eyes lovingly, “You feel okay, though?”

“Yeah, I feel great.” You told her, kissing her back. “Sleepy though. Maybe go easier on me next time.”

“That was so hot, though.” She giggles cheekily, “Can’t believe I made you sq—”

You shushed her, “No, no, no. Do not say anymore of that.”

“Okay.” Janis hums in agreement. She slid away from behind you and let you lie down.

“Wanna take a shower with me?”

“The sheets need to be changed.”

“Oh what an awkward conversation that will be with room service.” Janis chortled, you looked at her horrified.

🏷️Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

[c0rvusx2]

Wolf-ji 🤡

Toji x fem!reader

18+: Toji being a perv, swearing, described nudity I think. Somewhat creepy ig, he likes watching you do stuff. No smut, but it’s kinda spicy. Use of 2nd POV (you, your) rather than 3rd (she,her).

Notes: Keep in mind that he has the mind of a human, so don’t take it wrong 🤝 This man is my brain rot 🤤 lmk if I need to raise the age warning

Genre: Fluff/Crack, spicy idk

Toji had no fucking clue where he was. He expected hell to be… a lot less looking like a city alleyway. He tried to lift himself, rather than feeling like his legs they were bent at an uncomfortable looking angle. Pain flared in his left arm, he bent his head to see a bullet wound, a nasty one that kept on bleeding.

“The fuck?” He stretched as best he could, looking around for some sort of item that would give him his reflection. Luckily, there was a abandoned mirror, cracked and without purpose. Toji began to limp over to the reflector, his legs stiff rather than it’s normal nimble movements.

“Oh fuckin’ hell-“

Okay, so maybe going grocery shopping late at night might be a bad idea—especially since there’ll be all sorts of creeps walking around. Not to mention it’s freezing out there, but it’s too late. You’ve already stepped out of the store and onto the empty sidewalk, and if this was the Wild West there’d be tumble weeds rolling from view. You shiver, beginning your journey back to the safe confines of your home.

The store you frequented was your favorite, and the farthest… so to save time you’d take shortcuts through alleyways. Today would be the first time you were doing it late at night.

You stare into the darkness of the passageway in front of you, anxiety bubbling in your stomach. “Quick… nice and quick…” you hype yourself up before storming ahead, using a quick pace to get you to the other side. The deeper you went, the darker it became and soon the only thing illuminating the alley was the clouded moonlight from above.

From ahead of you, you suddenly see a pair of eyes, gazing right back at you with a stern emerald green color.

You screamed as the eyes began to rapidly get closer, accompanied by the sounds of claws hitting against the ground. You dodged, reversing yourself and pressing your back to the alleyway’s wall. A harsh tug came from your grocery bag, which almost ripped your arm right off your torso. Muffled growling came from the creature that was trying to steal your food. Luckily, you recognized the creature that was attacking you, it was some dumb dog.

This made you enraged and frustrated, this shit costed you a good chunk of the money saved from the leftovers after you payed bills—and the bills around here ain’t cheap.

“Bitch!-“

🌌

Toji is one lucky bastard. Perhaps this was god giving him a 2nd chance at life- their weird way of dishing out redemption.

Somehow, he was able to worm his way into the chick-he-was-about-to-rob’s heart. Life’s good for the man-turned-wolf, he’s got free food, a roof to live under, and no rent to pay. A bargain in his mind. The only downside being he won’t be able to fuck around anymore, and he sure as hell is NOT gonna fuck a dog.

You felt bad for the dog, the moment you saw it’s form when you scrambled out the alleyway. It wasn’t scrawny, but it wasn’t very lean either. It had a scar present on the right side of it’s mouth, sharp green eyes and dirty matte black fur. It sustained a limp arm, a recent wound most likely the reason why it didn’t go all out on you.

You couldn’t really just walk away from a hurt animal, the guilt would eat you up the moment you turned your back. You were also studying to be a vet, moments like this were what you meant for. So you left some food, ran home to fetch a med kit, and returned with your car.

Here you were now, caring for one big ass dog who kept stealing your food—even though you bought him his own food.

You named him Toji, mainly because that scar on the dogs mouth was hella familiar to the Toji you fawned over in Jujutsu Kaisen. He looked at you weirdly when you said that, but snorted a moment later and stalked off to your TV set.

The strange thing about him was that he apparently knew how to operate cable TV, which amazed you yet weirded you out at the same time.

You noticed Toji naps a lot, and wakes up whenever you turn on Netflix. He’ll eagerly sit next to you, sometimes snacking (read stealing) popcorn whenever you make some.

For some reason he likes tuning in whenever you play any anime episodes, especially Jujutsu Kaisen. Whenever Fushiguro comes onto screen Toji’s fluffy tail begins to wag a bit, which you giggle at. He’ll catch you looking and snap at you, which causes you to furthermore laugh at. In the end he’ll end up tackling you onto the couch.

🌌

Toji often feels bored in your household. Nothing really for him to do since he’s apparently a dog now. Nothing to do other than follow you into the bathroom whenever you’re going to shower, keeping a keen eye on every curve of your body. Nothing to do other than watch the fat of your ass lower into his view when you have to bend over to clean up a mess you of him might’ve made.

Nothing to do other than create smutty fantasies of you in his head from when he was human, imagining what your cute little moans would sound like with you under him. Nothing to do other than watch your tits bounce whenever you two go out for a jog in the early morning. Nothing to do other than take a nap between your legs, resting his head on your stomach or between your breast whenever he can. Nothing to do but wish your pretty lips were wrapped around his cock instead of that popsicle you were sucking on a hot summer day.

Toji was a lucky bastard. And lucky bastards get what they want.

🌌

“Toji? Toooojiiii, breakfast! Where’d the hell you go?” You called out, turning the house upside down as you looked for him.

“Toji?” The only place you haven’t looked was the guest bathroom, and currently the door was closed shut. You could hear shuffling from inside, which made you wonder how the dog could’ve closed the door. Without warning, you swiftly pulled open the door.

“What’s going on in her-“ You stopped mid sentence, mouth agape at the figure who stood in front of your bathroom’s vanity. You both stared each other down, your eyes blown wide open while his were glued to yours without emotion. It was a stare down for what seemed like ages, until the familiar man broke the silence.

“What?”

You screamed, and you wished it was without the s because it was embarrassing. He flinched at your volume and seemed to disappear for millisecond, only to return right in front of you, hand on your mouth.

“Jesus Christ- I know you’re a loud mouthed brat but now’s not the time to scream yer’ lungs out,” He huffed, “You can do that later,” The man smirked, you could feel your face flush a bit. After a sec, he hesitantly let go of your mouth. Your mouth was left agape again as Hulu blinked wildly in disbelief at the hulking man in front of you.

“I- wait a fucking second… where’s my dog!?” The man just deadpanned at you, you took this time to eye him up and down. His skin tight shirt had a massive part of it missing on it’s left side, dark splotches of blood surrounding it. The familiar man, however, seemed completely fine.

“C’mon, is it not obvious!?”

“No!? It’s not possible for some anime character to come to life!?” At this you dashed out the room, running into the kitchen to nab your phone to call 911. Before you could even pick it up from the counter, the phone was snatched at lightning speed.

“Hey-!” You whipped around, immediately meeting a stone hard chest.

You were trapped.

“What do I gotta do to prove ‘m real, huh?”

💫

Omfg this is so ooc 💀 writing in character is hard.

If anyone’s confused Toji died and reincarnated into a dead dog’s body that looks exactly like him. During the night get went back to the jjk dimension, shibuya happens, and he returns back human.

Not proofread 🤡

[pedrito-friskito]

fire and whiskey - joel miller x fem!reader

summary: you never expected to run into joel again after boston, but here he is, and here you are.

warnings: spoilers for the last of us (i’m six hours into a play-through LOL), a lot of swearing, canon-typical violence, MENTIONS/DEPICTIONS OF ASSAULT (pls do not read if that is triggering for you!), unprotected p-in-v, fingering, oral (m receiving), joel is a grumpy man and I love him for it

a/n: please heed the warnings!! my first time writing joel and I’m kinda hooked. this show is truly going to be the death of me and I can’t wait for pedro’s performance. it’s so easy to see how he’s gonna fit watching the game itself play out.

🍂kay’s autumn adventures🍂

When he grabs you from behind, you don’t make a sound. You’ve learned, by now, to keep things quiet. But you’re still not expecting it, your whole body jolting with surprise and a breath sucked down your throat. Joel’s hand clamps over your mouth, thick fingers nearly cutting off your nose, but you don’t make a noise, letting him pull you backwards away from the clicker, feet scrambling silently over the doorjamb before he pushes it shut, quiet as can be.

“You need to keep your eyes open, girl,” he spits at you, barely above a whisper. It’s nearly pitch-black in the room, but you can just make out the shape of him, and somehow, those dark eyes manage to glitter all the same as they do in sunlight. It’s maddening. “I saw that thing comin’ a mile away. You distracted or somethin’?”

You shake your head, then realize he probably can’t see your head movement, so throw out a whispered no.

Of course, you’re fucking distracted. It’s Joel. Ten months later, and Joel fucking Miller appears out of nowhere like some kind of guardian angel, yanking a runner off you and putting a pipe through the thing’s face. You haven’t seen him since Boston. Since before everything that happened…happened.

Since Jason.

Since Tess.

Fuck, you think inwardly, exhaling against his palm. Tess. Sure, she wasn’t the nicest woman you’d ever met in your life, but she’d helped keep you alive, and you knew Joel was close to her, in that strange, standoffish, I act like I hate you but I’ll be quietly devastated if anything ever happens to you way that you’ve come to associated with Joel Miller. It’s the way of the world now, to a certain degree, but goddamn it if Joel didn’t take it to the next level. Always.

Even after it all, after Jason was dealt with and he’d told you you were square, you still didn’t know where you stood with Joel. If he liked you or hated you, or if he genuinely didn’t give a fuck.

But then earlier, before you’d crept inside the old warehouse in search of supplies, when you’d been knocked into the pavement by a runner and Joel had intervened, when he saw it was you, there was a moment. A glimmer of something, too quick to memorize but there long enough for your brain to fixate on it, to focus on, to dissect.

“It’s you,” was all he’d said, the pipe still buried in the runner’s face, using it as leverage to yank the limp body off of you. “I’ll be damned.”

“Joel fucking Miller,” you’d nearly gasped with relief, throwing your arms around his neck. He’d muttered something unintelligible, giving you a halfhearted squeeze around the waist. “Thank god.”

“Good to see you, girl.”

That had been the extent of the reunion. You were introduced to Ellie shortly after, and to Bill, Joel’s friend from a town over back in Boston. And Joel told you about Tess.

 Desperation had pushed you into the warehouse, all of you with growling stomachs and Bill with a bad arm injury. You’d used the last of your pain meds days back, and Joel had bandages, but it wouldn’t do much to ease his friend’s discomfort. When Ellie told you it’d been two days since they had anything to eat, you slipped her half a granola bar you had stashed, and you didn’t miss the way Joel looked at you sideways.

And now you’re inside, your back pressed to Joel’s front and his hand clamped over your mouth. You expect him to smell awful — and mostly, he does — but there’s something beneath it, something manly and comforting and strong.

So yes, you’re fucking distracted.

It’s a few hours before you get out of the warehouse, your arms aching from holding your rifle at the ready, shoulders screaming from the weight of your pack. It’s worth it, though — each of your bags is practically filled to burst with medical supplies, food scraps, what have you.

And the best of all: booze.

Bill had nearly cried when you stumbled on the box, your head cocking to the side when you heard the rattle of glass. The fact that it wasn’t shattered was already surprising, but when you flipped open the cardboard to reveal three intact bottles of good old Jack Daniels, even Joel had mumbled out his surprise.

You find a quiet alley outside the warehouse, hang around long enough for your stomachs to stop eating themselves, and for Bill to swig back most of one of the bottles of whiskey.

“Nature’s Tylenol,” he claims, and you and Ellie let out quiet giggles. Joel cracks a smile.

“Where y’all headed?” you ask, after an awkward silence settles over the group of you and you find yourself desperate to break it.

“That’s the elusive question, isn’t it?” Bill comments, and Joel scoffs. “Don’t suppose you’ve seen any car batteries laying around, have ya?”

Your brow furrows, Ellie laughs, and Bill throws his hands up, muttering under his breath and grabbing his shotgun and heading back for the street. “We going?” Ellie asks Joel, and he nods. “You should come,” she says to you, her eyes bright, tone inviting. It’s sweet. “It’d be nice to have another girl around.”

You laugh, punching her arm lightly, playful. But then you look at Joel, and the feeling withers slightly. “That all right with you?”

“Where’re you headed?”

You shrug a shoulder. “Nowhere fast.”

He lifts his chin, looking down his nose at you. “Well, may as well stay together. For tonight at least.”

“Okay,” you agree, and that’s that.

There’s a lot of walking, quiet conversation passed between you, recounting where you’ve been, what your plan (or lack there of) is, people from your and Joel’s briefly shared past. Bill leads the group of you, bottle dangling from his hand most of the way, and Ellie is a few feet behind, Joel falling into step beside you.

“Been a long time since I saw you,” he says gruffly. Your hands brush as you walk, and Joel flinches, making the space between you a little winder. “Since—”

“Jason,” you finish, stuffing your hands in your pockets. “I never thanked you properly.”

“Ah,” he waves you off. “You don’t have to thank me for anythin’, girlie.”

Girlie. It makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Even back in Boston, when things were…rough, whenever you’d run into Joel, or Tess would bring you around for a job or something, it was always the same. Those dark eyes, occasionally crinkled at the corners, always giving you a once over. You knew what it was, in reality — he was checking you for bites, anything out of the ordinary, any trace of blood, and, once he knew what Jason really was, bruises. How you doin’, girlie? You eaten today, girlie? You feelin’ okay, girlie?

And after, when he and Tess had burst into your apartment back in Boston, seeing you beaten and bloody in the corner, Jason with reddened fists raised, a feral look in his eye. Not infected, just…awful.

Tess had yanked you to your feet and Joel had stood in front of the pair of you, blocking Jason’s path to you. “Back off.” It wasn’t a request. An order, delivered with a voice like hard steel and a raised gun levelled between Jason’s eyes.

It was a marriage of convenience, in every sense. And not a real marriage, not by a long shot. You’d met Jason somewhere between your hometown in Colorado and the camp in Boston, and it became a matter of survival. You kept his bed warm at night, and in return, he kept you protected, kept you alive. It wasn’t love, not really. Jason had his moments, but the bad started to outweigh the good. And the bruises came later.

Then they became too much.

You hung outside until the curfew reminders sounded, if you could manage it. Bouncing from friend to friend, trying to find odd jobs, asking Tess to find you something to do. You only went home when you got desperate, and more often than not, Jason was up waiting, ready to hurl insults and accusations the second you were through the door. His latest was that you were sleeping with other people, throwing yourself at anyone in camp who so much as glanced at you.

“I bet she’s fucking you too, isn’t she, Miller?” he half-screamed at Joel, waving his hands like a crazy person. Tess tucked you under her arm and you tried to wipe the blood from your face. “Fucking whore!”

He lunged for you and Joel laid him out flat, a gunshot echoing through the apartment. Through and through to his shoulder, the bullet leaving a hole in the wall, casing clattering to the floor. “I said, back off.”

Jason didn’t listen, blind with rage, pulling a switchblade from his pocket and trying to run at you again, ducking in an attempt to move around Joel, but it only made things worse.

The second shot would have gone through his shoulder again, another warning. He would have lived. But ducking put him level with the gun, and instead, it went through his forehead. Blood sprayed, you screamed and Tess shielded you, and his body hit the floor.

Joel put his gun away, gently took you from Tess. “Pack her things,” he said to her, his hands warm around your biceps as he held you up. “I’ll deal with this.”

Tess nodded, disappearing towards your bedroom, and your eyes were stuck on the body on the floor. “He’s gone.”

“He is,” Joel agreed, producing a bit of gauze from his pocket, dabbing at your split lip. “It’s okay, girlie. You’re safe now.”

You’d crumbled into him. Tess let you stay in her apartment a few days, but by the end of the week, you were gone.

“Where did you go?” Joel asks, the question yanking you out of your memories. “After.”

“Salem, for a while,” you answer, staring down at your boots. “Providence for a bit after that, then the plan was Washington, but here I am instead.”

“By yourself?”

You just nod.

He whistles. “I taught you well.”

He had. In the days after Jason and before your departure, most of your time had been spent with Joel. He taught you how to shoot every gun they could get their hands on, setting up target practice with tin cans behind one of the apartment blocks. Bow and arrow too, hand-to-hand combat, knives. You name it, if Joel knew how to use it, he was showing you how to do it too.

And his cardinal rule: never let go of your weapon, not if you can help it.

You nod again, lifting your elbow so it nudges him in the side. He’s gotten a little closer to you. “You did. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you, Joel.”

You swear he blushes.

Another couple hours of travel, and you find a farmhouse, mostly intact. A few smashed windows, sure, but it’s secure enough, far enough from the main roads that you’re not worried about stragglers. Bill and Joel clear the house out first, you and Ellie keeping watch by the road.

“Did you and Joel used to date?” she asks, blunt as anything, while you’re sharing a bottle of water, which you nearly spit out.

“W-what?” You wipe your face, feeling your cheeks heat. “What makes you say that?”

“He looks at you,” she says, shrugging a shoulder, “when you’re not looking at him. Like he thinks you’re gonna disappear or something.”

You choke on a laugh, waving her off. “You’re imagining things, kid.”

“Am not!”

The men emerge from the house then, waving you both in. They’ve set up a barricade of sorts in the living room, a few lanterns lit either side of the pile of blankets stacked on the floor. It’s not a real mattress by any stretch, but it’ll do.

“Gonna go build a fire out back,” Joel announces as you all get comfortable, a slim sense of safety settling over you. “I’ll take first watch.”

He disappears out the sliding door, and you watch until he disappears into the dark. A few minutes later, there’s a spark of light, then another and another, until the orange glow of a fire seeps back towards the house.

Ellie settles down completely, reading a few pages of her comic book before she’s passed out completely. You fold her comic up carefully, pulling one of the blankets over her. You try and get some sleep, tossing and turning for a few hours, but it’s no use. Your eyes keep moving to the sliding door, to the outline of Joel sitting at the fire. Finally, you give up, and get up. Bill is sprawled on the couch, his bottle of Jack cradled against him. You just laugh, pulling your own bottle from your bag and heading outside.

Joel’s fire is impressive, licking up towards the sky, embers crackling into the night as you approach. There’s a fallen log stretched across the ground, Joel sat in the centre of it, staring into the flames. Your foot snaps a twig as you get closer and he’s on his feet immediately, reaching for his gun. But he stops when he sees it’s you, and grunts.

“Sorry,” you say, lifting your hands. “Should have announced myself.”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ should have,” he agrees angrily, sinking back onto the log.

“Easy,” you lift the bottle of whiskey. “I come bearing gifts.”

His brow hardens at you. “Fine.”

You take a seat beside him and crack open the bottle. It’s a familiar burn on the way down, a strangely memorable taste that makes you feel like a teenager again, stealing liquor from your parents’ cabinet and sneaking off to parties. It feels like a million years ago.

It’s quiet, at first, the pair of you just passing the bottle back and forth, back and forth. The fire dies slightly at some point, and Joel tosses a capful towards the logs, making you jump when the flames jump high for a split second. “They teach you that in boy scouts?” you ask.

He barks a laugh. That angry tone still sits in his voice, but you can tell it’s starting to break. “I was not a fuckin’ boy scout.”

“I find that very hard to believe, Joel Miller.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Oh, that’s mature.”

A long silence. You swig from the bottle and hand it to him. You’re pressed close to him on the log, trying to steal some of his warmth, your bodies touching from shoulder to hip.

Whiskey gives you a loose tongue. “What do you miss the most?”

He doesn’t answer, his brow turning to hard line on his forehead. He swigs from the bottle again. “That’s a loaded question as any, girlie.”

“I miss getting mail,” you roll over his comment. “Hell, I even miss bills. Oh, and fuzzy slippers. I used to have some that looked like turtles, it was so funny. Don’t get comfortable enough anywhere to even think about taking my shoes off, let alone wearing slippers.”

He laughs again, and the anger is gone. Success. “Turtles, huh?”

“Turtles,” you agree, grinning. “C’mon, tell me, Joel. What do you miss most? From the old days. From the normal days.”

He thinks about it. You can see it on his face, the way his brow pinches, eyes bright with something besides the firelight. The bottle dangles from his fingers; it’s nearly empty. “We need a lot more than one bottle of Jack for me to answer that.”

You roll your eyes. “Come on, I told you mine.”

“I’m not talkin’ about slippers and snail mail, girl. A lot of shit has happened since I last saw you, and even before that, you don’t know my whole story, all right? So don’t fuckin’ pry.”

“Damn,” you breathe out, stunned silence settling over you. He drinks the last of the bottle, and it’s a few minutes before you speak again, the crackling of the fire filling the quiet between you. “I know you’ve been through a lot, Joel. We’ve all been through a fucking lot, okay? So fucking forgive me for wanting to make sure you’re okay.” Sighing, you get to your feet, moving to walk around the fire. 

“Listen,” he says, catching your arm as he gets up, moving closer to you as while you’re stepping away from him. “I don’t need you worryin’ about me or checkin’ up on me or anything like that, you hear? That’s not your—”

“Burden to bear?” you finish, quirking a brow, and Joel just stares at you, dark eyes widening like he’s shocked by your answer. “I know I don’t have to, Joel. That’s not why I do it.”

“You’re not listen—”

You grab him by the front of his shirt, fingers curling into worn flannel, dragging him close until you’re nearly chest to chest. There’s a pause, a complete stillness that washes over both of you for a second, his lips parted and yours following suit. Then it’s the scrape of his beard against your skin, biting at your cheeks and chin. He tastes like whiskey, something harsh that slides down your throat, something harsher that you know is just the taste of Joel.

There’s nothing soft about it. Hesitant, sure, but there’s no gentleness, nothing romantic about the way he kisses. It’s intense, his mouth devouring your own, drinking you down in every sense. His tongue dives past your teeth, curling along the roof of your mouth, and you can’t help but gasp back into him, toes curling in your boots as you lean up, desperate to get closer to him, to have him nearer, to feel his warmth as surely as you feel your own.

The fire crackles behind you, the whiskey bottle empty and discarded beside the log you’d been occupying. He finally moves, one hand finding your hip beneath your sweater, the other reaching back and curling in your ponytail, wrapping the length of it around his wrist. He tugs lightly, prickles of tension shooting along your scalp, and you let your own hands dip, sliding right up the hem of his flannel until your palms are splayed on bare skin. You can feel the heave of his breaths against your hands, the racket of his heart against his ribs.

Behind you, someone clears their throat, and you both snap apart like a sprung trap, Joel instantly turning away towards the fire, hands on his hips, while you stumble back a step, covering your mouth with one hand, trying to quell your rapid breaths and aching core.

“Just comin’ to take my watch,” Bill says, eyeing you both. His own bottle of whiskey is at his hip, shotgun cocked over his shoulder, a large machete hanging from his belt. “You two go get some shut-eye.” He brushes past Joel, clapping him on the shoulder as he goes. “Or somethin’.”

You both stand there a moment, shell-shocked, as Bill takes his seat at the fire. In the direction he came, the house glows from the inside, the camping lanterns still lit in the living room. Ellie’s asleep there, you know, and as Joel takes a step, intent on brushing past you, his cheeks bright red even in the darkness, you catch his arm.

“Meet me in the bathroom,” you say. It’s bold, and he freezes, staring down at your hand on his arm for a long moment before his eyes flick up to your face.

“I’m not what you need.” The words are gruff, his brow going hard again, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“Cut the shit,” you say, shaking your head. “Now you’re the one not listening.”

Before he can get another word out, you turn on your heel and stomp back to the house. You don’t look back, don’t check to see if he’s following you or not. The sliding door squeaks as you slip inside, and sure enough, you catch sight of Ellie, still asleep, her eyes fluttering with dreams. You don’t want to disturb her.

You almost leave your gun on the kitchen counter as you make your way to the bathroom, but then Joel’s voice echoes in your mind. Never let go of your weapon, not if you can help it. So you don’t, leaving it tucked in your waistband until you’re in the bathroom, letting the door click quietly shut behind you.

It’s dark, save for a sliver of moonlight coming in through the mostly-shattered window. You take stock, ignoring the cracked floor and broken toilet. It’s surprisingly clean, given the state of things, Under the expected later of dust and grime, there’s nothing too unseemly. There’s an empty toilet paper roll still on the holder, a home improvement magazine on the back of the toilet. You turn, pushing a hand through your hair, pulling it loose of the ponytail, and inspect the sink.

The faucet is broken, handles missing and the spout off-kilter. The mirror above is broken, spidering out from a single contact point, like someone punched the glass. Your own reflection still peers back at you, fractured and disfigured. Something about it makes your chest hurt, and you rub a hand across your collarbone.

Just when you’re about to give up, convinced that he’s not coming, the door creaks open. Just a crack, just enough for you to see half his face in the opening it leaves. His gaze is still dark, but his brow is less furrowed, and he’s chewing at the inside of his lip.

Silently, he steps inside, pulls the door shut behind him. You’re leaning against the counter, your hands hooked over the particleboard. He stands in front of you, about a foot of space between you, and stares at your feet.

“It’s not that I don’t want this,” he says, his voice so low and gravelly you almost have to strain your ears to hear. “It’s not that I don’t want you. Fuck, I’ve wanted you since I laid eyes on you, back in Boston, when that fuck-head was still around. Wanted you back then, want you now, it hasn’t changed.” He inches forward, closing the distance slightly. “But this?” He gestures towards the door — towards Ellie, Bill, the fire outside, the world. “This is much bigger than us. And I can’t—”

“I’m not another thing for you to take care of, Joel,” you murmur, and reach back, pulling your gun out of your waistband, setting it on the counter. “I can handle myself. You taught me how.” His throat bobs. “And you’re right; it’s all so much bigger than us. I’m not an idiot, I’m not gonna stand in your way or make myself a liability. I know the drill. But it doesn’t matter right now.”

You reach up then, pinching the zipper of your sweater, meeting his eyes as you drag it down, ever so slow. His gaze drops from yours only to watch the path, watch the way it falls open once the zipper is undone, revealing your chest and stomach, the black line of your bra, the few scars you’ve gathered over the years.

“This—”

“Stop thinking, Joel,” you tell him, and reach for his hand, pulling it towards you, letting his calloused palm cup the curve of your breast. “Just for tonight.”

“Fuck it,” he grumbles, and then he’s on you. You thought the kiss at the fire was rough, but this is something else entirely. He’s…touch-starved, you realize, with the way he gropes at you, tipping his face into yours while his hands roam every inch of bare skin they can reach. He sighs into your mouth when you let your sweater drop further, the material sliding off your shoulders and down your arms, pooling at your wrists. How long as it been, you wonder distantly, since he touched someone else? Since someone else touched him?

Discarding your sweater, you reach up, working the buttons on his flannel, one by one until his chest is visible, scarred and golden, a light dusting of hair between his pecs. You drag your hand down it, right from the hollow of his throat, riding the soft curve of his stomach until you can hook your fingers into the waistband of his jeans, tugging him closer to you.

Joel looks down as you reach for his belt, unbuckling it quickly, the clinking sound of metal reaching your ears. He’s nearly panting, one hand curled around the side of your neck, the other braced on the wall beside you. You push your face into his neck, pressing your mouth to his jaw as you work his zipper, sticking your hand right down his pants, under the elastic of his boxers.

He’s big. Big and thick and hard as a fucking rock, hips bucking harshly into your hand the moment you close your fingers around him. “So fuckin’ soft,” he breathes out, and you stroke him once, curving your palm over the tip of his cock, the precum that’s gathered there easing your way as you move back down to his base. “Fuckin’ hell, girlie.”

You have the sense to check the ground before you sink to your knees, making sure there’s no shards of glass or anything sharp before you get down, cushioning yourself on his boots. His hands move, both diving into your hair, curling strands around his knuckles, tugging like he had at the fire. It sets your whole body aflame, and you don’t waste any time, pulling his boxers down and taking him into your mouth, swallowing his cock all the way down, groaning as you do it. The tip of him hits the back of your throat and he bucks forward, thrusting into your mouth. It makes your throat jump, but you bite back the gag, digging your nails into the meat of his ass as you pull back, bobbing your head, curling your tongue around him.

He’s watching you; you can feel it. You tip your head back slightly, cock still pressed between your lips, pulling off of him completely with a quiet pop, letting the tip rest against your lips. He just stares down at you, gaze hard as he is, brows pinched as he watches. Slowly, you open your mouth, the head of his cock brushing past your top lip, giving him just the slightest bit of teeth as you take him again. It makes him groan, the sound rumbling through his whole body, one hand smacking against the wall.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he spits out, and before you can move any further, he’s pushing you back, grabbing your bicep and yanking you back up. “Not gonna last if you keep that shit up.”

He kisses you again, possessive and intense, pouring himself into you as he bites at your lip, rides the line of your jaw, closes his mouth around your pulse and sucks a bruise. A reminder, you think; tomorrow, once this is all over, it’ll just be a memory, and the mark on your skin will be all that remains.

Your leggings are shoved down, the seams groaning in protest, and his hand dives into your underwear,  rubbing along your folds, moaning into your mouth when he finds how wet you are. “Gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he grumbles into you, and you can’t help but grin, curling your arm around his shoulders as he crowds you backwards against the counter again. “Pretty little thing.”

Before you can even blink, he’s crouching, tearing your boots off your feet and yanking your pants further down. He shrugs off his flannel then, letting it join the growing pile of clothing on the ground. As he makes his way back up to stand, he pauses, curls his hand around your calf, just below your knee. Everything in you goes tight as a fucking bowstring as he leans in, presses an open-mouthed kiss to the hinge of your leg, letting his lips linger before he’s moving back up, capturing your mouth again, the hand not on your leg diving into your hair, keeping your face against his.

He steps between the bracket of your legs, his hips finding a home against yours. You can feel him, hot and heavy and making you ache, the length of him pressed to your dripping cunt. It’s too much, it’s not enough, you might explode if you don’t feel him now.

You whine into his mouth, and Joel pulls back, the corner of his mouth ticking in a grin. “Somethin’ you need, girlie?”

You just whine again, pushing your hips against him, trying to chase the feeling that’s building, desperate for any kind of friction you can get. “Joel, please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he mutters.

Then he’s inside you.

And it’s fucking earth-shattering.

You can feel every inch of his cock, every ridge and vein as he pushes inside you. He keeps a tight grip on your hair, panting into your mouth as he sinks to the hilt. He’s cursing under his breath the whole way, eyes flicking from yours down to where your bodies are joined and back up again.

“Wanted you for so fuckin’ long,” he breathes out, starting to roll his hips, giving you slow thrusts that only make the ache in you bubble further. Your own hands find his ribs, nails scratching over bare skin and scars. He feels so good. “So fuckin’ long, girlie. You don’t even know. You don’t even—”

His next thrust is harder, the slap of skin on skin echoing through the small space, and you both freeze. There’s no such thing as privacy out here anymore, and you don’t want to wake Ellie. But Joel keeps talking, babbling almost, the words grunted.

You bite your lip, and clamp one hand over his mouth.

His eyes flare for a moment, but you’re careful to leave his nose unblocked, his hot breath pouring over your knuckles. He’s still talking, but the words are muffled now, caught against your palm. His teeth nip, but you don’t care. The pace slows slightly, his grip on your hip tighter as he drives his cock into you. Your eyes want to roll back, but you do your best to keep them trained on Joel’s face.

You just wanna see him fall apart.

It doesn’t take long, his orgasm rumbling through his body. He pulls out of you at the last second, thrusts his cock into the spot where your thigh meets your hip, paints your body with his pleasure. Something feral in you wishes he’d cum inside, had covered your insides with him, but you know that’s not practical. It’s not smart.

Once his breathing has returned to normal, you let go, your hand dropping from his mouth, fingers glancing over his lip before it drops back to his side. Before you can make a move, he shoves two fingers deep in your cunt, curling them against something that makes your eyes roll back and you collapse against him, your pleasure cresting high, something akin to relief flooding through you.

“Didn’t think I was gonna leave you hangin’, did ya?” he growls in your ear. A high-pitched moan falls out of you, and Joel rips your head back, covering your mouth with his so he can swallow down your noises. “Good girl,” he says into you as the pleasure rips through you, your limbs electric and static and your whole body going weightless. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

Both back down on solid ground, something has changed. You know it. You can see it. His gaze isn’t as hard as he finds something to clean his cum from your leg. He kisses you as he helps your sweater back up your arms, pinches the zipper and drags it up, leans in to peck your collarbone before it’s covered by the fabric. You help each other get dressed, dipping a hand down the back of his boxers to squeeze his ass before you yank on his belt buckle. And once you’re both fully clothed, Joel grabs your face, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger, and kisses you slow.

Slow, slow, slow. The complete opposite of the kiss by the fire, of the second one that had sparked your wild fuck. It takes you aback, your body curving into his when his other palm settles in the small of your back and pushes you towards him.

Bill is still sitting watch by the fire when you emerge from the bathroom, and Ellie is still dead asleep, thankfully.

“We should actually get some shut-eye,” Joel mumbles, and you just nod, the weight of the day and the exertion catching up with you. “C’mon.”

You lay out on the blanket next to Ellie, putting yourself between her and Joel as he lies beside you. He fights with a blanket; you’re expecting him to drape it over you — and he does — but you’re not expecting him to slide close to you beneath it, fitting himself against your back.

“I’m gonna leave in the morning,” you whisper after a few minutes, and Joel goes stock-still behind you.

“What?”

“This was just for tonight,” you say, and slowly turn to face him. “You said so yourself.”

His arm is slung over your hips, and his fingers curl in the back of your sweater, like he’s trying to keep you in place. Something in his face flickers, and Ellie’s words from earlier echo in your mind. Like he thinks you’re gonna disappear or something. “I know what I said,” he murmurs, but says nothing further.

“Joel,” you whisper, stretching up until your lips just brush against his. His arm moves up, hand cups your cheek again. “Ask me to stay. Say it.”

“I can’t—” he starts, but cuts himself off, nose dragging along yours as he heaves a breath. “Stay, girlie. Please. Stay with me.”

You just nod.

—————

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