#seeing that gave me physical damage

[orcelito]

So with me getting a big art commission for ITNL, it makes me think about how I've never gotten any commissions for discacc... and like yes ok I've been neglecting my big baby (I'm Sorry,,,,) but my love for it remains. The 500k word count is testament to my dedication to it, even if it's currently on hiatus.

But for me putting actual real money into ITNL and not discacc...

Well...

It ultimately boils down to the fact that in discacc they still look just like their canon counterparts lol so there's really no point to doing a commission for it. ITNL Vash already looks different from his canon counterpart (due to the lightning scars, which are the main focal point of the commission).

So... no it is NOT me saying I love ITNL more. ITNL and discacc both are very dear to me. I'm just doing objectively crazier stuff in ITNL and Thus, big differences have happened. And so it goes.

[desperatepleasures]

thinking of finally looking into what getting an adhd diagnosis would entail. but I'm scared about it. and also angry about it so. lots to process there

[celestiachan]

sometimes i think the only way i can go back to normal is by killing her

[burts-baked-bees]

Okay?

OPLA Sanji x Fem!Reader

{masterlist for OPLA Sanji ongoing story}

Tags: Slight angst to fluff, slight pining, Sanji and reader are close friends and have truama bonded, Sanji has no clue he's in love with reader the poor sap

CW: Launguage, mentions of abuse, slight WCI spoliers, mentions of drinking

“I swear I’m one shift away from throwing myself in the godforsaken ocean.” Sanji huffed angrily as he threw himself down in a nearby booth. The Baratie had cleared out for the night leaving the cooks to clean the line and the waiters to clean the dining room, but halfway through the dreaded cleanup Sanji had both metaphorically and physically thrown in the towel. The dish cloth he had been holding went flying across the room as he put his feet up on the booth he was in and groaned indignantly.

“That old shitbag won’t so much as let me breathe on the line! I’m a cook! Not a fucking waiter!” He yelled, turning his head back towards the kitchen, as if Zeff could hear his complaints.

“You think maybe it has something to do with the fact that you call him an ‘old shitbag’?” A voice came from the other side of his booth. A small smile curled his lips as he sat up some and peeked over the rounded edge of the red leather seat.

“Oh I’m sorry, did I interrupt your nap time madame?” Sanji laughed as he took in the sight of Y/n laying on her back with her eyes closed in the opposite booth. “So sorry for the inconvenience, but aren’t you meant to be cleaning tables?” He teased as Y/n cracked an eye open and glared at him.

“Aren’t you?” She asked with a sly grin, earning an eye roll and angry huff from the blonde.

“Seems the only thing I’m meant to do is slowly die from boredom in this trash heap of a restaurant.” Sanji sighed as he fell back into his seat, pulling out his lighter and messing with the lid. Y/n laughed softly before sitting up and resting her arms on the dividing seat. She placed her head atop her arms and looked at him with a mock pout.

“Awww is the best chef in the East Blue all bummed that his dad doesn't like his cooking? Again?”

Sanji snapped his lighter closed and raised a finger at Y/n, pointing aggressively at her with a snarl.

“I am the greatest chef in the East Blue. Even if that geezer can’t see it.” He stated, earning a chuckle from Y/n as she sat up and raised her hands in surrender.

“Easy now, no need to shout at a lady.” She cooed as Sanji chuckled and gave her an angry smile, hanging his head.

“How dare you throw my own principles back in my face.” He chuckled as he began fidgeting with the silver ring on his finger. Y/n sighed and rested her chin on her folded arms again, smiling softly at the mop of blonde hair in front of her. She reached over the divider and brushed some of his hair from his face, earning a soft hum from Sanji as he closed his eyes.

“I think we both know he’s only doing and saying these things because he wants the best for you. Though I’ll be the first to admit, his way of going about it is absolute shit.” She laughed as she watched his lips curl into a smile. He looked up at her, her fingers brushing against his cheek as he moved.

“Yeah, I know…” He sighed as he leaned his head back against the wall. She pulled her hand back and looked at him with sympathetic eyes. “But you're a stowaway as much as me.” Sanji joked, “And yet I’m the one being treated like a sniveling child every fucking time I step foot in that kitchen.” He huffed as he looked over at her through his bangs. She chuckled as she hung her arms over the back of his booth and cocked her head to the side.

“My dumbass thought I could be a pirate and got stuck here paying off a debt cuz’ my ship damaged the hull of this ‘trash heap of a restaurant’.” She fired back, using his own words. He opened his mouth to speak but soon closed it again as he shook his head.

“Yeah that was pretty dumb.” Sanji joked as he pulled his jacket off and tossed it to the seat beside him. Y/n gawked at him before laughing and reaching forward to hit him softly on the shoulder. He leaned away from her and shouted

“Oi! Don’t damage the goods!”

She looked at him with mocking wide eyes and barked a laugh,

“Both Patty and I would have to disagree with you on that one, lover boy.” She snarked as Sanji rolled his eyes. A calm silence filled the space as Y/n sat up on her knees and looked at Sanji. She could see something was going on inside his head, and she knew him well enough to infer that he wasn’t going to say a damn thing. She studied the way his brow furrowed and noted how his eyes seemed more gray then blue in moments like these.

There was a profound sadness in him that she had only caught glimpses of in her three years aboard this ship. A profound sadness that he had more or less shared with her one drunken night in the bar when they should have been sleeping. A profound sadness that she wished every single day she could lift from him. The two sat in silence as the ship rocked softly under them; Y/n felt compelled to speak, to do anything that might help ease his overactive mind.

“Still, knowing what I know, having Zeff treating you like this can’t be good for the ole’ psyche…”

Sanji tensed up slightly at her words and Y/n mentally kicked herself for making that insinuation. She wanted to help him, but after the words left her mouth she felt a heavy guilt fill her bones. She watched as he shut his eyes and took a deep breath before smiling ever so slightly.

“Trust me, love. I may complain like this from time to time-”

“Almost ninety-five percent of the time."

“Ooookay. Almost ninety-five percent of the time, but nothing is worse than… what I came from.” He gave her a somber smile and pulled out his lighter again, flipping the lid open and closed in an almost rhythmic pattern. She returned his sad smile and pushed her baby hairs from her forehead.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned that.” She spoke softly as she looked out at the empty dining room; the tables were cast in an eerie candle light and the china adorning the tables glimmered like stars. Sanji looked at her, as her attention was placed elsewhere, and smiled fondly. He felt a warmth rise in his chest as he took in the curve of her profile. The slope of her nose, the length of her eyelashes, the round of her cheeks. The candle light of the empty room cast dancing shadows on her face that made her look otherworldly; he felt his smile, and eyes soften as he looked at her.

“Y/n I wouldn’t have told you about my shitty past if I didn’t trust you to check in on me like this every now and again.” Sanji spoke softly as Y/n turned her gaze back to him. She was almost stunned to see the expression on his face. The look in his eyes was, most of the time, reserved for the elegant ladies that entered the restaurant day in and day out. And yet here he was looking at her like that. She brushed the fond gaze off and swayed her head back and forth while giving him an apologetic look.

“I know, but it’s still not my place to dredge up old memories of abuse when I don’t even know the full story.” She responded, playing with the ends of her uniform shirt.

Sanji smiled at her and leaned forward in his seat, one hand braced himself on the seat top while the other reached forward and pulled her towards him. Y/n closed her eyes as she felt his lips press against her forehead.

“I appreciate you checking on me. It shows that you care.” He said softly, his words muffled seeing that his lips were still connected with her forehead. She smiled softly as he placed a loud exaggerated kiss to the skin there before pulling away and holding her face in his hand. “Okay?” He asked with a huge smile. She laughed at his theatrics and moved to stand up, leaving Sanji sitting alone in his booth as he looked up at her standing form.

“Whatever you say-” She began as she reached out a hand to help him up. He took it with a laugh and allowed Y/n to pull him to his feet. “-My favorite Baratie waiter.” She finished as she dropped his hand and started walking away from him, stifling her laughter. Sanji stood there with his jaw dropped as she walked away from him, his shock soon turning into a smile as he watched her shoulders shake from holding in her laughter. He let a chuckle slip out as he pushed up his sleeves and made a beeline for her.

“How DARE!” He yelled as he grabbed her from behind and lifted her off the ground slightly laughing as she yelped and then dissolved into laughter when she broke free. She began running to a nearby table to put distance between herself and him as she pointed at him,

“Not fair!” She yelled, watching as Sanji pointed back at her.

“Don’t you dare get me started on ‘fair’!” He responded as he laughed.

____

Zeff stood in the doorway to the kitchen watching as Sanji ran around tables with that wannabe pirate waitress. He observed in silence as the pair laughed and threw dish towels at each other instead of cleaning tables.

The small boy he once knew, terrified of making connections with those around him due to some dark past he kept to himself, was smling and laughing as he chased around what could only be discribed as a friend.

A small smile curled his weathered lips as he shook his head and walked away, the sounds of youth fading into nothing.

“Not bad, little eggplant… Not bad…”

[fangswbenefits]

Confession

Summary: You come to Miguel when he least expects, and now there is no turning back.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x spider-woman!reader

Word count: 3.9k

18+. Miguel POV. Obsessive Miguel. Inexperienced/V*rgin reader. Oral s*x. Body worship. Dry h*mping. Br*eding k*nk.

Part 1 - Previous part

Miguel chose to give you space and time.

For two whole days, he had kept all interactions with you at a minimum. 

Not because he wanted to, but because he had to.

It pained him that things between you two were now in this limbo. You were still your sweet self as expected, but Miguel had soured. Anyone within a three meter radius could spot it.

So when he walked into HQ with blood dripping from his face, no one dared approach him besides the occasional spider asking if he needed anything.

He dismissed all of them and headed to Lab 2 in search of a first-aid kit to deal with the bleeding bruises. 

"Need help, boss?" a fellow spider offered.

Miguel shook his head, and kept going through the countless shelves until you came into his field of vision right in the corner of his eye.

His heart immediately skipped a beat as usual.

Holding a small bag in your hand, you rummaged through it and handed him two pieces of gauze.

"Thanks," he grumbled under his breath, as he pressed the soft fabric to his face.

"What happened?"

Miguel scoffed and turned his head away from you, not wanting to extend the conversation.

He heard you heave a sigh. "Okay, Mr. Grumpy. Can you please move away, then?"

This time, he shifted to glare at you in confusion.

You smiled warmly and pointed at the lab counter that was covered in drops of blood.

Oh.

He grabbed the bag from your hands and began pacing towards his station, but it seemed that you had no intention of parting ways with him just yet.

And that hurt more than any of his wounds.

Having you around was intoxicating enough, but having to go days without barely seeing or interacting with you, had taken a toll on him.

And the result had been sloppiness and being caught off guard by an anomaly.

Very amateur of him.

Very unlike him.

And all because he had filled his mind with you, since he couldn't physically have you.

But you insisted on being present in his life even when you didn't have to.

Miguel walked through the door and let it slide shut, knowing fully well that wouldn't deter you from stepping inside as well. 

"Let me take a look. Please."

He threw you a side-glance, and stopped to glare at his own reflection on the nearby glass wall instead, and determined that the damage could have been much worse. 

"Miguel O'Hara, stop being stubborn and let me take a look."

Your kind voice was chewing at his nerves, and he had to take a deep breath to stop himself from snapping.

He'd rather not have you at all than having your pity.

But then again, there was still that part of him that craved your attention.

And he gave in, like the fool he was. 

"Fine."

You were standing by his desk, and he saw the triumph glimmer in your face. "Take a seat."

He swallowed and did what you asked, allowing your hands to cup his face. Your touch had his stomach flip, and he couldn't bring himself from breaking eye contact with you, even when you moved your finger under his chin, tilting his head back slightly.

"Right," you said in a low voice, before removing the bloodied gauze. "It's very superficial. I think I can just use liquid stitches."

He figured as much, but his focus wasn't on his bodily bruises anymore, but on the delicate touch of your hands, the intensity of your roaming eyes, and, above all else, your warmth.

"Hold the bag a bit higher."

Miguel offered it to you, and you smiled in return.

That sweet smile of yours that had him tightly wrapped around your finger for so long.

His sweet girl…

Your touch left his skin briefly as you gathered the needed material to fix him. Miguel allowed his eyes to flutter shut, occasionally hissing from the sting of the antiseptic as you cleaned his wounds. His mind went blank for a few seconds, and he only focused on enjoying how you took care of him.

Miguel had forgotten what it felt like to be taken care of. He had spent so much time looking after others, that having the roles switched felt so foreign, yet so welcome.

"I didn't think you could ever get injured," you said with a faint chuckle, breaking the comfortable silence.

Miguel knew you were trying to lighten the mood, but he remained silent.

You worked on him with impressive expertise, patching him up.

Once you were done, you lightly patted the edges of the adhesive that covered his wounds and stepped away.

Pride settled on your face, and you moved to sit on the chair across his. "Looking good as new."

"Thank you."

He wished he was strong enough to ask you to leave, but he had missed these little moments. He had accepted you needed time and space, but it still hurt to think that he could have been there for you, and that you had pushed him away instead.

You drummed your fingers on the table for a while before taking a deep breath. "Miguel… we should talk."

"What about?"

"Us."

Miguel slowly straightened in his seat. 

You had his full attention now.

"I don't want things between us to feel awkward," you began, eyes fixed on his. "I don't want us to grow apart…"

He hadn't seen this coming. He assumed it would take longer than this for you to come to him again.

He wasn't often wrong about many things, but he had been wrong about this.

Cocking an eyebrow at you, he leaned back. "Then what do you want?"

Your gaze faltered briefly. "I thought it'd be easier being with you intimately. It felt less… suffocating. It made it easier for me to bury my feelings." You paused and swallowed. "I know people do this casually, and I assumed you felt that way, too…"

He remained silent for a while, slowly digesting the information you had just dropped on him. 

It felt like a confession of sorts, but that last part left a sour taste in his mouth.

"You assumed wrongly," he finally spoke, face twisting into a light scowl. "Is this why you pushed me away the other day? Because you think I only look at you that way?"

Your eyes shot up and you shook your head. "I didn't push you away… I… never meant for that, anyway. I just needed time to think," you said in a whisper. "Like I said, I know some people do this casually… and I would be fine with you just wanting that. I still am," you corrected yourself.

A part of Miguel felt incredulous at this turn of events. Were you confessing you had deeper feelings for him? Or was it all surface-level? 

But another part of him wasn't allowing him to fully savour the first possibility. He wanted you. He needed you. But the conclusion you had drawn of him stirred annoyance inside him.

"What do you want from me?" He snapped a bit too harshly.

Your mouth parted, but no sound came out.

"Sex? I can give you that," he said dryly. "But that is not all I want. Is that all you want?"

You looked restless. "I… I think I want more."

"You think? I don't want anything from you that you won't give willingly," he said in a softer tone this time. "This doesn't have to be more than it is. If all you want is intimacy, I can help you out. But I wish for more, and I want you aware of that."

You remained still for a while as if weighing your options.

Not long after, you nodded.

There was absolutely no doubt inside him. He was sure of how he felt about you, and he was too desperate to have anything he could take. Even casual sexual intimacy if that was what it took to soothe his frustration.

But he couldn't hide his true intentions any longer, and had to make things crystal clear for you.

"What about Tom?"

Your eyes widened. "Tom?"

"Yes. How do you feel about him?"

He needed reassurance.

"We'll work on rebuilding our friendship… but that's it."

That was good enough. Realistically, Miguel didn't expect you to sever your bond to your childhood friend. He didn't even want you to, so long as you weren't getting your feelings hurt.

You then rose to your feet and walked to him with unsure steps. Once you were in front of him, Miguel instinctively parted his legs, allowing your to close the distance between you two.

You glanced around you, and Miguel knew what you were silently assessing.

With a quick tap of a finger on his watch, rendering the glass windows opaque.

The newfound privacy made you visibly relax, and you brought your hands to either side of his head, before raking gentle fingers through his hair.

Miguel had to bite back a moan, and tilted his head back, angling it perfectly with yours.

His heart drummed rapidly inside him as you lowered your face to press the softest kiss to his forehead, and he brought his arms to envelop you into a tight embrace, his chin resting in between your breasts.

There was comfort in this type of silence.

Actions did speak louder than words, after all.

The way you began trailing kisses down his face, carefully avoiding his wounds, had him melting into your touch.

You hesitated upon reaching his lips, hovering over them with your own.

He could feel your breath fanning them rhythmically, and he felt the impending erection stirring down below.

And then you kissed him.

It was shy and controlled at first, but he quickly parted his lips, deepening the kiss. You moaned into him first, gently tugging at strands of his hair. Miguel's groan tore through his throat and he dropped his hands to your waist, gripping them tightly and bringing you closer to his strained erection.

You jolted once you felt it nudging your legs, breaking the kiss momentarily.

"Hard already?" 

The genuine tease in your voice awoke in him the urge to breed you. It was primal and intense, and he knew he should keep that to himself for now. However, he would need to know if you were on birth control eventually. 

"You make it easy," he chose to say, placing one hand to the back of your neck, pulling you into yet another kiss.

He would devour you if you allowed him to.

His tongue slipped past his lips and met yours halfway. You tugged at his hair again and he bucked his hips against you.

He was so painfully hard and already dripping precum.

Just for you.

His sweet girl.

You let him take control and only parted from him once his other hand began to move to your front, fingers dipping between your legs.

Your body language told him to immediately stop, and he did.

"I'm sorry."

You shook your head. "I'm… still getting used to this…" your voice was but a whisper. "Can I… come over to your place later today?"

His cock was throbbing impatiently, craving release from his tight digital suit, but he nodded.

He wanted you to feel comfortable and safe around him, so he placed your needs above his.

He silently vowed to always do this.

You brought your lips to his unarmed cheek and pressed a fleeting peck to it.

"See you later, Mr. Grumpy," you said with a smile before exiting through the sliding door.

Miguel looked down at the visible outline of his cock and contemplated easing some of the tension, but he decided against it.

He would gladly build up all the frustration within him and only you would be able to relieve him from it.

You came to him late at night, before the clock struck midnight.

For the second time that day, you had come to him.

Your steps echoed through the hall and you came into sight, immediately earning his undivided attention. 

"Hey, you."

Miguel's lips twitched into a faint smile. "Hey."

You were wearing a flowery dress that trapped his gaze. It fit you perfectly, but he couldn't wait to get it off you.

Laughing nervously, you took determined steps to where he sat on his couch until you were close enough. 

Miguel met your eyes and watched carefully as you lowered yourself to straddle his waist. Instinctively, his hands slipped under your dress to grip your hips into him.

Then he noticed you weren't wearing anything underneath.

You giggled, biting your lip teasingly. "Is this too much?"

"It's not even enough."

He caressed your skin with his thumbs, as he positioned you right on top of his hardening cock, that was now stirring slowly inside his sweatpants.

You gasped softly as your folds parted to accommodate the underside of his cock, increasing the pressure on your clit.

Miguel considered immediately removed the only layer of clothing that was in the way, but he wanted to feel you soak the fabric.

"I really, really like you," you said through half-hooded eyes, caressing the edges of the bandage covering the wound on his cheek.

Then, you took his lips in yours.

This time, you were the one taking the lead and he let you set the pace. He tasted the impatience and hunger in you, and helped you grind against him. You were a fast learner. You already knew how to sway your hips sensually against his cock, drawing a low groan from him.

Miguel felt his cock fully harden just from feeling your body undulating under the palms of his hands. 

You were going to kill him one day. He was sure of this.

Your hands moved from his shoulder to your chest, undoing the cute buttons that held the dress together.

He broke the kiss so he could marvel at your breasts coming into view, as you allowed the fabric to slide down your shoulders and arms.

The nipple piercings glistened, and he felt his cock twitch from the sight of the spider pendant dangling from each of them.

He wanted to make you custom ones. Maybe with his own symbol. Or his initials. He wanted to mark you as his, and what better way than this?

"Please touch me," you begged, arching your back lightly.

Sweet.

Hungry.

His.

He brought both hands to your chest and grazed your nipples with the pads of both thumbs, hardening them.

You moaned softly, and kept riding his clothed cock.

"Can I tug gently?"

"Please…"

Miguel's hips jerked to meet yours, and he felt your wetness finally seeping through his pants.

He twirled your nipples at first in between his fingers, before gripping the metal piercing, tugging ever so slightly in awe.

You gasped loudly this time, stilling yourself as he admired the jewelry.

"I'll make you custom ones," he promised, as he positioned himself to press a kiss to one nipple. "With my symbol."

You whimpered with a nod. "Yes…"

You'd look so pretty being marked by him.

He wrapped his lips around the nipple, capturing and twirling the pendant with his tongue.

Too bad you hadn't been bred yet. He would have loved to taste your milk as you carried his child. 

You pressed down on him, and the motion of your pussy dragging along his cock was enough to draw the first beads of precum.

He couldn't care less that he was about to get soaked in it, as he knew his body was only trying to prepare itself to be inside yours.

"Slowly… Miguel…" you pleaded in between moans, burying your hands in his hair. "Miguel…"

He could easily get addicted to you mumbling his name like that, but he did release the nipple, admiring how perky it looked.

Before he could have it in his mouth for a second round, you slipped off of him, settling on the floor and in between his legs.

He quickly spotted the damp spot along the outline of his cock from you grinding viciously on him.

"What is it?" he asked, unsure of what to do next.

A faint pout settled on your lips. "Can I… can you show me how to… do it?"

His eyes widened at the realisation of what you meant when your gaze landed on his crotch.

"Are you sure?"

You merely nodded, hands grasping at his waistband, gently pulling it down until his cock sprang free.

Immediately, you straightened yourself and shifted closer. He could feel your curious gaze on him, as strings of precum dripped from the tip.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, wondering how long it would take for him to cum from this.

"Open your mouth," he breathed, and you immediately complied. "Just give it a few licks first."

You nodded and darted out your tongue to press it flat along the underside of his cock.

He immediately flinched, but still gripping it at the base to to push it towards you.

You pulled back with a pout. "What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing. It feels really good…"

A sweet smile tugged at your lips. "What now?"

He inhaled sharply, trying to keep himself from going over the edge too soon.

"Lick the tip…" 

This time, you wrapped your fingers around him, and positioned yourself until your tongue grazed along the tip, collecting the thick droplets of precum.

He had to grip the cushions on his couch to steady himself, not wanting to accidentally shove his cock into your mouth.

You kept your eyes on him, working your tongue around the sensitive tip until he saw the strings of precum mixed with your saliva begin to dribble from the corners of your mouth.

He immediately pressed his eyes shut.

The visual stimulation would only make him reach his peak faster, and he wanted you to be able to take his cock in your mouth before he exploded.

You kept giving him quick licks, further edging him.

"You need to stop…" he groaned, his hips lifting from the couch. "Please…"

Once you did, he opened his eyes again only to be met by the thick and long strings of precum of either side of your chin to drip down to your breasts.

"Too much?" you asked shyly, swiping your tongue along your bottom lip.

Fuck.

You looked so fucking delicious.

But he needed more.

"Do you think you can fit it in your mouth now?"

You quickly nodded. "I think so."

Miguel knew he was not going to last long. "Go slowly…"

You didn't need to be told twice, and craned your neck before lowering yourself and sliding the tip past your lips.

His hips instantly bucked, further sliding in and nearly gagging you.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out, lovingly caressing your cheek.

You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it was hard to do with his thick cock stuffing your mouth.

"Suck gently…" he said with a groan that quickly turned into a hiss once you began to suckle softly. "Just like that…"

You were so good for him…

He saw your eyes watering slightly as you took him even deeper. "Don't be greedy… you're doing just fine, sweet girl."

By this point, more beads of precum and saliva began to spill from the corners of your mouth, streaming down your face until they connected under your chin into a single strand that dangled further and further down.

Miguel felt his balls tighten lightly as a warning sign.

He was actually impressed with how long it was taking for him to reach an orgasm.

And that was when he decided he didn't want to cum just yet.

Slowly, he gripped your chin and slid off your mouth, earning a muffled protest from you until he was fully out, a string of precum bridging your lower lip to his tip.

"Miguel… why?"

You were pouting again and he nearly lost it. 

"Come here," he asked, trying not to focus too much on how his body was throbbing for release.

You wiped the wetness from your face with the back of your hand, but did as you were told, standing up.

"Do you trust me?"

You nodded right away. 

"I want you to lay on your back," he instructed with a sultry voice. "Then I want your legs over my shoulders."

You seemed to hesitate at first, but moved to sit on his thighs, as Miguel grabbed your hips to help you slide into his desired position. Your legs parted to rest on his shoulders and he effortless lifted your hips.

"Oh…" you drawled out as your dress slid up your thighs, until you were fully exposed to him.

Miguel almost groaned at the sight of your swollen clit peeking through your soaked folds.

"Tell me if it gets too much."

"Why would I-" your words did in your mouth the moment he dragged his tongue across your folds, tasting you for the first time.

He felt your hips jerk lightly under his touch, but he had decided to bring you over the edge with just his mouth.

So, naturally, Miguel began to eat you out.

His thirst for you was satiated with each flick of his tongue across your throbbing clit, yanking the most delicious gasps and whimpers from you.

He first let his tongue slide past your opening, as his nose pressed against your clit.

You choked on a sob as he went deeper. "Oh…oh my…"

Your wetness quickly began to coat his his lips and chin, as he continued to feast on your tast.

"Miguel… I… please…"

His cock twitched at the sound of your voice, and he slipped out of you only to wrap his lips around your clit.

Your hips bucked violently into him, and he had to still you with both hands, so he could properly suckle on it.

More wetness spilled from you, fueling Miguel's ego, as it was the best indicator that your body was yearning for him to breed you. He felt it pool in his tongue and eagerly swallowed as much as he could, feeling intoxicated with your taste.

He sucked a bit more fiercely and could tell you were close. So, so close.

Come for me, cariño…

You were mumbling his name with other incoherent words as you reached your peak.

As soon as he felt you tip over the edge, he let go of your clit and plunged his tongue inside, so he could feel your contracting rhythmically around him.

Your whimpers turned into loud grunts as your orgasm spread throughout your body like wildfire. Your legs began to shake and he wrapped his fingers around his own cock, pumping it in unison with each contraction.

His senses were completely flooded and it didn't take long for his balls to tighten and the first spurts of cum to gush from the tip.

As you descended from your bliss, Miguel entered his, leaning back against the backrest and groaning loudly as he rolled his own hips, desperately fucking his hand.

His fangs were fully on display as your wetness dripped from them while also running down his chin and neck.

By the time he was able to come to his senses again, you had slipped from his grasp, kneeling on the floor with your head pressed to his thigh, breathing erratically.

The two of you remained silent, as both struggled to even out your breaths.

His cum had landed on his shirt, seeping through the fabric and dribbling down his toned abdomen.

"Do you want to spend the night…" Miguel finally managed to find his words again, caressing your cheek approvingly.

You were panting heavily and could only nod.

Part 8

Masterlist

[b1rds3ye]

“Your Hoodie? No, My Hoodie.”

How the boys react to you stealing their hoodies/clothes, if they would steal yours, and other cute clothing shenanigans

Characters: Captain John Price, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra

GN!Reader w/ no physical descriptions

Genre: Pure Fluff

Word Count: 1.8k (~300 each)

Warning: A little spice but no smut

A/N: After writing some drama/angst pieces I figured some pure fluff will do me good 😌

Captain John Price

Price’s fashion sense has become a little dated, so while he has one or two hoodies, he owns a lot more jumpers and vests (especially those puffy ones that all American dads seem to wear in colder weather)

He also doesn’t wear said hoodies all that much so if you steal them, he’ll likely just compliment your attire like a gentleman then go about his day. When he does notice the hoodie as his, he doesn’t care, you can have it

“Lovely top, darling.” “Price, sweetheart, this is yours.” “… Ah, so it is.”

However Price will notice if you use one of his jumpers or sweaters, not that he has a problem with it. In fact he encourages it, he thinks you look far better in them than he ever will and you actually make his clothes look fashionable when all he ever cared about was practicality

It becomes a bit of a love language of his, for the sake of being a gentleman and as he gets older he’s more aware of the cold. Price is always making sure you’re suitably warm before going outside when it’s chilly and he’s always giving you his own clothes to layer yourself with

Ever a traditional man, Price loves doing up your outerwear for you, as you keep talking and he nods along with deft fingers making work of buttons or zippers. There’s something intimate about it, having his hands so close to your abdomen, with him being responsible for your warmth and consequently your wellbeing

Has considered asking you for a hoodie or item of clothing of yours to bring him comfort on missions but eventually decided against it. His operations get messy unexpectedly and quickly, heaven forbid if he loses your items. He doesn’t have the best habits either and he’ll never forgive himself if he gave your clothes the lingering smell of cigar smoke

Simon “Ghost” Riley

When off duty, hoodies are his go to. They’re simple, easy to put on, the hood obscures more of his features and with his stature they help him look terrifying. He has quite a few but they’re all the same dark shades so for the longest time you thought he only had a couple

He always tells you and Soap that he’s “plenty fashionable” and you genuinely can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not. All you know is that it looks like he wears the same outfit 24/7

The first time he saw you in his clothes, it activated something in him. It was an almost animalistic possessiveness, like wearing his clothes meant you were willing to be owned by him

“Fuckin’ hell,” is all he can say, it’s quiet, barely audible but just loud enough for you to hear and get the hairs on your back standing. You feel like prey being found by the predator as he stalks up to you and attacks you with kisses

Seeing you in his clothes is like a public broadcast that you’re with him, that you’re proud to be with him and Simon wishes he can reciprocate but he’s got a reputation to uphold but most importantly, he doesn’t want to put a target on your back by associating you with him

He still does little things just so he can feel connected to you though, he’ll gladly slip accessories under his sleeves or in his pockets to remind him of you

He has taken one of your hoodies with him on long missions, he swears it’s the only thing that keeps him sane when he brings it close and gets the scent of you and home. He’s not concerned about having it damaged, he leaves it at base, neatly folded and stashed away like a treasure that he guards with his life

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Has a respectable amount of hoodies, he likes how comfy they are and he wears them well. The only thing better than him wearing them, is you wearing them

He’s a tease, he wants you to take his hoodies but he’ll never outright say so. You won’t have a choice though when he straight up steals and hides all of your outerwear, leaving you to drift over to his wardrobe and take something

And then he acts incredibly smug about it as if he didn’t orchestrate the entire damn thing

He gets giddy whenever he sees you wear his things, you just look so damn cute. If you’re leaving for an event you better hope your friends don’t mind you being half an hour late because he will latch onto you, begging you to stay with him

Johnny will also try to wear your clothes. Doesn’t matter if you’re a few sizes smaller than him, he’s not afraid of prancing around in a crop top in the confines of your home (or in public if he’s very tipsy). Are you a similar or larger size to him? Well call Johnny a communist because it’s not your closet but our closet now. Don’t be surprised if some of your favourite clothes “magically” disappear

He becomes very proud and energetic when wearing your stuff or vice versa, he puffs his chest out like a pigeon but he does get very serious and apologetic if he accidentally damages your things and will immediately buy you a new one

A chronic clothes stealer, he has most definitely taken your non-important items with him to missions. He stores them under his camp bed, he calls it a mini shrine that he worships for good luck

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Probably the most fashionable out of the 141 (although the bar isn’t set particularly high), he has a range of hoodies for various casual occasions, dark for covert missions, brighter if he’s just out with friends, you name it, he’s probably got it

His clothes are so high quality you honestly feel bad so you initially avoided using his clothes, which just broke Kyle’s heart because he’s an absolute sucker for the trope of partners sharing their things. He has to near beg you to take his stuff

But when you finally do? Especially out of your own volition? Kyle is all over you, praising you to the moon and back about how good you look, trying to encourage you to take more of his things

Extra points if you borrow his hats, Kyle swears it’s the cutest sight in existence and now he has a reason to look forward to a sunny day

Loves cuddling you while you’re wearing his hoodie, particularly where you’re lying on the couch and he’s on top of you, head on your stomach or chest. He has to give himself credit, he bought some very soft hoodies and on you with his head listening to your heartbeat has him feeling like he’s lying on a cloud

He adores how at the end of the day his clothes end up smelling like you instead, he’s almost tempted to never wash them

He will never gift you clothes, if you want clothes you’re taking them from his wardrobe and that’s final. The only exception is if he wants you two to wear stylish matching outfits where he’ll supply you with what you need

Alejandro Vargas

A man of style, Alejandro much prefers his turtleneck jumpers (also because he knows he absolutely kills it) but he does have a hoodie or two if he’s really prioritising discretion or comfort for the day

Seeing you in his hoodie gets him incredibly riled up, even if to you it’s not incredibly stylish or sexy. The instant he lays eyes on you in his clothes he’s rushing up to pull you into a passionate kiss, hands tugging and massaging you through the thick fabric. Whenever you have to pull away he’s purring in Spanish before pulling you back in

Obsessed with seeing you in his clothes, if you ask for a jacket he’s automatically going to his wardrobe. If you want your own clothes you’re going to have to get it yourself because Alejandro can be very stubborn when he wants to be and will only bring you his own attire

Alejandro will gladly borrow your clothes if he can, but only in private. It destroys him inside because he desperately wants to be publicly associated with you but he will never risk your safety associating with him in Las Almas for his own selfish wishes

An absolute gentleman, he loves putting clothes on you. He opens up the hoodie so it’s easier for you to slip your arms in, he zips it up for you, and then he tugs at the folds so it compliments you perfectly. In his world, you’re the emperor and he’s but a humble and grateful servant, he’s not letting you lift a finger

The only thing he could enjoy more than putting on your clothes is taking them off for you. Not even in a lustful manner (although that’s not off the table for him), it just feels intimate, like he’s pulling armour off of you, with you entrusting him with your most vulnerable self and he’s honoured you trust him this much

Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra

He likes his cosiness and practicality so he has a fair lot of hoodies and he’s more than happy to lend them to you. You don’t even have to ask, he just assumed that when you two became a couple his stuff was yours too

But when Rudy first saw you in his clothes, he was taken aback. He never thought much of his clothes, they just look decent and offered functionality, so how did you make such mediocre items look so damn good?

Gets oddly sentimental when he sees you in his clothes. It’s such a domestic sight, one he thought he’d never see when he dedicated himself to Las Almas. Every time he’s holding you close, peppering your face with brief but hefty kisses. You won’t be escaping his grip anytime soon

Rodolfo will only borrow your clothes if you explicitly tell him you can. He adores you and treats all your items as something sacred, it feels almost blasphemous using your things

When he does use your items, he realised it’s been a long time since he’s felt bashful. Not that he’s embarrassed or ashamed of you, far from it. He just knows some of his soldiers will ask and he’s near giddy that he can talk about you

Another clothes helper, he giggles when he sees you get tangled and lost in his slip on hoodie, accidentally trying to put your head through the arm sleeve. He gently guides you, and when you finally poke your head out, he gives you a soft smile and a kiss on the forehead as though he hasn’t seen you in months

“Ah, I found you mì amor.”

Call of Duty Masterlist

[yandereunsolved]

🐉 ✧ Yandere Aemond Targaryen ✧ 🐉(part 2)

With you, this has been Aemond's only safe place since you were hired when he was but a child, and so were you. He would see you following the other maids and workers around like a lost duckling, constantly tripping over yourself, and failing at the simplest tasks. You grew proficient over time, but that didn't stop the harassment that came from young Aegon and the others. He had to become blinded in one eye to truly see you.

He thought you foolish at first. He pitied your futile attempts to reject Aegon's advances. Your education was nonexistent, and your manners only the minimum. You had not the physical strength of the guard nor the cunning that every power-hungry noble possessed. You did have two things that made you worth his time: your curiosity and comfort.

You didn't gasp in horror after his horrific disfiguration. You didn't scold him for not being wise or mighty enough to win the battle of being ambushed. Chastising him was not within the rights of your station, but many below him still did. Perhaps that is why he was so surprised when you were the only maid who offered to change his bandages and report to the maesters on his healing.

As you got bolder in his care, you dared to lightly caress the scar with the pad of your thumb. He would never admit how embarrassed he felt that you had taken such a liking to him. You seemed so content with the fact that he was now damaged goods. What lady would want a man with such a deformity?

You even gave him a porcelain eye for his socket as a gift. It wasn't the best made, but it was the most you could afford. You spent half of your weekly wages on such a thing. Aemond could feel a fiery sensation rising in his gullet. His fingers caressing the porcelain and meekly thanking you before dismissing you back to your duties.

He never wore the gift, as it wasn't what he had truly hoped for. Even as a sapphire remained in his empty socket, he always kept that glass eye in a wooden box right next to his bedside. He sat up many nights with pathetic droplets of sadness rolling down his pale face while clutching the object. He couldn't be strong all alone, but your token of good faith helped him get through his darkest hours.

That is when his courtship of you truly began. It was subtle. He had grown into a young man, and you had grown to be a fine worker within the walls of the Red Keep. Many would be suspicious if he always asked for you to care for him and do your duties near his room instead of having to traverse all throughout the castle.

He would leave you small gifts, like how a dragon will offer dead beasts to its rider as a sign of affection. They would be flowers from the gardens, trinkets, and silk cloths. Small notes of words that are translated into High Valyrian. "'Avy Jorrāelan', it means I love you in High Valyrian. I am sure your lips are sweeter than any pastry the finest chefs could bake." The short notes became increasingly violent and lewd over time. "One day, I will kill every man who has touched you who is not me. I will ravage you atop their dead corpses, and you will see their blood mixing in with my spilled seed." You stopped reading them. So he switched to another tactic. 

He had you carry his gear when he went to ride Vhagar. He introduced you to her, and she loved you just as he did. He could see it in her eyes. He's never seen the savage beast look so at peace. Vhagar went as far as to gently grab ahold of your clothing and tear at it. It caused you to become fearful and hide behind Aemond, but there was a certain mischief behind his dragon's actions.

"My prince, I fear your dragon dislikes me." You mutter so softly that his ears are barely able to pick the words up.

"I think she is very fond of you. If she hated you, then she would have eaten you already." There was an air of amusement present in his voice that you haven't ever heard before.

"Should I take comfort in that?" You inquired while a bit confused about this peculiar situation.

"You should."

"I shall, then. She is your dragon, and you know her best. You always end up being right about these things—I mean you are extremely intelligent. You are just always able to figure these things out. Your good looks and charm help to. I—" You felt you said too much and shut your mouth.

Aemond learned to tease you in such a way that would get you to spill these thoughts of yours. He did it so shamelessly. He made sure those bastards knew you were taken through his method. He almost kissed you just to prove that neither Jacaerys nor Lucerys would ever be able to lay a hand on you. He didn't have to worry about Aegon anymore. His drunk of a brother learned well not to trifle with you after he gave him a broken nose and a bloodied lip. If anyone dared upset you, especially those not his kin, well, they have particularly gruesome deaths.

All of this and you thought him mostly indifferent to you. None of the most twisted emotions ever rose to the surface when he was around you. He always waited until in private. He knew he had to keep you in his clutches. He couldn't scare you away quite yet. 

"Dear?"

"Me?" You squeak in surprise.

Aemond tucks a dragon's breath flower behind your ear as you turn to face him. No words escape him. Only a contented smirk appears. Before you have an opportunity to question him, he walks off. How strange. You gently adjust the flower in your hair. It makes you oddly giddy. 

"How cute." You murmur.

Aemond heard your words. He couldn't wait for the morrow. He will take you back to Vhagar and confess his love. He will offer you to become his spouse. His mother surely wouldn't be happy, but he would. And if the worst comes, he will burn down all of Westeros just to be with you.

[cherienymphe]

Teenage Dirtbag XIII

JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron

Warnings: mentions of NON-CON, mentions of DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

⭑

“Okay,” the woman before you exhaled, looking at your paper work. “While broken, your nose should be much better in about three weeks.”

Rafe’s hand gently massaged your shoulders at that, standing at your side as the doctor gave you her final prognoses on your situation. Her dark eyes scanned the paper, humming to herself as she glanced at you. That particular action made your heart skip a beat, and you tried to ignore how nervous you felt. Rafe had done most of the talking—for obvious reasons—but you couldn’t forget how almost disbelieving she’d sounded when he told her what happened.

“I’d recommend icing it for about twenty minutes every 1-2 hours while awake, and I highly suggest taking some Ibuprofen while pain persists…”

Her words died in the air as she trailed off, a small sigh escaping as she flipped the paper.

“You’re going to experience some swelling and bruising for sure, but it’s that knee of yours I’m most concerned about.”

At that, she looked at you head on.

“You said you landed right on it?”

At your nod, she continued.

“I can’t imagine how fast you were falling to do this much damage. It’s definitely fractured,” she commented.

Your heart sank at that, and even though you’d long suspected this was more than just a bruised knee, you didn’t relish hearing it. You felt Rafe lean down, and you slowly blinked when he pressed his face into your hair, rubbing your arms in what you were sure was meant to be a soothing manner.

“What do we need to do?”

She lifted her gaze again at the sound of his voice, and you didn’t think you liked the way she looked at him.

“Rafe…right? You’re the boyfriend?” he nodded, and she spoke again. “We’ll be getting her a splint to hold her leg in place while the bone heals, and I’m making physical therapy mandatory.”

“Of course,” he said.

She looked at him for what felt like a long time before her eyes met yours again, much softer now.

“You’re going to need to stay off of it a lot, okay? We need to keep as much weight off of it as possible, and I’ll just go ahead and write you a prescription for Ibuprofen seeing as you’ll need it for both your nose and your knee.”

Just then Rafe’s phone vibrated, and you turned to look at him. He gently squeezed your arm as he looked at it, throwing you a small smile.

“Your parents are downstairs. I’m going to go get them,” he said, giving you a brief kiss on the lips. “Let me know what else she says.”

With one last final squeeze, he left you, and you weren’t stupid.

You knew it was a warning rather than comfort.

“It’s going to take about six weeks to heal. I’d personally even give it a week or two more just to be sure,” she continued once he was gone.

At your nod, she studied you, and with a sigh, she pressed her clipboard against her leg. You didn’t miss the way she glanced at the door, and you reached up before thinking better of it, tempted to touch your nose. You dropped your hand back into your lap.

“Your boyfriend said you fell…”

You nodded, swallowing.

“Yeah, I… I wasn’t paying attention,” you gave a bitter chuckle. “The stairs in his house are insane.”

She gave a slow nod.

“So, this happened at his house?”

“Yes.”

Her face was unreadable, and you watched the way she pursed her lips.

“…and where was he when this happened?”

You didn’t like her questions, nor the tone in her voice, and considering you were already on medication, the last thing you needed was to let something slip. You recalled Rafe’s harsh grip on your face just before answering the door for the EMTs, the way he’d sneered at you to behave. After all, this was your fault somehow, a mess you’d gotten yourself into, and he was going to be the one to clean it up.

“The bathroom. I thought he told you that…”

Her smile was slow.

“He did,” she confirmed. “I just wanted to rehash things, understand exactly what happened.”

At your slight frown, she continued, albeit reluctantly.

“We just don’t normally see these kinds of injuries with someone who fell down the stairs,” she admitted to you, and your heart sank. “The knee…sure…I suppose, but the broken nose…”

She hummed to herself.

“It’s a head on injury. Like something came straight at it.”

The silence between you was thick, and you forced yourself to speak.

“I don’t know what you’re getting at, but…that’s what happened,” you assured her.

You didn’t miss the slight way in which her face fell, and she glanced at the door again.

“Rafe Cameron… Is it safe to assume he’s Ward Cameron’s son?”

Your silence was answer enough, and before she could say anything else, you heard the man in question’s voice coming down the hall, your parents’ mixed within.

Your mother was ever dramatic, rushing to your side and almost touching your face before thinking better of it. You assured her you were fine, hating the tears in her eyes. Your father seemed just as worried, but he handled it better, only turning to the doctor to ask her everything he wanted an answer to. Your mother pressed her lips to your forehead, sniffling.

“Sweetheart, just what were you looking at to pay so little attention to where you were going, huh?”

It seemed more of a rhetorical question as she kissed your forehead again, going on about getting you home as soon as possible. You heard your father talking to the doctor about a wheelchair, and you glanced over just as Rafe came to stand by your bed again. His hand was gentle on your back.

“I’ll come over as soon as everything is finished up here. She doesn’t need to be on her feet, at all,” he said to her. “I already feel bad enough that I wasn’t around when it happened.”

“Oh hush, Rafe,” she told him, briefly pulling him into a hug. “You’re always looking after her, such a knight in shining armor, but you couldn’t have prevented this. Let’s just be glad it’s not much worse.”

She smiled at you, touching your chin, and you gave her a small one back.

When she looked away to join in on the conversation with your father and the doctor, Rafe’s hand slid up towards your neck. His fingers pressed into the skin, and a shudder crawled down your spine just as you heard him softly exhale. When you glanced up at him, those baby blues of his were already focused on you, and you blinked as he leaned in.

Mindful of your nose, he pressed a gentle kiss against your lips.

“Oh, God.”

That was the first thing Sarah said as Rafe rolled you into the hallway.

You were wide-eyed at the sight before you, lips parting in both shock and apprehension. You weren’t surprised to see Ward waiting, even if the sight of him did make your stomach twist. Rafe—and his home—were involved, after all, so you expected the oldest Cameron to show up at the hospital too. You hadn’t expected, however, Sarah and her friends to be waiting with him. Even the sight of Kie stumped you, but not as much as the sight of JJ.

You hadn’t seen him—talked to him—since that night.

…and your heart both sank and soared.

You were too preoccupied with the sight of his troubled eyes to pay attention to the noise going on around you. Ward and Sarah were asking Rafe all kinds of questions while John B., Pope, Kie, and Cleo were fussing over you. You absentmindedly answered their questions, telling them you were fine, but the entire time you couldn’t look away from the blond.

You didn’t miss the way his jaw clenched as he ran his gaze over you, eyes hardening as he took in your bruised face and the splint on your leg. JJ, so unlike himself, was deathly silent, and no one seemed to notice but you. When his eyes met yours again, they softened a tad, his face falling, and you forced yourself to look away when you felt Rafe’s hands come down on your wheelchair again.

“I know, dad, but her parents are downstairs pulling the car around, and then I’m heading over there,” you heard him say from above you.

When you glanced over your shoulder, you noted the stony look on Ward’s face as he and Rafe stared each other down. You didn’t need to be a genius to guess what the tension was about, and you wondered why Ward ever thought that Rafe would care about treating you better. Especially when he knew you’d never leave him, and his daddy would be there to cover his ass every time.

Just then the older man fixed his gaze on you, face not so taught now.

“How are you feeling?”

You didn’t answer him right away, and at your silence, he at least had the gall to look sheepish.

“Fine,” you eventually said, just loud enough for him to hear, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about the guilt that passed through his eyes.

You looked away from him before he could respond, and you only smiled at Sarah when she told you she’d drop by later to check on you. The tension between Rafe and the rest of her friends was palpable, and you recalled the last time he’d even been almost this close to any of them—the night you’d fallen asleep at John B.’s place. It was an awkward situation seeing as they didn’t like him, and he definitely didn’t like any of them.

Just as Rafe pushed you past them, you heard the last voice you expected.

“Did you do this?”

Your heart dropped at those words, and both you and Rafe turned around in shock. Well, you did as best as you could in a wheelchair, anyway. You struggled to look around Rafe, but even if you couldn’t manage to, JJ’s voice was as clear as day. Your eyes were wide and disbelieving as you stared at JJ, but he wasn’t looking at you, at all.

His eyes were colder than you’d ever seen them—so unlike his normal easygoing self—and the short-sleeved shirt he wore showed the tightening of his arms at his side. You were sure you’d never seen JJ this angry, not even after the night Rafe had raped you for lying about going to John B.’s. The younger blonde’s lip was curled over his teeth as he stared your boyfriend down, and you reached out to touch Rafe’s arm just as he stepped away from you.

That didn’t go unnoticed by JJ.

“Are you asking me did I do this to my girlfriend?” your boyfriend slowly wondered, an edge in his voice.

“JJ, what the hell?” Sarah wondered, looking at him like he’d lost his mind.

JJ shook her hand off as she reached for him, moving towards Rafe.

Your attempt to stand only resulted in pain shooting through your leg.

“Yeah, I am…because I’m looking at her nose, and I’m thinking to myself ‘she got that from falling down the stairs’?” he scoffed. “You’re a piece of shit!”

You gripped the back of your chair as JJ shoved Rafe, forcing everyone else to jump into action as the severity of JJ’s anger became clear. Pope wasn’t enough to stop his friend from hitting Rafe, and you felt frozen as Ward hurried to hold Rafe back as he started to do the same.

“Hey, hey,” Ward screamed, grabbing the attention of other hospital personnel. “Get yourself together!”

Rafe struggled to listen to him, his angry gaze focused on JJ as Pope and John B. pulled the other blond back.

“I know you did this,” he spat, his voice echoing in the hall. “You’re such an asshole to her, and we’re just supposed to believe this bullshit?”

You felt helpless as you looked between them, feeling at fault. JJ only suspected the truth because he knew the true nature of your relationship with Rafe. If you’d never told him, he wouldn’t be so invested and bold in his accusations, and they wouldn’t be currently yelling at each other in the hospital. You swallowed, hating how upset JJ was.

By now, hospital staff as well as a security guard had joined you, and Ward was angrily conversing with them as he pushed Rafe to take you and go. JJ was still trying to get to him even as the security guard was threatening to arrest him, and as much as you didn’t want to, you reluctantly forced yourself to turn away.

However, that wasn’t before you noted the way Sarah looked between JJ and Rafe…and then finally you.

Your gaze was focused on your lap as Rafe angrily pushed you down the hall and farther from JJ. You could still hear the commotion from the other blond, and you fiddled with your fingers. Your heart felt like it was in your throat as Rafe pushed you along, a loud rush in your ears that was replaced by Rafe’s voice the moment you were truly alone.

“Why the fuck would he say that?”

Rafe had stopped pushing you, and when you looked up at him, he was already looking down at you. The look on his face was thunderous, and you leaned back some just as he started to lean in. His arm twitched, like he was seconds away from grabbing you, but he clearly decided against it, and you suspected it had something to do with the cameras.

“Why the fuck would he say that?” he quietly repeated, slower this time, and you swallowed.

“I don’t… Rafe, I don’t know.”

Your heart was threatening to leap from your chest, and your boyfriend sneered at you.

“You and JJ aren’t even friends…and all of a sudden he’s accusing me of hurting you?” Rafe tilted his head to the side with a scoff. “You see how strange that looks to me, right?”

“Rafe, I don’t talk to JJ. I don’t know why he would say that, I mean…”

You scrambled for something to tell him.

“You know how much he hates you,” you lazily threw your hand up. “You’re surprised that he would accuse you of hurting me?”

Rafe’s nostrils flared as he stared at you, looking between your eyes. You could tell that he was seriously considering that possibility, their rivalry and animosity towards each other no secret. When he reached up to touch your chin, you flinched, slowly blinking as he brushed his thumb along your skin.

“JJ’s always trying to start something with you, isn’t he?” you quietly wondered, and Rafe eventually hummed in agreement. “It’s not like anyone will believe him, anyway.”

You tried to ignore the memory of Sarah looking between you three in that hallway as Rafe finally nodded. His expression was unreadable, but he seemed convinced enough, and you didn’t allow yourself to relax until he was meeting your parents at their car.

Rafe had pulled out of the driveway all of five minutes ago when a figure at your window was pulling it open.

Even if he hadn’t been texting you nonstop since you left the hospital, you expected it. The scene JJ had caused was on repeat in your mind, and it was hard to make sense of all the emotions you felt. On the one hand, it warmed your heart that he cared so much, but his boldness to stand up to Rafe—especially so publicly—worried you. It was like JJ hadn’t considered the ramifications of his actions and how they could possibly come back on you.

Not to mention, you still hadn’t quite sorted out how you felt about the last time you were alone with him.

With that being said though, in the wake of recent events, you found yourself pushing that to the back of your mind for the time being. You felt that was something you could figure out later because with one look at the blond as he slipped through your window frame, you couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over. JJ was now the one person you could be completely vulnerable with. You didn’t have anyone else, and the day’s events came crashing down on you.

You smiled in the face of that doctor—even your own parents—and lied about what happened to you. You’d had to welcome Rafe’s touch, accept comfort from the same hands that had done this to you. Recalling the way your mother had expressed appreciation for your boyfriend made your stomach turn, and when JJ quickly approached you, you let him take your face into his hands.

“I fucking knew it,” he murmured, pressing his face into your hair. “I knew it.”

You wanted to tell him what an idiot he was to make a scene like that, but you couldn’t manage to stop crying. You reached up to rest your hands on his forearms, sobbing against him as you pressed your forehead to his chest. Your entire frame shook, and you fought to get yourself together, knowing that Rafe wouldn’t be gone that long.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” you managed to say, pulling away and looking at him.

JJ at least looked sheepish, and if you knew him as well as you liked to think you did, then you knew he regretted it almost as soon as you’d left. His own blue eyes shined as he looked at you, and you watched him struggle to swallow.

“I know,” he quietly admitted. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

He gently grazed your cheek, looking over your face.

“I just… When I saw you? I wanted to be sick,” he told you. “I wanted to bash his face in…because I knew he did it.”

You looked down at that.

“I was really scared, JJ,” you confessed, voice almost inaudible. “He threw me, and…and I couldn’t stop falling.”

More tears fell.

“I was really scared,” you tearfully choked out.

He pulled you into his arms again, cheek resting against his shoulder, and your lashes fluttered at the way his hands fell from around you in search of your own. His fingers intertwined with yours, and your conflicting emotions about JJ reared their ugly heads again.

He was kind to you and fiercely protective, and he wasn’t afraid to stand up to Rafe, but the night in which you’d slept with him was so confusing. You’d been drunk and upset—because of Rafe—and JJ hadn’t exactly listened to any of your protests…but he was so kind to you. You could’ve tried harder to make him see you hadn’t been quite ready for that, this was true, but was that supposed to be on you? He hadn’t listened…

…but he was so kind to you.

It was the first time you’d had sex with anyone without being afraid, and surely that had to count for something. The whole thing could’ve used better communication, but you certainly didn’t feel the same by the end of the night. In fact, you’d happily pulled him closer and was eager to feel him inside of you again. By the end of that night, you’d wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

It’d started off weird…but JJ was no Rafe.

Your first time with Rafe wasn’t even comparable to your first time with the blond that was currently holding you. JJ made you feel safe, and maybe it was like he’d said before. Maybe your relationship with Rafe just made you scared to do anything for yourself, scared to let yourself be loved properly.

“Where did he go?” he wondered after some time.

“Home,” you whispered. “Ward’s mad at him.”

When you pulled away to look at JJ, there was a slight frown on his face at that.

“Ward knows Rafe did this, and…he’d promised to be better. He-.”

“…is an idiot for thinking Rafe would actually treat you right. He’s just as bad as his psycho son,” JJ scoffed.

You didn’t argue with JJ on that, and when you looked at him again, he was running his eyes along your nose and the surrounding area. You couldn’t decipher all of the emotions on his face, but you could tell that he was sad, and he closed his eyes before turning away.

“I hate him.”

Sometimes you hated him too.

Mostly, you were just scared of him.

“They gave you some medication for it, right?” he wondered, looking at your nose again before briefly glancing at your knee.

“Yeah,” you told him. “They said my nose will take three weeks and my knee will take at least six.”

“Jesus,” you heard him murmur as he glanced away, jaw tight. “I don’t get how he can do that to you.”

His hand tightened on yours when he met your gaze again. His fair hair was going every which way, some hanging onto his forehead, and his blue eyes sparkled in the light of your bedroom. JJ looked so sad and beautiful as he gazed at you.

“You’re…you’re probably the sweetest girl I’ve ever met,” he quietly admitted. “…and I don’t get how he can look at you and want to hit you and shove you and make you bleed.”

One of his hands was resting on your cheek, now, mindful of the bruising.

“I don’t understand how he can know you and be so mean to you.”

You looked down at that.

“I wish I could lock you away and protect you from the world,” JJ said, more to himself than you, and when you looked up, your gaze fell to his lips as he leaned in.

The kiss could barely be called that, and when he pulled away, guilt settled in your chest.

“I’m sorry,” you eventually said, continuing at his look of confusion. “…for…ignoring you after that night.”

Understanding settled over his features.

“I was really confused,” you shakily breathed. “About…well…everything.”

“It’s okay-.”

“I’m still confused,” you hurried to add. “I don’t know what I genuinely don’t want or what I’m just afraid to want.”

Your words came out slow, fighting to understand your own mind.

“…and part of me feels like I’m doing something horrible to Rafe even though I know that isn’t true,” you tearfully continued. “I know that nothing I do will ever compare to what he’s done to me, but I feel so horrible.”

JJ wiped your face as best as he could, shushing you, but you shook your head.

“…and I know…”

A feeling of dread weighed you down, a chill gliding down your spine as your next words settled on your tongue.

“I know that if he ever found out about us…he’d kill me,” JJ shook his head at your words, wanting you to stop talking. “It’s true, I know it’s true…”

“Don’t say that,” he said, taking your face into his hands.

“He would, JJ,” you dazedly whispered, recalling that day in his truck and the night of his birthday and the day you called the cops. “Rafe would strangle me without even thinking about it-.”

“Y/N, stop. Don’t think like that,” JJ gently shook you.

“…but you make me really happy,” you tearfully told him, looking into his eyes. “I’m happy when I’m with you and…”

You looked between his eyes.

“…and sometimes…sometimes I think it’d be worth it,” you murmured.

JJ was standing, now, making you keep your eyes on him.

“That’s not happening. Do you understand me?” he continued at your silence. “I won’t let him do that to you. He’s not taking you away from me.”

More tears spilled over because there was no way to guarantee that. Even if you and JJ stopped this, right now, there was still a chance Rafe could go too far one day and just…kill you. It was something that was always in the back of your mind, even when you tried your best to keep him happy with you.

JJ pressed his forehead to yours, brushing your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Don’t you wanna be with me? Huh?” he breathed. “Don’t you want to go on dates with me and hang out with my friends and hold my hand out in the open?”

You gave a trembling nod.

“Okay,” he shakily exhaled. “Okay, so don’t…don’t say things like that.”

JJ knelt before you, looking up at you and wiping your tears.

“You’re going to be fine,” he assured you. “I’d kill him before he ever killed you. Do you understand me?”

Again, you nodded.

Standing, he pulled you against him, burying his face into your hair and running his hand along your back.

“He’s not taking you away from me. That I can promise you…”

Your lashes fluttered as JJ massaged your scalp, and the conviction in his voice made you want to believe him.

[prismuffin]

Some context: So part of being a part of the batfam comes with hiding emotions or masking reactions and feelings. (Cause like, you don't want someone like Joker to know you're scared or anxious).

what if the bat boys (Dick, Jason, and Tim) got hit with a spell or power on a mission that gave them animal ears and a tail. (You can decide the animals, no matter what a animals ears and tail are the biggest things that you look at to tell how the animal is feeling. Because of their movement not being a forced one, but happens naturally like breathing).

So, how would the batboys (separately) react to notice that their tails and ears aggressively give away that they have romantic feelings towards Male Reader?

Ex: Dick having German shepherd ears and tail, and every time Dick sees Reader. His tail is wagging and his ears are perked.

I feel like this would be so much chaos for them, to suddenly have something attached to them that gives away what their feeling. Cause they haven't trained to mask it yet.

Alright lemme know how I did with this kay? I think that-

Jason would have come home from a mission after being hit with a spell that gave him fox attributes. While Bruce asked Zatanna about a counter-spell Jason was stuck with the short end of the stick. It really only changed his physical form so it shouldn't be too damaging. When it comes to you I think Jason would be the type to try and ignore the fact that his feelings are so on display. When he hears your voice his ears perk up suddenly and his wagging tail swishes through the air, but he's gonna keep that same stoic look on his face. His arms are crossed and his eyebrows are furrowed and it just completely contradicts the way his tail is wagging so fast. If you comment on it he'll immediately shut you down by asking what the hell you're talking about. You tease him about it and it definitely annoys him that this is the way you recognize his feelings for you. Dick did not expect to be coming home from his previous mission with dog ears and tail but hey, life just be like that sometimes. He doesn't know what he expected to come from this spell but it definitely wasn't this. It was sort of difficult when you'd walked into the room and he'd gotten visibly excited even though he was trying to play it cool with a smirk on his face, his dumb ass tail wouldn't stop wagging. When you comment on it he gets super embarrassed especially when you hit him with the "happy to see me?" Yup he's done, he's hiding from you until Bruce can find some sort of counter-spell or something because he can't stand the thought of rejection from you. You find it cute though. Tim would seem pretty unfazed but deep down he's so embarrassed about the whole thing. He gets hit with one little spell and suddenly he has a cat's tail and even the ears to match. At least he's not meowing though. The whole thing becomes even more embarrassing when you show up and suddenly his tail won't stop swishing, though it's more from the nerves than anything. He's blushing a lot and when you comment on it and just sort of brushes it off but the whole thing really clicks for you after this entire event. He was always sort of stuttery around you but with the way his tail seemed to impulsively react to your presence pretty much confirmed your suspicions.

———

Directory

[jinwoosungs]

09/08/24; 04:15pm

yandere!self.aware!sung jinwoo x fem.reader

you had no idea how this strange love began.

your mind knew that sung jinwoo was simply a fictional character; one whose birth stemmed from a mind of a writer before coming into fruition when an artist decided to illustrate his stories-

yet you couldn't deny how much your heart raced at the mere sight of him-

how your mind painted daydream upon daydream about being together with him, be it while using your own self insert or an original character made to reflect your personality and make your own stories with your beloved jinwoo.

in your mind, jinwoo would always choose you; his heart never once belonged to the infuriatingly lovely cha hae-in because you were the one who loved him from the start.

you were the one who supported him even when he was a mere level e hunter, labeled the weakest in the world along with his frumpy appearance.

you loved him when he had messy locks of ebony hair-

you loved him when all he could afford were plain, blue hoodies, ripped jeans, and damaged sneakers-

you loved him when he was at his worst-

and you had convinced yourself that only you could deserve him while he was at his best.

truly, cha hae-in could never.

but you digress and were getting a bit ahead of yourself. after re-reading his webcomic on your phone, (losing count of the sheer amount of times that you have read his story), your life took on a brighter turn one early morning.

as you were shopping for your usual groceries, you pass by the aisle that held a few shelves dedicated to some books along with some mangas and manhwas alike when a familiar title stops you dead in your tracks.

solo leveling.

not even trying to hide your immense joy at seeing the colorful and physical volume of your beloved series, you grab it while flipping through its pages, completely captivated by each panel that featured jinwoo in various scenarios. as your eyes land on a full page dedicated to him, a giggle was heard escaping from your parted lips as you gave that jinwoo panel a kiss.

feeling your cheeks heat up at how silly you were behaving, you grab the single volume of solo leveling and place it within your cart, unaware of how tiny wisps of shadows slowly began to surround the seemingly unassuming manhwa.

{ ... }

jinwoo had simply began doing his usual 10km run for the day when he felt the lingering sensation of being kissed somewhere on his cheek. the sensation felt so close and real that it made the young hunter stop dead in his tracks.

the last time jinwoo recalled ever being kissed was by his mother, and that had been years ago. now that he was an adult, such kisses came sparingly because it was embarrassing to be doted on by his mother at such an age despite knowing how much his mother would always love him.

so feeling such an affectionate touch put a bit of a smile on jinwoo's face. he touches at the spot where he felt the kiss, blaming it on a mere phantom's touch before continuing on with his day.

however, it was easier to ignore such lingering kisses had it just been a one time occurrence-

ever since that day, it seemed that the kisses felt against his skin became even more frequent. despite how he lived alone, jinwoo swore he could feel a gentle kiss against his head of hair, and even hear the sounds of muffled giggling-

and it was truly driving him insane with curiosity.

when he felt another one of those lingering kisses against his skin did he finally use the system to get to the bottom of this. summoning its translucent screen, he stares straight into it while demanding, "show me the image of the person who keeps kissing me."

[ ... ]

[ ... ... ... ... ... ... ]

[ anomaly detected; connection forged between this world and the other ]

[ view anomaly? ( y / n )? ]

"yes." jinwoo's voice was filled with confidence, ready to get to the bottom of this the moment the system began to work its magic. he saw nothing but static and white noise for a brief second-

yet that all changes when the screen clears, revealing a smiling, young woman.

it was someone he had never once seen before in his life, but seeing the girl smiling so brightly at him made jinwoo's heart lurch within the confines of his chest. his mouth turns dry, and he found his grey eyes practically try to drink in the sight of the strangely beautiful girl.

and the more he stared, the more he knew that it was completely over for him-

for you had somehow taken over his life, leaving him a mere husk of what he once was.

{ … }

as time goes on, you were able to collect even more physical volumes of solo leveling, further expanding your love for jinwoo as you eagerly drank in those colored pages that captures your beloved so well.

however, there seemed to be something… off each time you read those pages. usually, while admiring those panels, jinwoo would often face whoever was speaking to him, giving you the perfect view of his side profile.

yet now, it seemed like whenever you would admire those pages, jinwoo’s gaze would somehow be honed forward, as if he was looking directly at you instead. the speech bubbles would remain the same-

yet jinwoo would no longer be looking at the other character-

only at you (always at you.)

admittedly, it scared you just the tiniest bit, which was what made you stop reading solo leveling. you figured the reason why jinwoo appeared like he was looking at you was probably because you were severely sleep deprived. instead of reading, you decided to search through your album dedicated to jinwoo and choose a new wallpaper for your phone.

it takes you quite a bit of time to decide, but you decided on a particularly good shot of his side profile where he is smiling and deep in thought. feeling your heart racing at the mere sight of him, you finalize your phone's wallpaper before setting your phone off to the side and on top of your nightstand.

deciding to destress with a good shower, you head into the bathroom and turn on the hot water, undressing your clothes while remaining blissfully unaware of how your phone began to display the same, strange shadowy wisps that surrounded the volume of solo leveling you had purchased.

you spent roughly half an hour cleansing yourself in the shower, letting out a sigh of relief when you began drying your hair with a plush towel. now dressed in your usual sleepwear, you were ready to cuddle up in bed while playing games and maybe watch a video or two on your phone.

landing in bed with a wide grin, you take a hold of your phone, ready to open your usual applications when something startling makes you freeze up completely.

the wallpaper you had made for your phone-

the one where you had assigned jinwoo's side profile-

his side profile was no longer seen.

instead, what you saw was jinwoo looking directly at you, his purple eyes seeming to glow with mischief. unable to comprehend nor believe what was going on, you bring your phone closer to you, seeing jinwoo break into a smirk while saying your name.

it sounds muffled at first, yet the movement of his lips and the deep sound of his voice was undeniable-

letting out a sudden gasp, you toss your phone away from you, hands clutching at your comforter when thick tendrils of shadows began to surround the entirety of your room.

the sudden onslaught of darkness overwhelms you, making you lose consciousness almost immediately as a pair of powerful arms traps you in its embrace...

{ ... }

your head was pounding, making you let out a groan when you felt the bright sunlight hitting at the back of your eyelids. coupled along with the near blinding light was a reverent touch that was felt against your skin.

desperate to know what was going on, you carefully open your eyes, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings.

as you lay in bed, you saw that you were in a room that was much larger than your own while laying on a bed that had to be triple the size of your own bed. with a groan, you turn your face away from the piercing sunlight-

only to be met with the achingly handsome face of sung jinwoo himself.

your movements were quick, with your legs pushing you away from the person you assumed was a damn good sung jinwoo impersonator. but... impersonator or not, his easygoing smile and kind, grey eyes were enough to make your heart skip beats and your breathing hitched.

was this some kind of sweet dream you were living in?

and why was everything suddenly so vivid?

jinwoo scoffs before saying your name once more, using his large hands to pull your hips closer to him. "now, where do you think you're going?"

your mind was spinning when you felt jinwoo press a kiss against your temple, "y-you... who are you? a-and how did i get here?"

jinwoo was felt trembling a bit before letting out a tsk, delving his fingers into your slightly damp hair before pulling your body flush against his. "oh, i think you know exactly who i am, darling. or do you need a reminder?"

he hums, eyes never once looking away from you when he leans closer to press a series of lingering kisses against your features. the sight of the man you have always loved (and prayed to become real) actually kissing you makes you lose all train of coherency, with you only managing to wrap your arms around his neck in response.

you feel jinwoo smiling against your skin, pressing one last lingering kiss against it before murmuring to you, "you think you're so slick, believing that i could never feel any of your kisses against my skin-

but you're wrong."

the way his voice takes on a deeper, more possessive edge makes you look back up at him, meeting his gaze as they seemed to burn with fervor for you. "i always thought it was strange... how i could feel your phantom kisses against my skin, but could never once see you. i was desperate to know who you were that i used the system to reveal your identity to me."

your breathing becomes labored then, throat turning dry the more jinwoo continues to inch ever so closer to you, "and when i finally knew who you were, i was a goner. the fact that you were in an entirely different universe kept driving me up the wall, since i knew i had to do everything i could to keep you."

you found no words could come from your parted lips, simply trying to bask in jinwoo's confession as he kept gazing at you with an intensity that makes your heart soar. "my days were filled with thoughts of you alone. i needed to see you; to know what you were doing at every single moment- of every single second. so, i used my abilities as a monarch to invade the pages of my story. i made sure that each time you could see me, you would know that i would be looking back at you."

you immediately recall the times where it felt like jinwoo was looking at you through those glossy pages, "i-i always found it strange how it felt like you were looking at me."

a low hiss and a groan comes from jinwoo, and you felt his hands tighten around your shoulders as he begins to actively tremble in response to the sound of your voice once more, “you have no idea... how amazing it feels to finally hear the sound of your voice again. it's.... it's beautiful. better than music to my ears."

you shiver against him, feeling jinwoo gently nipping at your ear in a playful manner when you shakily tell him, "w-what's this? you sound like a man obsessed."

jinwoo was felt smirking against your skin, turning back to meet with your gaze. the look in his eyes was absolutely dark and full of possession at this point, and there was no way he would deny the truth, not to himself or to you, "obsessed? baby, i'm far more than obsessed with you. it's almost like i love you so much that it's become unhealthy... and i'm not ashamed to admit it."

another shiver was felt coursing through you, "y-you would do anything for me?"

his smirk simply widens in response to your question. anything for you? ha! that was an understatement. he would do anything and everything for you. it was practically like a god giving out his blessings at this point. "of course i would... i don't think there's anything i wouldn't do if you asked or needed me to do it. if it's for you, i wouldn't hesitate to do anything at all."

you were suddenly filled with a giddiness then, heart pounding within your chest as a sweet anticipation fills you. no longer were you worried about your life back in the real world, for the man you had always loved jut admitted to the lengths he would go to keep you happy and safe.

jinwoo notices the dreamy look in your eyes and chuckles, bringing your body closer to his while resting his forehead against yours. you were just so precious to him; like a rare gemstone he had to keep safe at all costs. seeing you filled with such joy for him only made him want to love and protect you even more.

"are you happy that i'd do anything for you, baby?"

your eager nods were all the confirmation jinwoo needed to lean closer to you, letting out a whisper of your name before slotting his lips against yours, hungrily swallowing your moans as he kept you pinned against his bed and trapped forever in this world with him-

a world where you will always be cherished and loved by him and him alone.

end notes: self aware jinwoo, you have my heart (⺣◡⺣)♡ currently unedited, but i'll make any changes once this is posted.

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[krypticcafe]

Can please get fic where young reader almost gets r-word.. like! What happened to ellie on 'the last of us' like make it into that situation, reader kills the rapist and flees away and runs into the 141 team, and their like in this state of like panic, but they calm them down and they explain what happened they are beyond livid so they just reck hell on the people who was with the man who tried to r-word reader.

(this a platonic relationship between reader and the team)

Me and the Devil

rating: mature

pairing(s): platonic 141 x gn!reader

warning(s): no use of y/n, dead dove do not eat, non-explicit attempted r*pe, emotional and physical trauma, sexual physical and mental violence, canon-typical graphic violence, comfort

wordcount: ~3.8k

a/n: i'm not exactly sure what anon meant by young, but for context, reader is probably 20-22, I'm just not comfortable writing this kinda stuff for teen or child reader, I hope you don't mind. also, huge, HUGE emphasis on the warnings. though nothing is explicit and there are no sexual graphic terms, the descriptions and actions alone are still very disturbing and uncomfortable! and the violence is a little uncomfy for those not used to it, too. title is from 'Me and the Devil' - Soap&Skin

synopsis: You can see it. The devil. It laughs, and laughs, and laughs, mocks you for your childish stupidity and naivete. To think the angels would come marching in, that you'd make it out with any semblance of sanity. You can't fight it, you can't even hide from it. All you can do is lie in your grave.

Just hours ago, you were alongside the 141, cleaning up and wiping out an enemy base, a typical Tuesday on a summer afternoon. You should've known things would go downhill with how smoothly it was all going. Even Price commented on it with an air of wariness and suspicion. After all, it was a saying that if the fight starts getting too easy, then it's an ambush. And an ambush it was. You want to tell yourself that it was nothing, easy as pie compared to what you've been through. You wanted to say that it was a success and you turned the tables on your enemies. You wanted to say that it ended within a matter of minutes and that you were on your way back to base with your boys, ready for a night of banter at the pub. You'd join Ghost in watching Soap and Gaz try their hand at poker, taking a shot each time Soap's dogshit luck lost him another couple of euros while Price would pry Roach from having another cocktail and piss himself ('it was one time!' he slurs).

But instead, you're here. Locked in a room, bag over your head, tied to a chair, a stereotypical hostage situation but that didn't make it any less tolerable. Though having a potato sack over your head was nowhere near as embarrassing as the reason why you were captured. You tried your best to hold onto the jeep, honestly, you did. Until some ankle-biter decided to latch onto you and sink his teeth into your flesh, causing your grip to loosen and send you tumbling into the dirt. Your bodies slammed into the ground, kicking up dust and your opponent taking most of the fall damage for you. How thoughtful.

Seething at the audacity he had to chomp on your leg like some feral mutt, you gave him a piece of your mind and made sure he'd never bite another ankle again. His friends caught up the moment you were done. They dragged you back down to the coarse dirt and sand of the earth, making you taste and choke on dust. You looked at the lifeless figure in the sand, briefly wondering if you'd be wishing you were him before a bag was slipped over your head and tied like a collar. It didn't help that the sand on the roof of your mouth combined with your ineffective attempts to ration your breathing made for a burn worse than any hard liquor down your throat. Thrashing and shouting like a madman, you cursed them like some teenager who discovered swearing as they tossed you into the back of a truck, rolling you forth with the heels of their boots. Not your finest moment.

Once you were loaded and the rest of them climbed on, the truck shot forward without slowing down for a second, taking you to your own personal hell for the next few days. Knowing the 141, they were probably at the safehouse, planning their next move to retrieve you. In the time between interrogations and routine attempts to break you, you could imagine Soap and Roach pacing around the room, Ghost brandishing a knife with a dark look in his eyes, and Price looming over a map and pulling up contacts with Gaz at his side. While you hated to burden them with your own mistakes, thinking about them all gnawing their teeth in comical anger at your expense brought you momentary comfort, eliciting a small chuckle.

"Something funny?" Much to your ire, all your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of several people shuffling into the room. You could only expect so much privacy in a place like this. The man who spoke up seemed to carry himself like a leader, considering how he spoke above all others and you could hear him carrying out demands every now and then, checking up on you as if he actually gave a shit. And currently, he was on the top of your "to kill" list, along with every other cunt in this prison.

"What'll it be today, more screaming or more silence? You know, you can only stay quiet for so long." He sighed. Judging by the sound of metal screeching on concrete, he pulled up a front-row seat. With a single yank, you were again temporarily freed of the confines of the bag on your face, glaring at the man with a look of ferocity that seemed as if it were etched on your face permanently. His clothes were disturbingly clean-cut and polished despite the blood he spilled for the past few days. Your blood he spilled. "Come now... you know you'll only make things more difficult. Face it, kid, they're not coming, it's been days."

When you felt gloved fingers touch your jaw you snapped, pulling away like an animal restrained by a leash. Your captor let out a taunting "Oooh", and your skin crawled at how he heckled and laughed like some adolescent boy poking a rabid animal with a stick through its cage. "So it bites."

"Fuck you." You rasped.

"And it talks." The humiliation of their nonchalant attitudes made you seethe, you knew it was a tactic to get under your skin and you just wouldn't have it, turning your head away from the men.

"Uh-uh, eyes on me. How is such a fresh thing like you out fighting wars with men like them?" He hummed, gripping your jaw with a strength that took you by surprise and had you wincing. Even though his hands were gloved, it felt as if he were trying to dig into your skin. With no other choice, you were forced to look into his eyes, the pyres of unimaginable anger burning in yours.

However, it was then that you felt it. Something was off. Something was horribly off about him. The several times he'd come in here to either coax you with gentle words or have his men beat you within an inch of your life, he either had some faux kindness or gleeful malice painted across his face. But this time, his eyes were alight with slimy delight. You hated it, Hated how it made you feel small, cornered, pulling on your leash so that you couldn't be yanked from the one place that made you feel safe. You hated how it didn't feel like he was trying to get under your skin, or sink into your bones but instead your mind as if to violate it. You hated how it seemed like he had something more in mind, something that you couldn't predict like a kick to the ribs or a carefully worded reassurance that you'd be in "good hands". It was the one thing you felt like you had control over, knowing what was next, and now you didn't.

With a wave of his hand, his men all filed out of the room, leaving just him and you alone. One came back with a bowl in their hands and you felt yourself doubt your worries. Were you already beginning to lose it in here? "Hungry?" He smiled, taking the bowl and dismissing the soldier. It looked and smelled like a stew, potatoes, and beef, not scraps of stale bread or lukewarm, half-empty beer cans.

"I asked them to make something special today for you, isn't that nice? I suppose even someone like you has a taste for the finer things in life and wouldn't say yes to leftovers." No answer came but it was to be expected as he mixed the stew with a spoon. Your eyes were trained on his face instead, expecting some kind of strings attached. He entertained that expectation by—to your disgust—spitting into the stew, mixing it more, and bringing up a spoonful to your face. "Consider that the cost of being so picky. Open wide, soldier. Surely you won't make a fuss again, now will you?"

There was a pause, you leaned forward, lips ghosting the tip of the spoon before you roughly shoved his chair away from you with your boot. The bowl fell from his hands onto the ground, pooling between the two of you. He could go to hell with his stupid fucking soup.

He let out a scowl of disapproval, his self-satisfied smirk replaced with disgust and irritation like a parent to their troublemaking child. Fine with you, you didn't need that asshole's approval. He stood, grabbing a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiping his hands and the small splatters on his uniform. "Should've known better that the government's pets would act like such animals. I gave you a chance, I tried to make this easy for you." He snarled, tossing his handkerchief aside and grabbing you by the collar, "But no, you just had to be a fucking brat, huh? Fine, be one. I can work with that. Either way, you'll be put in your place soon enough."

Before you could comprehend what he was implying, he slashed the ropes that binded you to your chair with a combat knife and shoved you to the floor, your head throbbing as it hit concrete, along with the rest of your aching muscles. Vision blurred, you sat up and tried to make out what he was doing, falling back when he roughly grabbed your hair and shoved your head back down into the ground. Like an alarm, every single flight or fight response went off in your body and yet you couldn't figure out what he was trying, you just knew that this was something worse and that you were a fool to let your guard down for a single second.

A twisted smile broke across his lips, "You know, you have a very lovely voice. You sing the loveliest songs."

Your brows furrowed, confusion flashing across your face until you let out a yelp of pain when he pressed into your stomach, already bruised from previous matters. He let out a sigh that made you shudder and you felt bile creep up your throat, moving your face to the side in fear that you'd choke on it.

"Eyes. On. Me." He snapped, his voice sounding so much louder than it actually was, his hand twisting your jaw back to look up at him while his fingers proceeded to dig themselves into whatever spots got you hissing and squirming away. That's all it took for your resolve to break, the blaze in your eyes fizzling out and replace with genuine fear and utter shock as you watched him straddle you and stare with a piercing gaze that trapped you. It forced your attention to stay on him, daring you to look anywhere else but him when that was all you could focus on. Him.

You couldn't even scream, paralyzed when you heard the sound of metal clinking against metal and the brushing of fabric, raw horror setting itself alight in your bones at how he loomed over you. At that moment, you swore you could see the devil itself laughing, cackling, mocking you in his eyes.

It was like you were seven again.

Scared, cornered in your room because you swore, you swore and sobbed and cried that you saw it, a monster in your closet. A dark, shadowy figure that'd taunt you merely with its existence and prayed on your downfall, drinking the fat tears you spilled and listening to your high-pitched cries as if they were music, eyes that you couldn't see but they could see you.

Others tried to convince you that it wasn't real, opened the doors, and closed them again, showing that there was nothing but cleanly folded clothes and hung-up jackets lined neatly along a rack. Every time, you'd feel a little more silly about your fears but anxious that they'd come back for more.

At some point, you nearly forgot about the monster altogether. It ceased to exist in your closet, but never your mind.

"Damn it, what now?!"

Pulled back into the present, you heard muffled speech with loud, obtrusive noises and more screaming and cursing from the man above you. He was faced with the still-closed door, talking to a soldier behind it. Instead of trying to catch up with what happened, your mind raced to its defensive instincts. Finding the spoon dropped from earlier, you reached for it with a strained grunt which caught his attention. Yet with a swift grab and thrust of your hand, you jammed the blunt handle of the spoon into his throat and screamed at him, your vocal cords ripping in deliriously satisfying pain.

Barely giving him a second to let out a final gasp for air, you flipped him over underneath you and yanked the spoon out, blood erupting out of the gash. Fire ignited in your veins and you balled your fists, giving him a taste of the rage of a caged beast with nothing left to lose, just the desperation to survive for more. It was a symphony of grotesque crunches of bone and ligament, and you yelled, screamed, and cursed with each impact at him, at the entire organization, at a godless world for making you live through hell. A pitiful yet gruesomely satisfying attempt to reclaim what sanity and control you lost in that room.

Blood and flesh coated your fingers like warm syrup, and you were sure your knuckles were split. Crimson red was a good look on a sterile uniform, you thought to yourself. The sight of your work made you realize it wasn't the devil in his eyes was laughing at you, but rather its reflection from over your shoulder, still gleefully singing and squealing with delight as it watched you indulge in pure, unadulterated wrath. Its tail wrapped around your neck, strangling you with delirium and bloodthirst, guiding you in your ear as you beat an already dead man to a pulp.

Taking a stand, its whispers remained in your ear, praising you and yet you felt sick looking at what was left of what you had done, of what was left of the man's face. His blood pooled around his shoulders, mixing with the stew into an unholy concoction, evidence that was a testimony to your suffering and to your sin. Using his combat knife, you cut through the ropes around your wrists, skin scratched raw and bleeding. Without a second glance, you took his gun and left the room.

To this day, you tell yourself that you crawled out of hell that day.

"Any signs of the hostage?" Gaz shouted over comms, holding off a room of enemies alongside Price.

The moment they had all seen your fingers slip from the jeep and saw you tumble away that afternoon was the moment they knew they wouldn't be coming back to base for a long time. Roach had watched in despair as he was so damn close to grabbing your hand, swearing that had he'd been a little quicker, you wouldn't be here. Soap had yelled for Price to go back but Gaz and Ghost both knew his hand wasn't going to turn that wheel anytime soon. All of them knew. They couldn't turn back, and you wouldn't have wanted them to either, not unless the entire team and mission were to be jeopardized. However, that didn't stop them from doing whatever it takes to get you back safe again.

"Negative." Ghost answered over the line, standing with Soap in a hallway painted with the blood of the opposition, bodies scattered like lifeless bags of flesh with no greater purpose than to rot.

"I have eyes on them, they escaped from captivity. Currently pursuing them!" Roach responded. He'd seen your figure run down a hall at an alarming speed, and when he followed you, he had a glimpse of the room and the spectacle you left behind, "The leader is terminated, too. Jesus, can someone get over here?! They're gunning it for the west exit and I can barely keep up!"

You were in fact, bolting for the exits, panicking the more you got lost and running so fast that you probably could've broken a record on base. Distant gunfire and blasts snapped at your heels like a pack of dogs, reminding you that if you didn't keep running, you'd be dead, you'd be torn apart and beaten just like their leader and fed to the wolves. Boots trampled the ground behind you like drums of death, the yelling of men ringing in your ears, a requiem to the inevitable. Run, just run, it's all you could do in this frenzied state. If you didn't you'd be helpless, you'd be put down like a rabid fucking animal. Run, even if your bones shook from the pain, even if flames licked at your torn muscles, even if it meant dying of exhaustion because anything was better than dying at the hands of those animals.

At last, you found the light of an exit, finally an escape from this asylum. Your heart felt lighter when sunlight kissed your skin only to be weighed down by getting slammed into, grabbed into a relentless hold. You screeched, shrieked, snapped, and sneered while the voices seemed relieved, almost happy at your capture.

"Don't fucking touch me-!" You screamed with animosity, practically frothing at the mouth, "Don't fucking touch me I'll fucking kill you! I'll fucking—"

"Friendly, friendly!"

Still growling under your breath, confusion flickered over your eyes. Why did it sound like... like...

"Captain?"

"You're safe kid," Price panted, as if he'd been running to chase you. He was chasing you. In all your hysteria, you hadn't realized that the group had been running after you for past minute or so, trying to call for you, get you to slow down. The only thing that worked was to just grab to and hopefully knock some sense into you or knock you out. "It's just us, see?"

Your gaze softened, taking in the features of the man before you. Despite the crossfire and fighting, somehow he still had such a kind look on him, puppy eyes that pitied you and kept you grounded. Turning your head, you saw the rest of the men watching you in concern, all tired but overjoyed nonetheless that you were finally back.

You were safe.

It was like a weight finally lifted off your chest, a pile of restrained misery and relief washing over you, and you wept without a thought to pride. Price whispered your name in a way that felt so comfortingly familiar, tucking your head into his shoulder and letting you muffle your sobs into his uniform. It was painful to hear your wails, the relief and the instability shaking off of you in waves. A part of you expected to be scolded, to be teased for messing up so badly with a simple mistake as letting go of the jeep but they didn't.

"You're in good hands,"

"We've got them covered,"

"They can't hurt you anymore, love."

"Do you have any major injuries?" Gaz asked, but you couldn't say a thing, clinging onto Price's jacket and crying like you were four years old and found by your parents after getting lost. Slowly and gently, Price pulled you from him to examine you, and that's when he saw it. It didn't take long for the others to notice as well. Your clothes were torn and belt undone. While no physical harm was visible, knowing what happened was enough to make Price tick.

"Roach, get them to the car and give them some spares ASAP. Everyone else with me, we're cleaning out the place." Everyone else had the same dark look in their eyes, one that sent shivers down your spine but encouraged you once more you were secure now. While Roach escorted you away, you peeked back to see them disappear back into the building. After you changed in the car, you could hear the distant gunfire and screams, shutting your eyes closed tight, making an effort to drown out the thoughts.

"You okay?" Roach frowned. he had apologized to you a dozen times over on your way to the car and explained all that happened after you were taken, which you appreciated him for and insisted it wasn't his fault. But he was sweet and stubborn, bandaging your wounds and telling you he'd make it up by giving you his dessert for the next month, a gesture that made you smile for once in a while.

"Yeah, yeah just... hope they're safe." You breathed, sinking into your seat with the rest of your thoughts. Though you cried once more, quietly this time and on Roach's shoulder. He was cautious not to initiate too much physical contact, holding your hand only when you asked for it.

The building was silent, not a single soul left to be reaped by the 141. They all regrouped around a body that was beaten beyond belief, to the point where the face was unrecognizable. Regardless, they knew who it was.

Gaz broke the silence, "You think they did this?" They all looked at each other, not wanting to imagine what happened to lead to this point.

Ghost nodded, a confirmation of something they already knew but wanted to mutually agree on. "No one else could've made this much of a bloody mess. HQ's going to have a field day with this. Can't say that he didn't have it coming for him, though."

"And well deserved, too." Soap spat. Price continued to look down on the figure on the floor without any thought to it. Not anger, disappointment, or spite, just disregard. Headquarters would be interested to hear what happened, but he could care less about the report. All that mattered was that loose ends were tied.

Minutes later, the men all piled up in the car again, setting for the road back. You woke from your half-asleep state, rubbing your eyes. You were met with a soft smile from Soap, who ruffled your hair. "You alright there, sleepin' beauty?"

Humming in acknowledgment, you nodded and glanced out the window to see the road whizzing by, the building growing smaller and smaller in the distance. Some dingy warehouse. So that was the hellhole you were stuck in for a near week.

"Dinnae think 'bout it too much," He followed your gaze and nudged your boot with his, "When we said they can't hurt ye anymore, we meant it."

"Yeah," You quietly mumbled, leaning back on Roach, who had fallen asleep and leaned on Gaz for support. "Can smell it on you guys."

That got a rumbling laugh out of Soap and even a little headshake from Ghost who sat in the passenger seat. Looking at the rearview mirror, Price was looking right back at you, eyes flickering to the road occasionally, "Get some rest. It'll be a long ride home."

You nodded like a little kid with a mumbled "yessir" and drifted off once more. For the first time in forever, you feel like you can breathe and ground yourself, no punishment, no torture, nothing to haunt in this rare bit of calm. You didn't feel the pain of your sore muscles, you didn't feel that your body was filthy, you didn't feel small and scared, not anymore. Just surrounded by nothing but a familiar feeling of safety and lulled to sleep by the sound of the engine that took you home.

a/n pt.2: had a tough time writing this one but hey, I think I managed! to be honest, though, I'm not super confident about the ending and proofread this while half-asleep, but I'd love to hear some thoughts about it. shoutout to the people who noticed any reoccurring themes.

[powermakar]

This is me Trying - LS2

A/N: I feel so bad for Logan after what has happened. Please don't send any type of hate to Alex.

Summary: James tells Logan that he won't be racing on Sunday and everything goes down hill.

Logan Sergeant x female!reader

Warnings: panic attacks and some swearing

I just wanted you to know that this is me trying, at least I'm trying. 

“-so you won’t be able to drive this weekend” 

“What?” 

“Alex is going to be driving your car this weekend since his car is severely damaged.”

“Oh, okay,” Logan felt numb. He couldn’t feel his hands shaking, but he could see them physically shaking. 

“I know it’s a lot but the team really needs this Logan. Thank you for doing this,” James said before walking off. 

Logan began to feel himself lose touch with reality. It was a feeling he was beginning to feel comfortable with. I mean at this point it was happening every race weekend now, so he just HAD to get comfortable with it. At first, he didn’t know what it was, maybe he was just getting sick; but after a few times and some Google searches, he figured out what it was. 

Panic attacks. 

No one knew that he experienced them. Not James, not his trainer, not Oscar; hell, his own girlfriend did not know that he got them. He had to get out of there fast so no one found out. God, he couldn't even imagine what the media would do if it became public knowledge. 

Tears and ragged breaths while hidden in the corners of his driver’s room became his go-to when he didn’t know what else to do. This time it felt different though. The sobs were louder and his vision was blurrier, he felt weak. He felt stupid. How could someone fuck up so badly and he still would get punished. He knew life wasn’t fair and he knew that Formula 1 wasn’t fair either. 

But fuck, it wasn’t fair. At all. 

The knock on the door did not register the first time, nor the second or third. He only realized someone entered the room when he felt someone’s hand on his shoulder. 

You, the love of his life, was seeing him at the lowest he had ever been. Gasps in between sobs were loud and short, and Logan felt embarrassed. He felt shameful and afraid. He couldn’t breathe and he was scared for his future. 

“It’s not fair, it's not fair, it’s just not fucking fair. I'm trying. I’m trying so fucking hard. Can’t you see that? Can’t anyone see that,” he babbled out. 

“Logan I- I know that this is hard, you worked so hard. You deserve to be driving, you shouldn’t be placed on the back burner because someone made a mistake. You’ve worked so hard for so long and it kills me to see you like this. Have you thought about how Alex may-,” Logan cut you off before you could say anything else. 

“No, no. Do not even start with Alex. I know he’s better, I know I am a liability, but I know I can try to be better,” he got up suddenly. He felt lightheaded, he felt dizzy. Stumbling around his room trying to get away from you. “I finally out-performed him and it just gets ripped out from underneath me. Literally,” Logan laughs bitterly. He didn’t care what he looked like now, he probably looked like a madman, but who the hell cares anymore?

“Logan- please just listen to me. Alex probably feels like shit. Yes he crashed his car but it's not his fault the team gave him your car. It's the team,” she pauses “It’s- it’s James’ fault.” 

“I don’t care whose fault it is. I just care about the fact that this is probably going to be one of the last times I'm going to be in F1. My time is going to get cut short, no one has any faith in me anymore. I don’t blame them though, I’m failing and I'm terrified,” Logan says. He could finally breathe normally but he could still feel his heart pounding in his ears. 

He didn’t understand any of it. How could he be failing so badly at something he used to be so good at? He glanced back at you, ready to face the disappointment he knew you secretly hid. 

“Just tell me you can’t stand me anymore. Tell me that I embarrass you. Tell me that you hate me. Tell me that you are disappointed in me. Please just tell me, please.”

“Logan-,” you were in shock. You never knew that he felt like this, about himself. He hid it so well, almost to the point where it was impressive. “You know I could never say any of those things to you. I love you so, so much and I'm so proud of you,”

Both of you heard a knock on the door and one of William’s PR managers called out, “Media in 10, Logan!”

How they expected him to go out into the media pen and act like everything was fine was beyond you. Reaching up to cup his face in your hands, you quickly wipe away a stray tear that fell at your confession. Logan gently squeezed your wrist and smiled sadly. A silent, but meaningful conversation.

[corroded-hellfire]

what about like an angst with reader, eddie, and Chrissy and maybe ends happy. like a romance type thing but lots of angst

Somehow this got lost in my drafts, so I deeply apologize it took me so long to get it out! I tried to angst it up for you.

Warnings: mentally and emotionally abusive parents, Eddie’s a jerk but he comes to

Words: 3.8k

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

Nancy’s voice betrays her worry over the phone, and you have to assure her for the fifth time that you’re all right. 

“Why do you keep asking me that?”

Annoyed isn’t a word you would’ve used to describe your mood before, but it’s certainly fitting now that Nancy keeps interrogating you. 

“You just sound different,” Nancy answers. “You sound off.”

“I’m fine,” you lie. 

“Why don’t you go and see Eddie?” Nancy suggests. It’s not a secret that your best friend can make you happier even when the world is turning to shit. His presence hasn’t been quite as helpful lately since it’s a constant reminder that he has a date with Chrissy Cunningham coming up—and not one with you. 

“Yeah, maybe I will,” you tell Nancy. 

“Good. Call me if you need me.”

“I will, Nance. Bye.”

After hanging up the phone, you stroll into the bathroom and survey the damage on your face. Digging through your makeup bag to find your trusty makeup remover, you make a mental note to stop off at Melvalds on the way home to pick up some more. The skin beneath your puffy eyes is tender as you use a cotton swab to clear away the smeared mascara. Hisses of pain leak through your teeth as you gently dab at your waterline, trying to make all traces of your sob fest vanish. 

Makeup worked for the most part when hiding your irritated eyes and the raw skin around them from crying so much. But when you cried while already wearing some, it made the evidence plain as day with the black streaks running down your cheeks. The only person who knows that your mom and her boyfriend treat you like garbage is Eddie—which means you have to take extra precautions when trying to hide the signs from him too. Eddie threatened many times to kick the shit out of your mom’s boyfriend. There have been a few times when he was high that you had to physically restrain him from heading out to find the prick. He hated how your mother treated you as well, but Eddie could never threaten a woman—even one as horrible as her. 

Once you’re satisfied with the cover the makeup has given you, you grab your keys and head out to your car. This had been one of the worst beratings you’d ever gotten and there was still a ringing in your ears from the vitriol they spewed. 

You think you’re better than us? Just because you graduated high school? Think you’re some big hot shot? You’re nothing. No one gives a shit about you. I gave birth to you and am obligated to love you—but you even make that difficult!

You imagine Eddie’s reaction if he found out. He’d again be trying to talk you into getting into your car or his van and just driving off together. Somewhere, anywhere. Most of the time the two of you said you’d drive to the beach, seeing as neither of you had ever seen the ocean before. The fantasy of Eddie kicking the ass of the douche your mom is dating and then whisking you away to the beach keeps you company on the ride over. 

Wayne’s truck isn’t parked beside Eddie’s van when you arrive, which means the older man has left for work already. The usual blaring of Eddie’s stereo that you can hear from outside doesn’t meet your ears as you step out of your car. You hoist yourself up the few stairs to the front door and rap your knuckles on it. There’s no answer. Leaning in, you definitely hear shuffling going on in there, though. You knock again.

“What?” comes a muffled bark from the other side of the door. Frowning, you push the front door open and step inside of what has become your second home. 

“Um, Eds?” His back is to you as you shut the front door behind you. By his hunched position over a lower shelf and the shuffling and scraping sounds reaching your ears, you can tell he’s looking for something. Frantically, if the frazzled eyes he gives you in the briefest of glances over his shoulder are any indication. 

“Oh, hey,” he says, turning immediately back to the task at hand. 

“Can I, uh, talk to you?” One of your hands twirls a keyring around your finger, while the other comes up to gingerly touch your swollen lower eyelid. 

“Now?” The groan accompanying his words takes you aback. There’s never been a single time that he’s made you feel like a burden or inconvenience. But the way he’s acting now is sure giving you that impression. 

“Are you busy?” you ask in a soft voice. 

“Trying to find that ring with the skeleton hands holding the stone.”

“Why?”

“Because Chrissy likes that one.” He says it so absentmindedly, like he’s giving 99% of his efforts into finding the piece of jewelry, and 1% of them talking to you. 

“What’s it matter what ring you wear right now?” Frowning, you cross your arms over your chest.

Eddie groans again and opens another drawer. “To wear on our date tonight.”

The air rushes out of your lungs faster than when your mom landed a verbal gut punch at home. You thought you had a whole week to mentally prepare for Eddie going out on a date with the queen of Hawkins High. 

“T-Tonight?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “Something came up for her next weekend, so we rescheduled it for today.”

“Oh.” It’s all you can say without bursting into tears or punching a hole in the wall. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says again, turning around to finally face you. “So, you know, if you could just…” Eddie gestures towards the front door, obviously hinting at you leaving. 

“O-Oh. Yeah. I-I just need to talk to you about something,” you say weakly. “It will only take a minute. I-I promise.”

Eddie groans and rubs a hand over his face. “I don’t have a minute. I need to find this ring. You and I can talk whenever. The date is tonight, though—it’s important.”

And I’m not, your mind adds. The pain in your eyes seems to throb even more, as if Eddie’s words are irritating them further. 

“Right,” you say. “Okay, I’ll go.” 

“Thanks,” Eddie mumbles as he continues his search. It burns like a branding iron down your esophagus. You can’t count all the times that Eddie said to come to him whenever you felt low or like you wanted to run away or when you couldn’t take being at home any longer. It made you feel special. Now, he doesn’t even have the time of day to listen to what you have to say. Even if you shouted, “Hey, this is about the people who I live with that abuse me!” it probably still wouldn’t get his full attention. You’re not going to use that as an excuse, either. Not going to use it to get your best friend to talk to you when he clearly doesn’t want to and has better things to do. 

An idea pops into your head and it’s planted itself before you really even have time to consider it. Slowly, you walk back to the front door. But before you open it, you turn back to face him. 

“Can I just ask one f-favor first?” you say, doing your damndest to keep your voice from shaking. “And then I’ll leave, I promise.” 

Pausing his perusing, Eddie heaves out a sigh and turns to face you, hands on his hips. “What?”

“Can I have a hug?”

Eddie takes the few steps towards you and pulls you in for a quick squeeze. It’s not exactly what you wanted, but you still let your head rest against his shoulder, scrunching your eyes closed as you try and savor this moment with Eddie. Usually, his hugs are like a balm for your soul. But this one is rushed and half-assed. It’s clear he wants you to be gone. So after one last squeeze of him in your arms, you grab the front door knob and open it to the warm late spring day outside. Over your shoulder, you look at Eddie. He’s back to shuffling things around, pink tongue poking out of his pretty lips as he focuses on his task.

“Goodbye, Eddie.”

There’s no response. You didn’t really expect one, anyway. The two of you have been best friends for years. But you know the place that Chrissy holds in his heart and there’s no room for anyone else in that spotlight. It’s not the kind cheerleader’s fault, though. All she did was agree to a date with the best man you know. How could you blame her? 

Taking a deep breath, you step out of the trailer and close the door behind you. 

The first thing you do when you get back into your car is turn up the radio as loud as your eardrums can stand. Hopefully it’ll be enough to occupy your mind so it doesn’t wander and you don’t spiral even further. Melvalds is on the way home from Eddie’s, otherwise you probably would have skipped it. But, you think, you can also grab a candy bar or two to drown your sorrows in if you stop by the store. 

Luckily, no one you know is working at the store this evening. It makes it easier for you to grab the things you need and get out without having to have a conversation with anyone. On your way back to the car, the dumpster on the side of the building catches your eye, as it’s overflowing with garbage. They must have gotten a delivery earlier in the day because empty boxes also pile high out of the large green bin, many littering the floor around it as well. Without giving it much thought, you pop the trunk of your car before grabbing as many boxes as will fit in the cramped space before shoving them inside. You slam the trunk, giving it enough oomph to make it close despite the amount of cardboard you managed to cram in.

No one is home when you get there, which isn’t a surprise. Eddie would be occupied the whole night, so you know you’ll have no interruptions. Because who else would call or show up to see you? No one, of course. So, you lug the empty boxes into your room and take a look around the small space. Most of your belongings should fit in the boxes and the small suitcase, duffle bag, and backpack you have in your closet. 

Heaving a sigh, you get to work and start to pack up your room. What’s keeping you in Hawkins anymore? High school is over and your only college plans so far were community college—and they have those just about everywhere. Family was a mark against staying in Hawkins, and your friends were either going away to college or dating pretty cheerleaders that’ll have them forgetting all about you eventually. Why not have your own new start? 

There’s not a whole lot in your room to begin with, so most everything you own ends up in a box or a bag. It’s nearing three in the morning by the time you shove the bags containing your clothes behind the driver and passenger’s seats in your car. Figuring you’d end up sleeping in your car for the foreseeable future, you pack all your bedding into the backseat, creating a nest that you could curl up into when you were tired of driving. 

The boxes are heavy, but you manage to haul them to the driveway all by yourself. After stashing most of them into the trunk, you realize they’re probably not all going to fit. Gritting your teeth, you decide to give it the old college try and force them all in. Headlights turn down your street and you have to shield your face as the beams blind you. None of your neighbors are particularly friendly, so you know none of them will stop to see what’s going on. To your chagrin though, the vehicle starts to slow as it approaches your home. The closer it gets, you begin to hear the familiar squeak that churns out as the tires roll up. Eddie. Ice floods your veins as your mind scrambles to find something to tell him. What possible explanation could you have for loading up your car with all of your belongings in the middle of the night? But how do you tell him that you planned on skipping town without giving him a heads up first? 

You run out of time as the van comes to a halt and the thump of Eddie’s boots hits the pavement.

“Uh, whatcha doing?” Eddie drawls. The lights on the front of the van finally fade out and you can see him approaching you. There’s a confused yet amused furrow on his brow as he slips his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. He’s wearing the same t-shirt as he was when you saw him before, but now his leather jacket is thrown over it. 

“Nothing,” you say lamely as you throw your weight behind your attempts to close the trunk. 

“Really?” Eddie raises his eyebrows as he leans against the side of your car. “Nothing? Because you always load your car up with boxes in the middle of the night. How could I forget?”

Deciding to just ignore him, even though you know that won’t work, you put your focus back on the task at hand. Eddie gives you a few moments, watching in amusement as you try to leap on top of the trunk. 

“What, are you getting rid of a body? Come on, who’d ya kill? You know I’ll help you out.” There’s a playful smirk on his face as he pushes off of the car and his eyes catch on the bedding you have in the backseat. “Wait.” He points at your comforter and pillows bunched up on the old worn seats. “Are you…going somewhere?”

“Maybe.” It’s petty and immature of you, but you’re still hurt by how easily he dismissed you before. 

Eddie’s jaw drops and he lets out a scoff. “And what? You just weren’t going to tell me?”

“Honestly,” you huff out, momentarily giving up on closing the trunk, “I didn’t think you’d care very much.”

“Excuse me?” Eddie’s eyes practically pop out of his skull. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, forget it,” you mumble. “What are you even doing here?”

“I came to tell my best friend about my date,” he says, irritation clear in his tone. “But it seems like she’s mad at me for some reason.”

All you can do is stare at him. He seriously doesn’t know? He can’t figure out why you’re so upset with him? Anger boils your blood, thawing out the ice that previously resided there. 

“Well, I’m busy, Eddie. So, you know, if you could just…” Your eyes flicker over to his van, not so subtly quoting him from earlier in the day. 

It takes a few moments, but it finally dawns on him. He drops his arms to his side and has the good sense to look embarrassed.

“Oh, shit.” Eddie groans and rubs his hands over his face. “I’m an asshole, aren’t I?”

Some of your anger turns to irritation as you see his body deflate. You cross your arms over your chest, refusing to give up all your vexation towards him. 

“You are.”

“I’m sorry.” He steps towards you, letting out a sigh. “You wanted to talk to me about something and I just brushed you off. I’m a pretty shitty best friend.”

Not quite trusting your voice, you nod your head. Eddie comes even closer and tilts your chin up so you’re looking at him. His lower lip is jutted out and he’s made his eyes somehow even wider. 

“Can you forgive me?” he asks.

You have to bite your lip from letting a small smile peek through. Even when he’s been an asshole and an idiot, he can still find a way to cheer you up. 

“Maybe,” you say with a shrug.

Eddie heaves an over dramatic sigh that you know is meant to keep the atmosphere around you light. 

“What about we talk about whatever it was you came by for, hmm?”

The suggestion suddenly sours your mood again. You’d managed to get the venom hurled at you pushed to the back of your mind, too focused on Eddie hurting your feelings. Now the vile words come back to you and your best friend immediately picks up on the shift in your demeanor. 

“Fuck,” he grumbles under his breath. He knows the reason your body would tense up like that. It only serves to make him feel even worse about shooing you away before. Eddie lifts his eyes and scans the driveway before looking back at your house. “Are they here?”

“No,” you say softly.

“Good, I’d fucking lose it on them.” He takes a deep breath before ducking his head to meet your eyes. “How bad was it?”

The question is what gets the tears prickling in your eyes. You try to hide it, but your trembling bottom lip gives you away. Eddie doesn’t hesitate to tug you closer to him and pull you into a hug. 

“Whatever they said, it isn’t true,” Eddie mumbles against your hair. 

“D-Did you know it’s almost impossible to love me?” you say with a hoarse voice. You clear your throat before you speak again. “And that I’m a pathetic waste of space that nobody wants around?”

“I do.”

You can’t help but look up at Eddie when he says that, skepticism written all over your face. At first, the look puzzles Eddie. Then he remembers what he did when you originally came to see him and talk about the shitty things your mom and her boyfriend said to you. Eddie had just brushed you off, made you feel unimportant and that he cared about Chrissy more than you. Nothing could be farther from the truth. You mean everything to him and the fact that he made you feel anything less than is absolutely eating him alive inside. 

“I promise I want you around all the time,” Eddie tells you. “There’s never a time I don’t want you around. I’m so sorry about before, sweetheart. I clearly wasn’t thinking. Is…is that why you were leaving?”

Without meeting his eyes, you nod your head. “Figured no one wanted me around. Was tired of being here,” you say, gesturing to your house behind you. 

Eddie nods his head and presses a kiss into your hair. You think he’s going to say something, but instead he walks around you and picks up one of the cardboard boxes you were trying to get in your trunk. Instead of assisting you with it, he steps away from your car with the box, and you look at him in confusion.

“What’re you doing?” you ask.

“This was never going to fit in there,” Eddie says, nodding towards your car. “Gonna put it in the back of my van.”

This confuses you more than anything. You watch him in silence, a frown etched into your brow, as he yanks open the back of his van and slides the box inside. 

“Why your van?” you ask.

Eddie gives you a look like the answer should be a no-brainer. 

“Because the boxes weren’t fitting in your trunk, and I have plenty of space in mine.”

“What?” Your brain feels like it has whiplash from everything that’s gone on today. Maybe Eddie was the one making sense and you’re just not getting it. “How’s it going to help me in your van?” 

“Well,” Eddie says as he walks over and picks up another of the boxes that you couldn’t make fit. “We’re going to have to stop at my place, anyway. I’ll have to pack up some shit to take.”

“Take where?” Your voice sounds about as flabbergasted as you feel. The fact that you’re becoming more and more sleep deprived isn’t helping either. 

“Wherever we’re headed,” Eddie says with a shrug. He slides the second box in beside the first one in the back of the van. “The ocean, I presume.”

“What?” you practically shout into the quiet, dark night. 

“You wanna leave, right?” Eddie asks as he closes the back doors of the van. “Finally leaving these assholes you live with, yeah?”

“I, um,” you stutter, not completely sure of what’s going on or what you should say. “Yeah. I-I’m leaving.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow at you and tilts his head.

“And you really think I’d let you leave without me? Bullshit. We can crash at my place tonight then head out in the morning. Maybe plan a route over breakfast.”

“Wha—Eddie, no.” 

The refusal seems to confuse him. His brow pinches together as he leans against the side of his van. 

“What?” he asks.

“You can just pick up and leave. You have Wayne. And the Hellfire guys. And…Chrissy.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says with a humorless chuckle. He shakes his head and makes his way over to you. Gently, he picks one of your hands up in his own and laces your fingers together. “The Hellfire guys still have the club when they head back to school in the fall. Wayne’s been saying you and I should get out of Hawkins for months now. And as for Chrissy?” Eddie shrugs and a knot forms in your stomach. “We’ve only been on one date. And yeah, I really like her. But I’m not going to pass up being on the road with my favorite person.”

Not only does the knot untie itself at your words, but it also seems as if the rope turned into little butterflies that are spreading their wings all throughout your abdomen. 

“O-Okay,” you say, trying to fight back the tears in your eyes. 

“I’ll meet you at the trailer, yeah?” Eddie asks, slinging an arm over your shoulders. “Don’t go getting a head start without me.”

“I promise.”

Eddie holds his pinky up to you. “Pinky promise?”

Smiling, you lock your pinky with his before letting your hands fall to your sides. Eddie takes one last look at your former home before striding over to his van.

“Thank God you’re leaving this place,” he says, eyeing every little detail of the house with disdain. Memories of all the times you called him crying because of something that happened within these walls flood you. It’s the reminder of all the kindness and love he’s given you over the years that really allows you to forgive him for his rude behavior earlier. It still hurts, but expecting Eddie to be perfect wasn’t fair to anyone. 

“I’ll see you in five minutes?” you ask as you finally get your trunk closed.

“Then you’ll never be able to get rid of me.” Eddie throws you a wink before closing himself in the van.

Grinning to yourself, you slide into your own driver’s seat. 

“I’m gonna hold you to that, Munson.”

[barcaatthemoon]

end of an era || jenni hermoso x reader ||

things don't always get better, but jenni tries to help you.

major angst warning, like implied/mentioned suicide attempt angst. proceed with caution.

everything and everyone went silent the moment you fell. it was daunting to watch back as you replayed the stream of your last game over and over again. jenni sighed as she glanced over at you. the two of you had been waiting in the doctor's office for hours now to see how your surgery had gone. both of you knew that it was going to be a long and hard road back, one that you honestly weren't even sure you'd have the chance to attempt.

"will you turn it off please?" jenni asked you. she was beyond trying to be nice about it. you got upset every single time that you watched it, and jenni hated hearing you get hit and go down again and again. she hadn't been there for that game, and it was one of her greatest regrets.

your teammates had told jenni how you had been immediately following the game. jenni almost couldn't believe it, not until she saw for herself that every ounce of happiness had been sucked out of you. you had become obsessive, attempting to figure out where you could have done something to reduce the damage. rather than listen to the countless people who had assured you time and time again that it was a freak accident, you still searched for an answer.

"it's not like i have anything else to do," you grumbled. jenni was really starting to get on your nerves. she was always a little annoying, but it had gone from being endearing to infuriating. "they're just going to tell me that i'm finished. my career is over, even if i can make a comeback. it will be too fucking late, jenni."

"no. no, stop talking like that. you're gonna be fine," jenni told you. oh how you wished that the doctors hadn't made her out to be a liar. jenni believed her words right up until the surgeon came in with a team of people that neither of you had ever seen before.

you felt numb as they gave the time frame of your possible return. it would be well over a year since you required multiple surgeries to fix the tears and breaks. you didn't understand how you had fucked up your body so badly, and it was obvious that jenni didn't either. however, you weren't left wondering for very long. the doctor mentioned old injuries that hadn't healed properly, claiming that your leg was a ticking time bomb that had been resting for nearly a decade.

"that was a waste of fucking time," you grumbled as you rushed towards the car. you were on crutches, so you weren't really moving that fast. jenni had slowed her pace down signficantly to keep up with you. she was carrying your bags, something that you only let her do today because she normally did it for you anyway.

"no, we have a timeline now. that's a good first step towards getting you back to where you need to be." jenni sounded so optimistic still, but you knew that it didn't matter. you'd miss the olympics, and you'd definitely have to retire by the next world cup. your time was running out, and it had essentially been cut in half by your injury.

"jenni, i'll be lucky if i ever get to step foot on a pitch again. let's just get home. i need a fucking drink." you got into the car, ignoring the look that jenni gave you. she was worried about you, despite you technically not doing anything worrisome yet.

you were depressed, and rightfully so. jenni had hoped that the doctors would have some good news for you, but they hadn't. your mood reflected that in the coming weeks as you moped around until you were cleared to start your physical therapy and rehab. your schedule for that was pretty light, especially since you had at least two more surgeries before you were in the clear.

jenni was great, and despite it being her off season, she didn't go back to spain. instead, she had moved temporarily to america to take care of you. you could tell that the move was hard on her, but she couldn't think of letting you stay by yourself. she was afraid that you'd do something stupid or dangerous if she left you alone.

you hated it, and because of that, you started to hate her as well. you hated that jenni kept looking at you like you were made of glass. you hated that she touched you so gently whenever all you wanted was for her to hold you down against the mattress and make you forget the past four months of your life. you hated jenni, and even more so, you hated that she never showed any resentment towards you.

there was always only ever going to be so much that jenni could handle. ten months out of your injury with only one more surgery to go, it all came crashing down around the two of you. the cracks in jenni's patience with you were starting to show, so she had taken a little vacation to spain without you. it wasn't for more than a few days, but it was long enough for your anger to betray you and turn into complete despair.

you had a family history of being fucked up. addiction, depression, anxiety, and a long list of other issues had plagued nearly every other member of your family for as long as you could remember. your parents had both tried to prepare you for the worst of it, and for a time, you thought that you had seen it. you had forgone taking your pain medicine because you had been terrified fo getting hooked on it. there never should have been so many pills in the house, but jenni knew she couldn't have just taken your extra ones with her to spain.

you wanted to call jenni, but she'd talk you down. you didn't feel like you deserved it. you had treated her so badly for nearly a year, to the point where she left the continent to get away from you. however, you believed that you owed her at least a text. something to thank her for taking care of you and apologize for being such a piece of shit for so long.

the time zone different meant that jenni should have been fast asleep. you didn't count on jenni being wide awake at 2 am. how could you have known that she hadn't been sleeping well since you got hurt. the vacation to spain should have been relaxing, but jenni couldn't quiet the voice in the back of her head warning her that you still weren't doing any better mentally. that was why she hadn't even finished reading your text before she was calling some of your american teammates to check up on you, hopeful that it wasn't too late.

…

"i'm here! i'm here!" jenni was nearly tripping over herself as she ran into your hospital room. she stopped when she saw you. you had expected her to start yelling at you or something, but instead she just broke down in front of you.

"i'm sorry," you apologized. jenni tried to tell you not to be sorry, but she couldn't get it out. all she could do is kneel by your bed and cry as your hand weakly ran through your hair. "it should have worked."

"i-is that how you really feel?" jenni asked you. you realized that wasn't at all what she wanted to hear, and suddenly you were filled with guilt. all of that hate and anger that you had felt before came back, but this time it was fully directed towards yourself.

"yes," you whispered. jenni wiped her eyes and stood up as she stared down at you. "i've been awful to you. how can you still love me?"

"are you fucking stupid?" jenni regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth. for the first time in months, jenni finally saw you cry. "shit. shit, shit, shit, c'mere. i'm sorry, i didn't mean it like that. i love you, i want to see you get better."

"jenni, i'm not sure that there is a better. what if i come back and this happens all over again? i think that i need to retire and take some time by myself," you told her.

"a-are you breaking up with me?" jenni asked you. there was a flash of anger in her eyes, one that completely overshadowed the hurt. "i took care of you for almost a year. i waited for you to get better, to be yourself again because i love you so much. you can't just make a decision like this by yourself, not when you aren't in the right headspace."

"jenni, they're keeping me here on a hold for a while until i can prove that i'm okay. i'm selling my place here. i don't want us to be over, but i think that if you can find someone who actually deserves you while i'm gone, then you should go for it. and if you don't by the time that i'm better, then i'd really like you to consider letting me come back to you," you told her. jenni didn't like the sound of that, but it wasn't a clear breakup. it was a break, if anything, and jenni knew for a fact that she wouldn't find someone else unless you actually forced her to. "i've already been let out of my contracts, they're just waiting to make the announcements."

"i wish that you'd reconsider this, but i am glad that you can make rational decisions," jenni said. you nodded as you gave her hand a little squeeze. there was a chair by your bed, but jenni crawled right in next to you. she had a couple days to stay with you before you were moved to the facility that you'd call home for as long as it took you to get better. jenni didn't know when you'd be back, but she kept a calendar to keep count of the days you were gone.

[judesmoonbeauty]

Melted By Summer Lust - Jude Jazza 95k Bonus Story

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. What I obtain is what will be translated. MDNI. Thank you, for you support! ☾.

During the summer, all of Crown planned to go to a summer resort.

That’s what should’ve happened but……

The ship got severely damaged in a storm, so we each had to take a lifeboat.

In the end, Jude and I ended up on the same lifeboat which washed up on a small island……

Kate: Where is this……

Jude: Tch……can’t even see the formation o’ the island. For now, let’s secure a base ‘n food while it’s light out.

Kate: O-okay!

Afterward, Jude gave me several instructions and we split up to explore the island.

As I explore, there’s no time to feel down or lost —

I’m grateful to keep busy, otherwise I’d worry about the current situation.

Eventually, the sun set……We decided to take shelter from the elements in a cave.

Jude: These are edible fruits, so we can manage for a while.

Kate: That so……Well…….I’ll give you a massage.

Jude: Huh? Why ya bein’ weird all o’ sudden?

Kate: Jude, you’re the one who built the fire and created a water storage system for us, didn’t you.

Kate: I also, want to be of some help……

Jude: Well, I’ve got more physical strength ‘n knowledge than ya, so it’s only natural.

Kate: But……

Jude: If ya waste your energy ‘n pass out, I ain't takin' care of ya.

Kate: ……I got it.

It’s true, I can’t help if I can’t do anything and end up being troublesome.

I lay silently on the hard ground so as not to bother Jude.

(It’s not enough to ask Jude.)

(Starting tomorrow, I need to think of what I can do…...!)

The next day. After eating fruit for breakfast, I started to search for food.

(It’s hot……I feel dizzy…..)

(But, I can’t quit……)

I guess my judgement dulled because I was in such an extreme situation, and I didn't know if help would come.

(…..Huh?)

Suddenly, my vision became pitch black and I lost strength in my legs.

……How long has it been, since then?

Before I knew it, I was looking out at the ocean from the sandy beach, feeling the lukewarm sea breeze.

Jude: There ya are.

Jude sat down and nestled himself so closely to me that there was no gap between us, like a boyfriend would.

It was an odd sense of distance for Jude, but I didn’t think anything of it at the time.

Kate: Jude? Why are you here……

Kate: If I recall, you were looking for fruit today, weren’t you?

Jude: “Lookin’ for it?” Whaddya sayin’. I mapped out where the fruit grows after we washed up on the island.

Kate: Huh, when?

Jude: ‘Bout three years ago. ……Why’re ya bein’ stupid.

Jude: No way, don’t tell me ya forgot we became lovers?

(Jude and I’ve been stranded on this island for three years now, and we became lovers…..?)

(…..Yea. It might’ve been. It seems that way……..!)

Kate: I have forgotten. It’s such an important thing.

Three years ago, we washed upon this deserted island and started living here……

However, no matter how long we wait, there’s no one who will come to pick us up……

(A few years later — Jude and I became lovers.)

That’s not to say that……while helping each other on the deserted island, we became attracted the one another.

Since we were the only other people, we gradually settled on our current relationship.

— Looking back at the past three years, I looked out to the ocean.

Kate: Oh……!

Thinking I had seen a large shadow on the horizon where the sun was setting, I stood up without thinking.

Kate: Jude! Could it be……

Jude: ……It’s a whale. Ain’t a boat.

Kate: You’re right…..it’s not.

I could hear the disappointment in my own voice as I spoke.

(Even though it’s been three years, I still can’t let go to the hope that help might come.)

(I - I’m bad at giving up……)

Kate: ……I, wonder how everyone is doing.

Kate: …….I want to eat Victor’s scones. I want to hear William play the piano as well……

Kate: I still wanted to see Liam’s play, and I haven’t even returned the novel I borrowed from Harrison-

Jude: ……Haa. Thinkin’ ‘bout other men while next to me.

When I looked back at Jude who responded sarcastically, I could see loneliness set into his amethyst eyes.

(Now, I am all Jude has, and Jude is all I have.)

(We have no choice but to live together forever……Why did I bring up the others?)

(If I ask for things out of reach, I’ll just end up troubling Jude…….)

Kate: ……Jude.

Calling his name, I softly kiss his cheek.

As I repeatedly did this, as if to fill the hole in my heart, Jude pushed me down onto the sandy beach.

Kate: Hmm….

He kissed me with bites on my lips, leaving bite marks all over my body, including my neck and shoulders.

Deeper and deeper his teeth sank, like a wedge driving into me.

Kate: More……

Kate: Please, make it hurt more……..to the point that I forget everything else…..

Even after we returned to the cave that night, we didn’t leave each other’s side.

There’s no love between us.

…….But it’s only when we interact like this, am I able to forget my feelings of loneliness and sadness.

Kate: Hah…..nn……

Jude’s fingertips stir inside me and make a squelching sound.

Jude: Nn……

Kate: Ah, ahhh….!

My body trembles in pleasure as he spread me apart with his fingers while biting into my shoulder.

As if begging for more, my insides contract around Jude’s fingers.

Jude: Ha……You’re squeezin’ me like it’s delicious….lewd.

Jude inserted more fingers into me as he said this with a look of delight.

Kate: Oh, ohh…..! Jude, I’m already……

I cling tightly to Jude’s shoulder, and start moving my hips.

Jude: Your the only one havin’ fun. Don’t cum without permission.

Kate: Ahh…..

My eyes reluctantly follow his fingertips as they pulled out……however, the loneliness wasn’t felt for long.

Jude unfastened his belt, and my heart pounded with anticipation.

Jude: ……Kate.

More than the suffocating heat of summer……Jude’s voice calling me felt hotter.

(I want to be melted even more……by Jude’s heat…….)

Kate: Jude……

After I called in want, something hot applied to my entrance.

That’s when -

The scene suddenly changed.

Kate:….That?

When I woke up, I was sleeping in a cave.

As soon as I sat up, I felt a throbbing pain in my head and let out a small groan.

Jude: ….You’re awake.

Kate: Well….Why was I sleeping…..

Jude: ….How much d’ya remember?

Kate: Well, it’s been three years since we came to this island, you and I became lovers Jude, and last night -

Jude: Three Years? Lovers? Didja have a dream that made ya think that?

Kate: What……?

Jude: Day after we got to the deserted island, ya got weirdly worked up ‘n passed out under the sun.

Jude: Brought ya here to rest……looks like a mild case of heatstroke.

(The next day, that means the years I spent with Jude and our relationship, were all just a dream……)

Jude: Drink this now that you’re awake. It’s already been boiled.

Jude handed me a cup made from folded leaves.

Kate: Ah, delicious. Thank you…..

The water that flowed into my parched throat made me feel like I was coming back to life.

Kate: I’m sorry for causing trouble……..

Jude: Really. Drink this ‘n lie down.

Kate: Alright……

I obediently laid down, and Jude placed a wet cloth on my forehead.

(Where’d he get the cloth…..?)

Curious, I looked over and saw that a part of Jude’s shirt was torn.

(You took care of me and even tore your shirt…..)

Kate: Thank you, Jude……

After saying thanks, I passed out from exhaustion.**

I slowly woke up to crackling sounds.

Seems like after resting, I recovered enough that my throbbing headache is gone.

When I looked in the direction of the sound, I found Jude grilling fish over a fire.

Jude: …..Didja wake? Appetite?

Kate: There is…..

Jude took one of the fish he was grilling and handed it to me on a large leaf as a plate.

Jude: Time to eat. Since ya collapsed, you’d better get some nutrition.

Kate: Right……

Wrapping it in the leaf, I bit into the crispy skin of the freshly grilled fish.

Kate: Mm….! It’s salty, meaty and….. very delicious…..!

Kate: Where’d you get the fish?

Jude: Caught ‘em by hand when I swam into the shallows, ‘n the salt was taken from the seawater.

Saying it like it was nothing, Jude started to eat his portion of the fish.

(Jude’s so amazing…..I’ll try to catch something at the beach tomorrow too.)

I decided that I wanted to help but -

Jude: You’ll rest here tomorrow too.

When I was getting ready for bed after dinner, Jude told me that.

Kate: W-why? I’m fine now, so I’ll do something starting tomorrow!

Jude: Even if ya think you’ve recovered, once someone collapses it’ll happen again.

Jude: ……Wanna be a nuisance to me, then I won’t stop ya.

Kate: I understand…….I don’t want to be a nuisance…..

(But, I feel bad just resting in the cave.)

(I hope I can do something that won’t put a strain on my body…..)

Jude: ……In exchange, I’ve prepared a job for ya too.

Kate: Really?!

Jude: Ha……how much do ya want to work?

Kate: I wanted to help, but things had to be done for me…..It was so frustrating.

Kate: So, what do I need to do?

Jude: Story. Tell me one.

Kate: Story…..?

Jude: Don’t have a comfortable bed, ‘n I had trouble sleepin’ last night.

Jude: If I listen to your stupid stories, I think it’ll be borin’ ‘nough to sleep.

Kate: …..Got it. I’ll do my best to put you to sleep, Jude.

Maybe, Jude doesn’t need a bedtime story.

Perhaps he was giving me something that wasn’t burdensome, because I was feeling frustrated.

Kate: Now what kind of story do you want to hear tonight, got any requests?*** Wishes changed to requests.

Jude: If that’s the case, then….the dream ya had is good.

Kate: What.

Jude: Ya said somethin’ weird ‘bout me becomin’ your lover. I’m interested.

Kate: …..I, I understand. Please don’t get angry and just listen.

After we both laid down, I told him about my dream.

How after years of not being picked up, in order to fill the loneliness, Jude and I became lovers.

I was too embarrassed to talk about the affair…..so I only mentioned about being bitten.

Jude: Hmm, that was a complete nightmare to have.

Kate: Th-that’s right……It was dreadful not being picked up for three years.

Jude: That’s it?

Kate: What?

Jude: Ya said ya were bitten. If I became your lover, it’d be a nightmare for ya.

Kate: No, that’s not the nightmare. Rather…..

(Oh, I……what did I just say?)

Jude: ……Oi.

Jude’s deep voice sounds like it’s going to melt into the summer night.

He reached out and grabbed me by the arm, as if to say he wouldn’t let me go.

Jude: Why’ve ya been lookin’ at me strangely lately?

Kate: What…..

While I was at a loss for words, Jude looked at me and bit my wrist.

Kate: …..tss.

Jude:…..Looks like, you don’t care what I do to ya.

Jude: Let’s see how far I can tease ya 'n ya still enjoy it.

He grabbed my hand and pushed me to the ground.

With the strong scent of sandalwood, Jude drew closer and bit my shoulder.

Kate: Ah……

Jude: See, it’s become a kink. Ya like bein’ in pain.

Kate: T-that’s n-

Just as I was about to deny it, I heard a voice from far away.

Liam’s Voice: There are footprints and a cave here! Kate! Jude! You there?

Ellis’ Voice: ……Jude, you’re not dead are you?

Roger’s Voice: I heard their voices, so I guess their still alive.

Kate: I-It’s everyone’s voices……!

Jude: ……That was unexpectedly quick.

We both and stand up and head out of the cave towards the voices.

Along the way, I gently stroked the area where Jude had bitten me.

When I was bitten in real life, it felt sweeter and more painful than when I was bitten in the dream.

Jude’s profile, illuminated by the faint moonlight when he’d bitten me,

Everything was so vivid, including the scent of sandalwood I felt the moment I was bitten.

Reality left a more indelible mark on my heart, than a dream of delicious hands could.

(It’s…..not that pain has become a kink for me)

(Rather it’s for Jude himself, who inflicts the pain, that’s become the kink……)

(……Isn’t it just my imagination.)

Tag List: @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @sh0jun @letter-from-afar

Dividers: @/natimiles [Master List]

**This line literally translates 'As soon as I said thanks, I fell asleep like mud.' Apparently, this is saying in Japan to indicate complete exhaustion. So, I changed it. ***This line literally translates to: ..."got any hopes/wishes." I changed this to 'requests' to localize it better.

Well, I hope you all enjoyed it! I did. NEED MORE.

[sukunasweetheart]

That schoolboy sukuna art you reblogged got me thinking🤔its a bit basic but still😵‍💫 tsundere bully!sukuna being so mean to popular!reader cause he likes her‼️ Anytime one of his friends suggest that he likes her, he gets 10x meaner. Meanwhile reader genuinely thinks the dude that just tore up her homework HATES her. Then one day he goes too far and really embarrasses her so she starts crying while her friends try to comfort her (he threw dirty water on her or something🤷‍♀️) Obviously readers had enough of him so she confronts him the next time they see each other alone, only for that dude to end up blurting out how much he likes her. Readers standing there flabbergasted😦🧍‍♀️ and then tells him off (he deserves it💀) . They dont see each other until their highschool reunion 5 years later(?) Sukunas matured alot but of course readers still hesitant to even talk to him. Blahblahblah he apologizes, reader forgives him after they hang out a few times and then BOOM dating‼️

This was such a anticlimactic end but i hope you get what i mean. Reader doesn't start liking him until monthsss after the reunion. Sukuna still seeing her as his first love/crush except he's not a weirdo about it anymore. And cause he probably just threw all his focus on taking over the family business (this is canon gege told me)

Literally i lowk fw this idea sooo hard... like childhood bully that grows up around you, little sukuna has always been a harrassing you ever since youve moved into the neighbourhood, and it carries over into highschool as well...

Its like, to the point where you have personal beef with him, always ready to square up when he's around...

but the fact that he never has his lackeys with him when he does bully you, and the one time someone did try to give you some silly treatment while he was watching, he gave him the beating of his life behind closed doors...

Sukuna having silly wet dreams of you and then being extra mean the next day. You retaliate physically, giving dainty little punches and kicks, you know, the kind that does zero damage, but for some reason he backs off easier than usual that day and walks away, muttering something under his breath, something that you can't quite hear clearly.

after all those years of pretending to hate you by calling you names and teasing you relentlessly, sukuna has the gall to confess right after graduation. he just blurts it out kind of accidentally, in the spur of the moment, because he feels like it'll be his last chance to ever come true with his feelings.

except, he ends up getting the scolding of his life, as you tell him off for the pestering way he's treated you, only for him to turn around and tell you he has feelings for you?! you tell him that it was cowardly of him, and he should take this as a lesson to treat the people he likes better, before turning on your heel and leaving him in the dust. you're his first love, and also his first heartbreak.

couple of years later, there's a highschool reunion happening, and although you wanted to avoid it because of the awkwardness of having to meet sukuna, you still ended up going because you really miss your old highschool friends.

you're at a nice restaurant with your buddies, enjoying your time, yet also noticing sukuna's missing presence in the back of your mind... you probably think he's not coming to avoid you. not that you care for it.

things were going smoothly, but then he eventually did show up. late to the party, as if he were the protagonist... everyone goes silent for a moment when he shows up, because he's arguably changed the most out of you all...

the rather bold tattoos done all over his body, piercings, and the black nail polish, how much he's bulked up in muscle. and that black button-up shirt is... well, very erotic. no longer that awkward, juvenile teenager you've always pictured him as. sukuna was never ugly per se, but goodness, this kind of glow up was really unexpected. and it turned out that he ended up taking over his family business, which kept him quite busy the past few years.

you catch his eye for a moment across the table, but you quickly look the other way. maybe he might've gotten hotter over the years, but you're not sure about that damn personality of his.

it seemed like he was finding it difficult to approach you in front of everyone else - he chases after you only when the meeting is over, and everyone had begun to go home. you feel a little nervous about the encounter, but the first thing he does is apologise, which gets you feeling a lot better about him as a person. sometimes, time does change a person.

and then sukuna tells you he wants to take you out for a meal, and asks you for your number... your old, easygoing self takes over for a moment. certainly a meal or two wouldn't hurt, would it?

(sukuna goes home and starts kicking his feet in bed that night, after scoring your number - beginning his lovesick era.)