#the lip tint is harder to explain

[stylesispunk]

'You gave me something to lose'

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: Joel is afraid of losing you.

wc: 4k>

warnings: angst, mentions of panic attacks, fluff. Messy writing cause this is an old draft.

a/n: this was on my drafts for so long so I'm posting this as a gift because I'm going to London for the next two weeks and I won't be very active on here. So once I return, I promise I'll write the pendant things and requests I have. I hope you like this one. Happy reading 💌

dividerers by @/saradika-graphics

Joel didn’t fear anything, not dying nor being alone or even broke.

Not the clickers, not darkness, but you.

when his mission to take Ellie to the fireflies became into caring for the teen, he felt panicked.

And when he learned he had fallen deeply in love with you, you gave him something to lose.

And he was frightened.

Joel had always been a fortress, walls built high and strong to keep out the pain and loss he had endured. But now, those walls were crumbling. Each moment he spent with you, each secret you both had shared, each tender touch, chipped away at the defenses he had so meticulously constructed.

Since the day Joel met you at the QZ in Boston, you had stolen something from him. He didn’t decipher what back then, but every time you weren’t on his sight, a knot formed on his stomach. Every time he caught a glimpse of you, his blood rushed into his cheeks.

And God, every single time you smiled at him, he could find a reason to keep surviving in this world, again.

And that’s why when you had decided to go after him, when he and Tess took Ellie with them to the fireflies. He had made up his mind, between the anger and tinted loved was feeling for you right at that moment, he had decided he was going to protect you more than anything or anyone. Even when you got on his nerves.

The journey to the fireflies was grueling. The roads were treacherous, infested with clickers and hunters. Every step was a battle, every night a gamble. But Joel was relentless. He led the way with a grim determination, always keeping you and Ellie close. The tension was palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the danger that lurked in every shadow.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the desolate landscape, you found a moment of respite. The group set up camp in an abandoned building, its crumbling walls offering a semblance of shelter. Joel, ever vigilant, took the first watch.

You approached him, the flickering firelight casting dancing shadows across his weathered face. He looked up as you neared, his eyes softening slightly. “You should get some rest,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

You shook your head, sitting down beside him. “I can’t sleep. Too much on my mind.”

Joel glanced at you, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I get that.” There was a pause, a comfortable silence settling between you. “You know,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, “I never thought I’d feel this way again. Not after everything.”

You looked at him, searching his eyes. “What do you mean?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve…” he paused, “Never mind.”

You furrowed your brow, sensing the weight of his unspoken words. “Joel, you can talk to me. Whatever it is, I’m here.”

He looked away, his jaw tightening. “It’s just… it’s hard to explain.” He paused again, just a few seconds, lifting his gaze up to yours “Why did you followed us three?” he asked.

The question caught you off guard, but you didn’t hesitate in your response. “I didn’t follow all of you. I followed you.”

“Why?”

“Because back in the QZ there wasn’t a life after you” you confessed, “Life sucks in there, but without you it would be worse.”

Joel’s eyes widened slightly, the vulnerability of your words hitting him harder than he expected. He stared at you, trying to process the depth of your feelings. “I never knew…”

“Of course you didn’t,” you interrupted softly. “You’ve always been so focused on surviving, on protecting Tess and yourself, that you’ve never stopped to see how much you mean to people. How much you mean to me.”

He shook his head, struggling to find the right words. “Good to know it because I feel the same about you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, his admission filling you with warmth. "Joel..."

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. “When I met you, I didn’t think I could care for anyone again. But you... you changed that.”

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, but you held them back, not wanting to break the cosmic moment “I’m glad. Because I can’t imagine going through this without you.”

Joel reached out, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb gently brushing away a stray tear that had escaped. “Now can you, please go to sleep?”

“Can I sleep here?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel’s expression softened, and without hesitation, he nodded. “Yeah, you can.”

He shifted, making room for you to lie down beside him. As you settled in, the warmth of his body next to yours was both comforting and grounding. You felt his arm wrap around you, pulling you closer, and you snuggled into his embrace, feeling safe and protected.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his chest.

“For what?” he asked softly, his breath warm against your hair.

“For letting me in. For trusting me.”

Joel pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I trust you more than anyone. And I’m glad you’re here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You smiled, the weight of the world feeling just a little bit lighter in his arms. “We’ll figure it out together. “As the night deepened, the sounds of the wilderness outside seemed distant, the crackling fire casting a gentle glow around you. Joel’s steady heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest were the lullaby that finally coaxed you into sleep. In his arms, you found a peace you hadn’t known in a long time.

He felt his heart giving up for you.

That had happened a few months ago.

And Joel had become afraid. He found himself lying awake almost every night, staring at the sky and the stars, a storm of thoughts raging in his mind. What if something happened to you? What if he couldn't protect you? The thought of losing you, of seeing the light fade from your eyes, was a nightmare he couldn't bear. It was a fear far greater than anything he had ever faced; greater than the harsh realities of the post-apocalyptic world he had navigated for so long.

During the day, he tried to push these fears aside, trying to focus on the present. But it was impossible. Every smile you gave him reminded him of what he stood to lose. Every time you reached for his hand, his heart ached with the weight of his love for you and the dread of its potential loss.

He watched you with Ellie, how you cared for her, and how you brought joy and laughter into her bleak world. He saw how you made her feel safe and loved, and it only made his feelings for you deepen. Ellie, too, had become a part of this fragile, makeshift family, and his love for both of you intertwined, creating a web of vulnerability he couldn't escape.

The wind howled outside, carrying with it the bitter cold of the frozen winter night. Inside the small, dilapidated cabin, a fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow across the room. You, Joel, and Ellie huddled close to the fire, trying to fend off the chill that seemed to seep through the very walls.

Ellie poked at the fire with a stick, her eyes reflecting the dancing flames. "What do you think it’ll be like, Joel?" she asked, her voice filled with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

Joel looked up from the map he was studying, his eyes softening as he met Ellie’s gaze. "What do you mean?"

"After the cure," she said. "When this is all over. What do you think it’ll be like?"

Joel leaned back against the rough wooden wall, his mind drifting to a time long past. "I reckon things will be...different. Better, maybe. People could rebuild, start over. There might be schools again, towns with shops, places where kids can just be kids."

Ellie smiled at the thought, her imagination running wild with possibilities. "I want to learn to play guitar," she said. "Like you, Joel. You promised to teach me, remember?"

Joel chuckled softly, a rare sound in these harsh times. "Yeah, I remember. We'll find one, and I'll teach you. Maybe we can even have a little concert, you and me."

You watched the exchange, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. "What about you, Joel? What's something you’d want to do?"

Joel hesitated, his eyes flicking to you. "I... I’d like to have a place of our own. Somewhere safe. Maybe a little house with a garden. We could grow our own food, live a quiet life. Just...be together."

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection. "That sounds nice," you said softly. "Really nice."

The conversation drifted into a comfortable silence, each of you lost in thoughts of a hopeful future. You leaned against Joel, the warmth of his body a comforting presence. His arm wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you closer.

Ellie yawned and stretched out on the floor next to the fire. "I think I'm going to get some sleep," she said, her voice already heavy with exhaustion.

"Good idea," Joel replied. "I’ll keep the watch."

Ellie nodded and pulled her blanket tightly around herself, quickly drifting off to sleep. You and Joel stayed by the fire, the quiet crackling of the flames the only sound in the room.

"Do you really think there’s hope for a cure?" you asked quietly, your head resting on his shoulder.

Joel sighed, his fingers gently stroking your arm. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I have to believe there is. For Ellie. For you."

You tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes searching his. "You’ve been through so much, Joel. Yet you still find it in you to hope. That’s incredible."

He shook his head slightly. "It's not hope," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's you.”

Joel’s panic attacks had become more frequent as the days passed. Every quiet moment seemed to stretch into an eternity of worry and fear. He could feel the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him, and the constant fear that he wouldn’t be able to protect you or Ellie gnawed at him relentlessly.

When the three of you had finally arrived at Jackson, Joel’s thoughts were a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Jackson was a sanctuary, a place where you could all be safe, but his fears didn’t dissipate. If anything, they grew stronger. The more secure the surroundings, the more he worried about what could go wrong.

Jackson was bustling with life, a stark contrast to the desolate landscapes they had traversed. Children played in the streets, people worked in gardens, and there was a sense of community and hope that was almost overwhelming. Joel watched it all with a heavy heart, his mind racing.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was going to die, that some unseen danger would take him away from you and Ellie. The thought of leaving you unprotected was unbearable. That’s when the idea started to form: maybe the best way to protect you was to leave you in Jackson, where you’d be safe. Where you could even find someone younger than him to kept you alive.

Joel sought out his brother. He found Tommy in the community hall, finishing up some late-night paperwork. The room was quiet, the only sound the scratch of Tommy’s pen against the paper.

"Tommy," Joel said, his voice low and strained.

Tommy looked up, immediately sensing the urgency in his brother’s tone. "Joel, what’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

Joel took a deep breath, his hands trembling. He sat down across from Tommy, his eyes filled with anguish. "I need to talk to you. It’s about Ellie and... and my….my " He couldn’t find the words to describe you. Calling you his lover wasn’t a proper word to use, it felt so weak. There was not nickname that could make justice to what you meant to him.

“Your girlfriend?” Tommy asked.

Joel nodded.

Tommy set his pen down, giving Joel his full attention. "Alright, tell me what’s on your mind."

Joel’s voice cracked as he spoke. "I don’t know how much longer I can do this. The fear... it’s eating me alive. I’m so scared something’s going to happen to them, and I won’t be able to protect them."

Tommy’s expression softened. "Joel, you’re in Jackson now. It’s safe here. We’ve got walls, people who care about each other. You don’t have to do this alone."

Joel shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. "You don’t understand. I feel like I’m going to die, like something’s going to take me away from them. And then what? What happens to them if I’m gone?"

Tommy reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Joel’s shoulder. "We’ll take care of them, Joel. You’re not alone in this."

Joel’s tears began to fall, his voice choked with emotion. "I’m asking you to take Ellie with you. Keep her safe. And let my baby stay here in Jackson. She deserves a life that’s not filled with running and fear."

Tommy’s eyes widened in shock. "Joel, are you sure about this? You’re talking about leaving them behind."

"I’m not leaving them," Joel said, his voice trembling. "I’m trying to protect them. They’ll be safer without me."

Tommy sighed, his heart breaking for his brother. "And what about you, Joel? What happens to you if you leave?"

Joel wiped his tears, trying to steady himself. "I’ll find a way to keep going. I just need to know they’re safe. That’s all that matters."

Tommy nodded slowly, understanding the depth of Joel’s fear and love. "Alright, Joel. If this is what you think is best, I’ll take care of them. But you need to talk to them first. They deserve to know why you’re doing this."

Joel nodded, his heart heavy with the weight of his decision. "I will. Thank you, Tommy."

Tommy pulled Joel into a tight embrace; his voice filled with emotion. "We’re family, Joel. We take care of each other."

Joel clung to his brother, the tears flowing freely now. He knew the conversation with you and Ellie would be one of the hardest things he’d ever have to do, but he also knew it was necessary. The fear of losing you both was too great to ignore, and he hoped that, in time, you would understand why he had to make this choice.

Joel walked slowly to Ellie’s room, his heart heavy with the burden of what he was about to do. He knew this conversation would be one of the hardest of his life, but he also believed it was necessary. He took a deep breath and knocked softly on her door.

“Come in,” Ellie’s voice called from inside.

He opened the door and stepped into the room. Ellie was sitting on her bed, reading one of the books she had found in Jackson’s library. She looked up and smiled when she saw him, but her smile faded when she noticed the serious expression on his face.

“Joel, what’s wrong?” she asked, her brows furrowing with concern.

Joel closed the door behind him and sat down on the edge of the bed. He looked at Ellie, her young face full of life and determination, and it made his heart ache.

“Ellie, we need to talk,” he said softly, struggling to find the right words.

Ellie set her book aside and gave him her full attention. “What’s going on?”

Joel took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly. “Ellie, I’ve been thinking a lot about our journey, about everything we’ve been through. And... about what comes next.”

Ellie shook her head, her voice rising with emotion. “Joel, no. We’re supposed to stick together. We’re a team.”

Joel looked down, unable to meet her eyes. “Ellie, I’m not sure I can keep doing this. The fear... it’s too much. I’m scared something’s going to happen to you, and I won’t be able to protect you.”

Ellie reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “We protect each other, Joel. That’s how we’ve always done it.”

Joel swallowed hard, his voice breaking. “I’m asking Tommy to take you to the fireflies. He’ll keep you safe until you arrive to the hospital.”

Ellie’s eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head fiercely. “No, Joel. I’m not going without you. We’ve come this far together, and I’m not leaving you.”

Joel’s heart ached at her words, but he forced himself to continue. “Ellie, you need to understand. I’m not... I’m not your father. I can’t be the one to keep you safe forever.”

The words hung heavy in the air, and Ellie’s tears began to fall. “You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a father, Joel. Don’t you get that? Fuck”

Joel’s own tears threatened to spill over, but he steeled himself. “But you’re not my daughter and I’m not your father.”

Ellie shook her head, her voice filled with desperation. “No, Joel. Please. Don’t do this. We need you.”

Joel reached out, cupping her face in his hands. “I need you to trust me, Ellie. This is the best way to keep you safe.”

Ellie pulled away from his touch, her face a mix of anger and heartbreak. “I don’t want to be safe if it means losing you. You and her are all I have, Joel.”

Joel stood up, his heart shattering at her words. “I’m sorry, Ellie. But this is how it has to be.”

He turned and walked toward the door, each step feeling like a lead weight. He paused at the doorway, looking back at Ellie one last time.

With that, he walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. He leaned against the wall, his heart breaking at the sound of Ellie’s muffled sobs. He knew this was one of the hardest decisions he had ever made, but he believed it was the right one.

As he stood there, trying to compose himself, he heard footsteps approaching. You appeared at the end of the hallway, having heard the conversation. Your eyes met his, and in that moment, he saw the same mix of anger, hurt, and confusion that Ellie had shown.

You approached Joel slowly, your face a mix of anger and hurt. He could see the questions in your eyes, the need for an explanation that would make sense of the pain he had caused.

"Joel," you said, your voice trembling. "What are you doing?"

Joel looked down, unable to meet your gaze. "I'm trying to keep you both safe. You and Ellie. This place, Jackson... it's where you can have a real life."

Your eyes narrowed, and you took a step closer. "And you think abandoning us is the way to do that? How could you even consider leaving us behind?"

Joel sighed, his shoulders slumping. "It's not abandoning you. It's making sure you're protected. If something happens to me—"

You cut him off, your voice rising with emotion. "Don't you get it, Joel? We need you. Ellie needs you. I need you. You're the reason we've made it this far. You can't just walk away."

Joel's eyes were filled with pain as he looked up at you. "I can't shake the fear that I'm going to die, that I won't be there when you need me most. I thought if I left, you'd be safer."

You stepped even closer, your anger giving way to desperation. "Safer? Joel, we've faced everything together. We protect each other. How can you think we'd be better off without you? How can you think I would be better off without you?""

Joel's voice was barely a whisper. "Because I can't bear the thought of losing you.”

Your heart ached at his words, but you knew you had to make him understand. You reached out, taking his hands in yours. "Joel, I love you. I need you with me, not just for protection, but because you're my love. Leaving me won't keep me safe; it'll break me."

Joel looked at you, tears welling in his eyes. "I don't know if I can do this. The fear is... it's too much."

You squeezed his hands, your voice gentle but firm. "We'll face it together, Joel. Just like we always have. You're not alone in this. Please, don't leave me."

Joel pulled you into a tight embrace, his tears finally spilling over. "I'm so scared," he admitted, his voice choked with emotion.

You held him close, your own tears falling. "I know, Joel. But we're stronger together. I need you. Ellie and I need you"

As you stood there, holding each other in the quiet of the hallway, Joel felt the weight of his fear begin to lift. The love and determination in your voice gave him the strength he needed to keep going. At least for a bit.

After a long moment, Joel pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I was trying to do the right thing.”

You nodded; your heart full of relief. "We'll figure it out, Joel. Together."

Joel took a deep breath, cupping your face in his hands. “I love you so much,” he said, pecking your lips.

Your heart swelled with emotion as you returned his kiss, a soft, reassuring touch. “I love you too, Joel,” you whispered, your voice steady with conviction.

Joel rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as if trying to etch this moment into his memory. “I just don’t want to lose you or Ellie. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to either of you.”

You stroked his cheek, your thumb brushing away a stray tear. “We’re not going anywhere, Joel. We’ve made it through so much already, and we’ll keep making it through. Together.”

He nodded, pulling you into a tighter embrace, the warmth of his body a comforting reminder of his presence. “Together,” he repeated, his voice more confident now.

You pulled back slightly from the embrace, looking up into Joel’s eyes. "Come on," you said softly, taking his hand. "Let’s get cleaned up. It’s been a long day."

He nodded, allowing you to lead him down the hall to the bathroom. The room was small, but it had a functioning shower—one of the many luxuries you had come to appreciate in this place. You turned on the water, adjusting the temperature until it was just right.

Joel stood there, watching you with an exhaustion and adoration. He started to undress, his movements were slow You did the same, your eyes meeting his with every piece of clothing that fell to the floor. There was an unspoken understanding between you. Both of you bared int front of each other, stealing glances of your bodies in display.

Once you were both undressed, you stepped into the shower together. The warm water cascaded over your bodies, washing away the grime and tension of the day. You reached for the soap, lathering it between your hands before gently running them over Joel’s shoulders and back.

He sighed, leaning into your touch. "You don’t have to do this," he murmured.

"I want to," you replied, your voice tender. "Let me take care of you." You said, pressing a kiss on his wet shoulder.

You continued to wash him, your hands moving in soothing, circular motions. The warmth of the water and the intimacy of the moment began to ease the tension in his muscles. When you reached his hair, you took the shampoo and began to work it into a lather, your fingers massaging his scalp.

Joel closed his eyes, a soft groan escaping his lips. "That feels nice," he admitted.

You smiled, continuing to wash his hair with gentle care. "Good. You deserve to relax."

After rinsing the shampoo from his hair, you handed him the soap. "Your turn," you said with a playful smile.

He took the soap, his hands surprisingly gentle as he began to wash your shoulders and back. The feel of his strong, calloused hands against your skin was comforting, a reminder of how much you meant to each other. He took his time, his touch tender and affectionate, showing the love he felt for you.

When he reached your hair, he repeated the process, his fingers working the shampoo through your locks with the same care you had shown him. You closed your eyes, savoring the sensation of his hands in your hair and the warmth of the water cascading over you.

For a while, the two of you stood there, simply enjoying the closeness and the rare moment of peace. The world outside might be filled with danger and uncertainty, but here, in this small bathroom, there was only love.

When you were both clean, you turned off the water and reached for a towel, wrapping it around Joel’s shoulders before taking another for yourself. You helped each other dry off, the intimacy of the moment deepening the existent bond between you.

Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and love. "Thank you," he said softly.

You cupped his face in your hands, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "We’re in this together, Joel. Always."

He nodded, pulling you into a tight embrace. "Together," he echoed.

As you both stood there in the warmth of the bathroom, wrapped in towels and each other's embrace, the bond between you felt stronger than ever. The fear and uncertainty of the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the love and trust you had for each other.

Joel kissed the top of your head and took your hand, leading you back to the bedroom. The soft glow of the lamp illuminated the bedroom, casting a warm, golden hue over the room. You both moved slowly, savoring the peaceful moment.

You helped Joel into bed, making sure he was comfortable before slipping in beside him. He pulled you close, his arms wrapped protectively around you. The simple act of being in his arms felt like the safest place in the world.

Joel tilted his head slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead as he spoke. "I love you so much," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "More than I can ever put into words."

You looked up at him, your heart swelling at the raw honesty in his eyes. "I love you too, Joel. So much."

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I don't think I've ever felt this way before. I mean, caring this much for someone. Not since Sarah. And it's... it's scary. But it's also the most wonderful thing I’ve ever felt."

Your heart ached for him at the mention of Sarah, but you knew how important it was for Joel to express his feelings. You placed a gentle hand on his cheek, your thumb brushing against his stubble. "It's okay to be scared, Joel. But you're not alone in this. We’re in it together."

Joel nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You've given me something I thought I’d lost forever. Hope. A reason to keep fighting. And I want you to know that I’ll do everything I can to protect you, to make sure we have a future together."

You leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. "We’ll protect each other. And we’ll build that future, one day at a time."

He wrapped his arms around you tighter, holding you close as if trying to memorize the feeling of having you in his arms. "I promise you, I'll never let anything happen to you. You and Ellie mean everything to me."

You snuggled closer, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "And you mean everything to us, Joel. We're stronger together."

Joel sighed contentedly, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back. "Thank you for standing by me, for believing in me. I don't know what I’d do without you."

You smiled against his chest, feeling the warmth of his love envelop you. "You'll never have to find out, because I'm not going anywhere."

With that, you both drifted into a peaceful sleep, the worries of the world outside momentarily forgotten. In each other's arms, you found solace and strength, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead together.

Hours later, Joel woke up in the middle of the night, the room shrouded in darkness. He instinctively reached out for you, but his hand found only empty space. Panic surged through him, his heart pounding as he sat up, his eyes scanning the room.

"Baby, where are you?" he muttered, throwing the blankets aside as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He quickly pulled on his pants and a shirt, his movements hurried and frantic. The fear of losing you, so deeply ingrained in his mind, took hold as he rushed out of the bedroom.

He moved swiftly down the hallway, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Had something happened? Had someone taken you? The thoughts were unbearable. He reached the top of the stairs and bolted down them, nearly stumbling in his haste.

When he reached the bottom, he paused, his eyes darting around the living room. Relief washed over him as he saw you sitting on the couch, a cup of tea cradled in your hands. You looked up, startled by his sudden appearance.

"Joel, what’s wrong?" you asked, concern etching your features.

He let out a shaky breath, his heart still racing. "I woke up and you weren’t there," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I thought something had happened to you."

You set your tea down on the table and stood up, crossing the room to him. "I’m sorry," you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "I couldn’t sleep, so I came down to make some tea. I didn’t mean to scare you."

He pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if to reassure himself that you were really there. "It’s okay," he murmured into your hair. "I just...I can’t bear the thought of losing you."

You held him just as tightly, feeling the intensity of his emotions. "You won’t lose me, Joel. I promise."

He nodded, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. "I know. It’s just...sometimes the fear gets the better of me."

You cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing over his cheeks. "I understand," you said gently. "But we’re safe here. We have each other."

He sighed, the tension slowly easing from his body. "Yeah, we do."

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to the couch. "Sit with me for a while. The tea is still warm."

He followed you, sitting down beside you on the couch. You picked up your cup and handed it to him. "Here, takes a sip. It’ll help you relax."

He took the cup, his hands still slightly trembling. He sipped the tea, the warmth spreading through him, helping to calm his nerves. "Thanks," he said, his voice steadier.

You leaned against him, your head resting on his shoulder. "We’ll get through this, Joel. Together."

He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. "Yeah, we will."

The two of you sat there in the quiet of the night, the warmth of the tea and the comfort of each other’s presence soothing the fears that had momentarily overwhelmed him. In that moment, Joel felt a renewed sense of peace, knowing that as long as you were by his side, he could face anything the future held.

As the minutes passed, the tension in Joel's body melted away. He looked down at you, your eyes closed, content and calm. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I love you," he whispered, the words carrying all the weight of his heart.

"I love you too," you replied softly, without opening your eyes.

Joel took another sip of the tea, its warmth soothing him from the inside out. The night was still and quiet, a rare tranquility enveloping your home. He gazed around the room, taking in the modest, yet comforting surroundings. This place, this sanctuary in Jackson, could become more than just a shelter. A home.

You snuggled closer to him, and Joel felt a profound sense of gratitude. For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to truly believe in the possibility of a future filled with hope and love. The horrors of the past, the constant threats of the present, they all seemed a little more bearable with you by his side.

"We’ve been through so much," he said quietly, his fingers gently stroking your hair. "But sitting here with you, it makes it all worth it."

You opened your eyes and looked up at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. "We’ve found something real, Joel. Something worth fighting for. And no matter what comes our way, we’ll face it together."

Joel nodded, feeling the truth of your words settle deep within him. "Together," he echoed, his voice filled with conviction. "Always."

The two of you sat there in the stillness, the warmth of each other's presence a balm for your souls. Joel felt a sense of peace he hadn't known in years. With you, he had found a reason to hope, to believe in a better tomorrow.

As the night wore on, the exhaustion of the day began to catch up with him. You noticed his eyelids growing heavy and gently took the cup from his hands, setting it on the table. "Come on," you whispered, standing up and offering your hand. "Let’s get some rest."

Joel took your hand and allowed you to lead him back to the bedroom. The room was still bathed in the soft glow of the lamp, casting a warm light over the bed. You both slipped under the covers, and Joel pulled you close, your bodies fitting together perfectly.

With you in his arms, the fear and anxiety that had plagued him earlier faded away. The rhythm of your breathing, the steady beat of your heart against his chest, all served as a reminder of the love and strength you shared.

"Goodnight, Joel," you murmured, your voice filled with tenderness. "Goodnight," he replied, pressing a final kiss to your forehead.

As he closed his eyes, Joel felt a deep sense of contentment. No matter what the future held, he knew that with you by his side, he could face it all. Together, you had built something beautiful amidst the chaos, and that was something worth holding on to.

In the quiet darkness, with you in his arms, Joel finally allowed himself to drift into a peaceful sleep, dreaming of the life you would continue to build together, one filled with love, hope, and endless possibilities.

[thir10th]

hi love! i'd like to req emily smut, maybe a little more on the rough side if you'd be comfortable with that, where she gets jealous over reader and shows that through sex

if you want something less vague, it could be when reader brings emily lunch to her office and morgan keeps flirting with her, leading to some action in emily's office

I'll be doing these two together cause why not. I hope you don't mind! thanks for requesting, and I hope you liked it!!

jealousy - Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

summary: see the asks, it's a mix of both, it kind of took a turn, but i hope you still enjoy it! tw: jealousy, a very poor try at dom Emily, fingering, breast play?, idk tws are so hard once you've finished writing🥲, i think that's it lmk if i'm missing smth a/n: no idea if there's a way for me to link both asks here, someone lmk if there is

It's only 8.00 am when you enter the police station, two bodies in the past 12 hours required the early hours, everyone had to be focused, your mind had to be only in one place. However, this wasn't the case for all the people on that room.

The local police officer at the head of the case had some other things in his mind.

He starts by boldly checking you out, looks at you up and down, stopping and staring at the short tank top you were wearing, which makes you uncomfortable enough to cover yourself with your arms as much as you can.

The look your girlfriend sends to him doesn't go unnoticed to you, you start to believe she will set him on fire just with her stare, she places herself covering your body to shake his hand, which she gripes a bit too harder than the usual.

If you didn't know her any better, you would say she is jealous.

But there was just no way, right? Emily Prentiss doesn't get jealous, she's too confident for that, she has you so well wrapped around her finger, she doesn't need to be jealous. Right?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"so you think this... unsub like you call him, could be on a killing spree because of his mother?" the agent asks you, staring at the last picture you just sticked to the board with a puzzled look.

"we're positive, we've seen this modus before, it's a clear pattern" you explain

"ugh, so talking about mommy issues" you can't help the little snicker that scapes your lips.

He looks triumphant, fully believes he's got you under his spell. He couldn't be more wrong.

The familiar hand that slides behind you on your lower back makes you jump, Emily comes around you, standing closer than she usually does.

"hey, what were you talking about?" she asks, tilting her head.

"oh, nothing just the case" you say, unbothered.

"just the case huh?" you turn your head to see how she's staring at him, as he walks away from you both.

"Em? what is it?" you ask suspicoisly.

"nothing, i just don't understand, what could be so funny if you were just talking about the case..." she says sarcastically

"oh my god" you try to keep your voice down, but the excitement is still noticeable "oh my god, Emily, you're jealous!"

"what? What do you mean I'm jealous?" her voice a couple octaves higher, making it so obvious to you she's lying.

"that's not even a real answer!" you say.

"ugh..." she lets out one of those little sounds she always makes when she knows she's been caught, you think it's adorable.

"ok, so maybe... maybe I just... don't like the way he looks at my girlfriend, so sue me!" she tries defending herself, but you couldn't take it seriously for your life, you find it adorable, the slight pink tinting her cheeks, her reassuring hand still resting on your lower back.

"Emily, c'mon, you know i love you" you kiss her cheek, she kisses you back but still doesn't look so convinced.

The thing is, you could not be any less attracted to that man, there was no way in the world you would find his flirting any appealing, but the idea of teasing Emily sounds too exciting.

A little fun never hurt anyone, right?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"...hellooo, earth to Prentiss?"

Morgan waves a hand in front of Emily’s face and she’s brought back to reality.

"what?" she asks.

"i said, could you please put your frown away, you're scaring Reid" Spencer doesn't even hear the comment, too focused on the case file to even pay attention to the conversation that was taking place right beside him.

"my frown is just where it has to be, thank you" she says raising an eyebrow at that.

Derek gives a scoff, and Rossi chuckles at the whole stupidity of the situation. “If y/n can’t feel your stare burning a hole in her back, when she turns and sees you, she’s sure gonna think you're planning a murder.”

"i might just be" she mutters

"I think I know what's going on" Rossi intervenes "she isn't looking at y/n" he explains pointing at you "I think someone might be jealous"

You are only a few feet away, discussing your last findings with the detective, trying to laugh at every little thing he says, making sure Emily is watching.

"I'm not jealous" she defends "she is so clearly not interested, but what if she needs me to step in?" her attempt to make up a good excuse isn't good enough for any of them to buy it

"if that helps you, but all i can hear is jealousy" a big, cocky smile spread on Morgan's face, it's only making her angrier

"c'mon, or we will too have to face the consequences of the territorial monster of jealousy when it explodes" Rossi says, dragging Morgan away

"yeah, mark your territory" Morgan laughs, while Emily gives him the finger "go get her lover!"

It's your loud chuckle that draws the line for her. When you finally get away from the persistent officer, you turn to see Emily isn't there anymore, taking your phone you see 2 new message from her.

From Em💕: you better knock your shit off baby.

From Em💕: That's it. You're so in for it later.

That one makes your heart throb, it shortly makes you wonder if you had taken it too far. This was not gonna end well for you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Hotch decides to call it for the day, sending you off to start fresh in the morning, when a male voice you had heard enough already, calls your name

"Agent, I was wondering if you would be in for a drink with me?" he asks, eyeing you up and down yet again.

You are so sure you would find it just as disgusting if you weren't so gay, and so in love with your girlfriend.

"oh, sorry but no, actually, I-" a much more familiar female voice interrupts you "she's with me" Emily says.

He can't believe his eyes, Emily wraps her arm around your waist pulling you close to her body "hi babe" she says, kissing your lips, you return the kiss, a bit amused at her jealousy, but loving the possessiveness she was showing.

"Sorry, you were saying?" she asks, the man still open-mouthed, he can't bring himself to even speak.

"nothing... ugh, good night, agents" he dismisses you, and walks away defeated.

Emily and you head out of the bullpen, her arm still securely wrapped around your waist, she slides her hand on your back pocket, grabbing a handful of your ass possessively, making you chuckle.

"wanna talk about it?" you ask her innocently

"oh we are gonna be doing a bit more than talking you and me"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Emily doesn't even leave time for the door to close, and you have a split second to register your thoughts before she closes the door and walks over in one long stride and slams you into the wall.

Her mouth attacks yours in a hungry, desperate kiss, her tongue invading in a fight for dominance, that you just let her win, she is determined to have her way with you, and you aren't going to stop her.

She wasted no time in getting her hands on you, roughly rubbing her hands over your exposed skin. You, however, delicately placed your arms around her neck and when you both pulled apart to breathe.

"what's wrong, Em?" you ask her, breathlessly

"you know what? For starters, I didn't like the way he was looking at you" she starts, her breath warm against your skin, she lowers her head getting your neck, kissing it so sweetly you feel you could melt

she is quick to find your pulse point, mouth-opened kisses all over your skin, she nips all over your spot, which makes you moan

"but then imagine my surprise when i saw you, flirting back" her hand finds her way underneath your shirt, reaching for your breast, she finds no more resistance as you aren't wearing a bra, your other nipple peaking through your shirt in excitement.

She uses her free hand to grip your ass, you jump at the feeling whimpering on her mouth, her closeness only making you more excited.

"but you don't like him, do you, baby?" she asks, teasing you, she leaves a soft kiss on your lips

"he wouldn't stand a chance, we both know men aren't really your type" Emily says lowly, nipping at the tender spot behind your ear. 

She slips her leg between yours, a soft moan escapes your lips.

"so you just wanted to make me jealous" you're too deep in her dominance to even register anything, letting out soft whimpers every time her thumb brushes against the nub and grips the soft skin of your breast

"god... Emily" you let out, as Emily pulls your thighs apart with her hand.

"you know, baby, if you wanted me to fuck you, you could've just asked" she attacks your neck again, sucking hard enough to leave purple marks you couldn't care any less about now.

Emily presses her fingertips against the crotch of your jeans "your clothes. Take them off or I'll rip them off" she commands, taking a step back from you, leaving too little space to maneuver.

You knew better than to tease her when she was like this. A shiver of excitement runs through your back, and you comply.

You take your jeans off then, your shirt, quickly throwing them somewhere far on the room.

You move to kiss her again, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her in for a kiss, but she doesn't let you, instead she grabs you by your thighs, lifting you up.

You wrap your legs around her waist, she carries you to bed, laying you down just harshly enough to make you even more excited for whats to come.

"you are gonna do exactly what i ask you to tonigh, you know why, baby?" you hold your breath, you're not sure if she actually wants you to answer, but you try nonetheless "because I'm yours"

Your answer seems to satisfy her, as she begins kissing her way down your body, taking special care to nip at your collarbone and stomach to leave more marks than the one's on your neck.

The soft cloth of her shirt rubs against your skin and as if just now realising she was still dressed, you grab the hem of her shirt and help her take it off, throwing it somewhere in the vicinity of the room, like you had done with your own clothes.

And not a moment later, she is back to kissing your body, stopping suddenly when she reached the hemline of your underwear.

Her hand navigates down them, she dips low enough to collect your arousal on her fingertips before rubbing your clit forcefully. Your body reacts immediately, curling forward. "Em!" you moan

"what's wrong baby? Cat got your tongue? use your words, if you want me to stop the teasing, just say it"

"fuck...Em, please, I'm yours, please Emily, yours" you confirm, closing your eyes and letting your hips rock against her hand.

“Who are you this wet for?” Emily demands, nipping at your earlobe.

"just you" you whimper, desperation starting to build in your lower stomach

"that's right baby" the cocky smile on her lips makes your eyes roll. You obviously loved slow, romantic love making with your grilfriend, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't love this side of her just as much.

She continued to move her fingers inside of you and you met each thrust but you almost fell apart when she pressed her thumb against your clit and rubbed hard.

She uses her free hand to play with your breast, you let out a gasp when her tongue moves over it spurred you on and she begins to gently suck on it while her hand still caressed your other breast. 

You melt into the mattress at her words. "let go, c'mon baby, I got you" you cum on the spot, as she fucks you through your orgasm, she let's you ride your high.

Emily lays down beside you as you come down from the climax, she kisses your lips softly, lovingly this time, less urgent.

"you know i didn't mean any of it right? I was just playing with you, i love you. He didn't stand a chance" you try to clarify

"yes baby, i know, i love you too, i wasn't so harsh with you right?" she asks concerned. Sometimes you can't believe how Emily's mood changes so fast, from all dominating, incredibly sexy, to concerned, soft girlfriend.

"Em, it was perfect" you say, grabbing her face and pecking her lips "you are perfect" you kiss her again.

"well, good, because we're just getting started, i'm not sure you've learned your lesson yet" she grins.

"Like i said, I'm all yours, agent Prentiss" she sits to straddle you, and you grab her face to pull her in for another kiss.

Emily caresses your neck with her thumb, looking at the purple marks she had previously left "this will be hard to cover tomorrow"

"who says I'm covering them?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Sitting on your usual spot on the plane, you lay behind Emily's amr, resting your head on her shoulder as she reads.

You aren't oblivious of the look on Morgan's face, right in front of you.

The shirt you chose had your neck and cleavage all on display, small and big purple marks cover your skin.

He stares bluntly at you, a cheeky smile covering his face "So y/n, looks like you and Prentiss had yourselves a good night. Care to share?"

Emily gives him the finger.

"in your dreams" you say.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

wow! a lot longer than i expected it to be! finishing this one gave me a headache so please like and reblog if you liked it, and as always feedback is greatly appreciated! <333 reqs still open as always!

[oval3000]

Chapter 3

Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse Reader

Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

(This might suck idk. I don't know German so it's all Google translate)

-------------------------------------------------------

He hasn't left his room for a month. They kept him in their with the straitjacket on. His meals are just vitamins that he has to swallow. You would go in to check up on him, but new orders from the administrator's to not go near at all, so you pass by his room. You would peak through the little window and see him laying on his back with little no to motion on his arms or body entirely. His psychiatrist, Dr. Smith is the only that goes in there. They have sessions in his room instead of the usual spot they have it in.

She was pissed at everyone, specifically you. You are her punching bag, even though it was Ben's fault. "Why hasn't he been given his meds!" She yelled at you.

"We are not allowed to go i-" you tried to explain your her, but she could care less.

"You are his nurse right! Your job is to give him his meds! How did you graduate when you can't even do that!" She yelled at you.

You plead for her to listen to you "I'm sorry, Dr. Smith. I can't it's Mr. Millers orders. No one can go in except you because you are his psychiatrist."

So she strolled her way to the administrator's office.

Ignoring his assistant from telling her that she can't go in. Slaming the door open to see him sitting on his chair, writing whatever cral he writes on paper.

"Sarah calm down!"

"Do you have any idea how dangerous he is, and you want me to deal with him alone! On top of that the lack of guards is making my job harder!" Dr. Smith argued with a hand on her hips and her finger pointing towards Ben.

"Do you remeber when you wanted a nurse to look after him." She rolled her eyes. Yes, you, the nurse. "Do you have any idea how much money is going towards her. Triple the pay for looking after him."

Her hands swing in motion, showing her frustration. "She can't even do her fucking job Ben!"

"If she's alive, then she's doing her job well. What's making this hard, is you barging into my office and telling me what to do when you are the one demanding this." He stood up from his chair, fixing his navy tie. "We're loosing staff. People don't want to go near him. Gabriel is threatening to sue the company. Gaurds are quiting left and right so sorry that there aren't enough staff attending your needs."

She crossed her arms with an annoying sigh leaving her lips tinted with red lipstick. "Then hire more people, I don't see the problem?"

"Did you not hear what I said" he walked towards her, standing toe to toe to her. "Majority of our budget is going towards (Y/n). She's been here for two months now, lasting longer than any other nurses. We can't afford another hire with the same pay to deal with König. Besides he hasn't actually killed anyone in those two months, I'll take that than dealing with someone who has a broken jaw from a simple punch."

"Then ask for more money." She scuffed like if it was a joke she said.

He laughed at her face, "Do you think the government cares to fund more for this place, I already have the staff on my ass for new medical supplies, do you think they are gonna hand me the budget to hire someone with triple pay just because you are scared."

"Then fire (y/n) and hire a new guard, maybe someone with military experience."

"Why would I do that. You came into my office, spreaded your legs cause you were so desperate for a nurse and now you want me to fire her. She hasn't done anything in particularly wrong."

"She doesn't follow orders!"

"She does, you just make it difficult." He came in defense.

"Wasn't she trying to stop you from putting him into a straitjacket?" She smirked while her arms crossed at her chest.

"Yes, and she was right. Putting him in a straitjacket does nothing. He was fine it's just that..." he closed his eyes taking deep breath.

"Just what?" She came closer to him, placing her hand on his shoulder, gently caressing it.

He turned his head to her, he used to lovy dovey with her seduction, but now it's more annoyance. "Eli, the other guard, came to my office the other day and told me that Gabriel was provoking König."

She rolled her eyes, looking around his office. Paying attention to the paintings hanged up on the wall and the light objects he has on his desk. "Like what? Making fun of him? We all make fun the people here what else is new?"

"I don't know the full details, but that's what he told me." He sat a bit on his desk.

"Why does that matter?" She shook her head without a single thought in her brain.

"Gabriel is threatening to sue us. If we fight the legal action, we'll have to defend König. König, just like any other patient represent us, our care. If they find out that Gabriel was the one that caused this, making König the victim it doesn't look good after we placed him in the straitjacket. Like we silencing him out. It will ruin our reputation, we'll all loose our jobs and you fucked your way up here for nothing."

"But he harmed a worker, beside murdered multiple people." She let out a little chuckle, placing her hand on his chest.

He didn't give in, instead, he gave her a stare. "He's ex- military and as for you being his psychiatrist, you'll have to speak on behalf of him. Meaning that people will find out about you, how you never studied to become a doctor you fucked every professor you had to get your degree."

"What are you saying, Ben." Her smile dropped.

"I won't fire (Y/n). She stood up for König, making us look like we care about our patients. As for Gabriel, all he's asking is for some 20,000 thousand dollars, which we can easily give him worth than standing infront of the judge. Which means that we can't afford new guards for you. Besides they're taking off his straitjacket today, so stop being so scared and do your dam job."

"I still think you should fire, (Y/n) atleast." She hummed, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"I'm not doing that. Beside she's the only staff that doesn't barge in here demanding stuff. She nice and sweet...." he looked down to the side, " and...young and beautiful. "

She let go of his waist, clenching her jaw. Yes, you being so beautiful. "So what? You want to fuck her? Is that it. Never head young pussy before?"

"You should leave, I have work to do and so do you. This discussion is over." He walked to his desk, sitting down on his chair, unbutton his last few buttons from his dark, navy, blazer.

She stormed off his office, angrly stomping on the white tile floors with her heels creating a louder noise.

You heard the word going around that their taking of his straitjacket, so you quickly gathered what you need to check him up. You saw as the guards took off. He let out a big stretched, flexing more of his muscles. It caused a scare to the guards like a lion letting out a roar.

You walked up to and saw more of his face. He stared at you.

He missed you. He never thought he would miss you. During that month of not seeing you was a time he contemplated about you. Are you made for him or not. He will shut his eyes and images of you will pop up. You smiling at him. Taking good care of him. Watching you squirm under him as you take his full length cock inside your pussy. He'll treat you with respect as long as you do what he says that's all. Seeing your belly swell up with his baby. Can't wait to fuck your tits filled with milk. Can't wait to impregnate you with multiple of his children, making one big happy family. How protective he'll be for his kids, for you. To stand up to the bullies, to show them not to be scared of anything. To hold them if they cry.

He should kill you for making him react this way. He should just kill you. You are just another nurse thinking they have control over him. He use to give orders to people, being the colonel and all, he got the respect he fought for, why does he feel weak around you. You are so sweet and joyful to him. If he was back in the field and saw you, would he kill you. Or maybe fuck you. Maybe that's it. He hasn't done it in so long, so long he hasn't touch a women. He should've just fucked one of the other nurses. Yes, maybe he should do that. Fuck a nurse, just to see. I mean what's the harm in that.

"Aah...yes. right there ngh.... yes...oh fuck that feels good."

The sound of König's footsteps were low that they couldn't hear over the sound of skin slapping against eachother. Watching a men fucking his girlfriend on his bed.

"Does your boyfriend fuck you like this?" Slaming her ass back and forth on his cock.

"Ah....a-aah....he-..he could barley...make me- fuck!..mmgh....wet." She grip the bedsheets hard while he kept pounding her.

No. No. He can't. Not you. He can't. He can't betray you like they did. He can't imagine the face you'll make if you know he fucked another girl. No he should be pure to you. You should be the only one he touches.

He needs you. Okay, it's done. He'll make you his and you'll love him. You'll love him and care for him. Rather you like him or not it's done.

You wrapped the cuff around his bicep and squeeze the bulb reading the numbers on the circle, writing it down. Doing the usual things you have studied for. As you were checking his heartbeat, he reached up which caused you to flinch a bit. His index finger, gently, caressing your cheek. Your back was turned to the guards, making it hard them to see what's going. You stared at him as he touched you with such charisma. His thumb reaching to your chin, hovering over your lips. He placed the tip of his thumb on your bottom lip, gently pulling it out a bit.

You shouldn't have this feeling at the pit of your stomach. You couldn't tell of you didn't smack his hand away because you are scared or because you enjoy it. You never had this much attention, not like this.

"I don't have time to argue with you (Y/n)! Go to your room!" The little girl tuged at her moms shirt.

"Where's daddy?" She felt tears running down her face as her mother poured more wine into her glass, already finishing up the fresh new bottle.

"(Y/n)! Seriously go to room! You are such a headache! Why couldn't your father take you with him! Nauseating!" She dranked the entire glass, slamming the cup on the table.

"Where's daddy?" She said one last time not letting go of her blanket. The same blanket her father got her when she told him she was cold.

"HE LEFT! HE LEFT US (Y/N)! LEFT US FOR THAT BITCH! AND NOW I'M STUCK HERE WITH YOU. HE RUINED MY LIFE. I COULD'VE DONE SOOOO MANY THINGS! But no! I'm stuck to take care of a brat!"

He palmed your cheek, feeling your warmth. He went in closer to you. You could feel his hot breath, quicken as he got closer to your lips.

You pulled back, "I shouldn't- we shouldn't. I mean." You whispered to him.

"Mein liebling (my darling)." He whispered to you. The first time he spoke to you. You couldn't understand him, but he spoke to you. "Du bist mein (you are mine)." He pulled you closer to him, he didn't care if the guards were staring, if anything, he enjoys it. To show everyone that he is yours to touch. "Mein schatz (my sweetheart)," his lips were hovering yours, you felt a little tingle at how close he was.

You know this shouldn't happen. You turned your away from his. You walked back, feeling his grasp letting go. He stared at you witch a smile on his face. You saw the smile he gave you.

When your shift ended and went back to your apartment, the thoughts of what happened lingered into your mind.

That night, you couldn't sleep. He was in your dreams. What if you never pulled way. Were you really going to kiss him. You glazed over the parts where he touched you.

You searched the words he said to you to translate it. Sweetheart, darling, mine.

You felt the butterflies in your stomach again. You never felt so complicated before.

Having a crush on a patient.

You have a crush on König.

[cyberseong]

distraction.

pairings: yunho x f!reader

genre: smut, college setting, fwb(?).

warnings/topics: there isn’t much plot at all, sub!yunho, perv yunho too just bc, praise kink, overstimulation, pussy eating, thigh riding.

a/n: i haven’t posted in so long oops 😭 this fic isn’t as long as usual but hopefully i’ll be able to post again soon with a longer one. enjoy! notes are appreciated ofccc.

wc: 0.8k

you and yunho were surely just friends; which is exactly why he got so flustered when you called him out for the intense stare he had aimed at your frame. the conversation started with an accusatory tone, with yunho struggling to explain himself with his words. the tense atmosphere didn’t last long before you began to realize how the hostile tone in your voice made his ears tint with a darker red than ever before, or the small whimper that left his lips as soon you referred to him as a ‘perv’. only then did you notice the print of his erection that bulged against his sweatpants. so that’s what yunho was into.

that was how you ended up with your back against the headboard of your bed, your shorts long gone and disregarded to the floor, with yunho’s face buried in between your legs, tongue caressing your folds. he had promised he wouldn’t distract you from your studying, which is why you still sat there, textbook being held up by your trembling legs as you continued to annotate and highlight different phrases and important words that you may need to remember for tomorrow. unfortunately, studying while yunho gave slow kitten licks to your clit was just as hard as anyone would imagine it to be; you slammed the textbook closed, throwing that and your pen somewhere off to the side. ‘i’ll just study harder later,’ you thought to yourself as your fingers intertwined with the strands of yunho’s pitch black hair.

“f-fuck, yunho, you’re going way too slow, c-can’t take it,” you moaned, subconsciously pushing his face closer to your folds. It caused the rims of his glasses to slip a little farther down the bridge of his nose, but he couldn’t do anything to push them back up for now— which meant you would just have to deal with the cold material brushing against your skin every now and then until he was done. yunho was so overstimulated just by the feeling of you against his lips and tongue; you loved how much he got off from solely pleasuring you. his hips repeatedly bucked against the mattress once he felt his release getting closer, and you could feel the movements of his mouth get sloppier than before.

you weren’t much closer than yunho, though– with a string of profanities and breathy moans, you came without much of a warning onto yunho’s face; however, he didn’t mind in the slightest, with his tongue lapping up as much of your liquids as he possibly could. when he lifted his face from between your legs, the sight in front of you was just sinful; the fluids dripped down from his lips and down his chin as he panted, completely out of breath. his eyes were glossed with a hazy look on them, and you just knew he was far gone.

“yun,” you called out, straightening your legs out and then patting your thigh, signalling for him to use it to ride out his orgasm. he let out a small hum of compliance. yunho moved to straddle your thigh, immediately rutting against it with the most desperate look you’d ever seen painted on his face. the repeated whimpers that erupted from his throat were surely going to be the death of you. it didn’t help your case in the slightest when he looked up at you with pleading eyes, whining, “y/n, p-please, can i cum now? i c-can’t,”

your eyes widened slightly at the fact that he was asking for your permission; everything you’d found out about him within the last hour were things you never would’ve begun to associate with the male; nonetheless, you couldn’t deny that his submissive side only made him more attractive than he was— if that was even possible.

“yes, yunho, you’ve been so good for me baby, cum for me, hm?” your praise only made a high-pitched moan leave yunho’s lips as he came undone in your lap. he convulsed from the overstimulation for a few seconds, before he moved to lay down beside you. the two of you sat in a comfortable silence as you took a moment to regain composure, all whilst maintaining strong but loving eye contact.

yunho stifled a laugh, his cheeks puffing out slightly with the action.

“well, so much for studying, i guess.”

[heartpiratedrabbles]

Ignored

Prompt: After feeling ignored by Marco you decide to try and rile him up.

NSFW

Marco X Fem Reader

Marco had been working overtime since a battle had rendered more than a few crewmates injured. Tate was able to take care of most of them with the other nurses but Marco still had to do all the paperwork for said injuries and supplies used. He was also behind on creating a list for restocking, for the next time the Moby Dick docked.

You understood of course, he’s a busy man being the First Division Commander and a Doctor. But it had been days since he has given you any attention. He’d even forget to eat if you didn’t bring him food, and he’d just nod a small thank you while still looking at his work. Try as you might he’d ignore you and tell you he’s almost done, despite still having a hefty stack to complete.

You sighed thinking about your predicament, leaning against the railing of the ship. “What’s up Y/N?” Izou asked while coming up behind you.

You groan not even glancing at him while hanging your head lower, “Marco’s been ignoring me~” Izou lets out a small chuckle before sitting against the railing next to you. “I know he’s busy, but he’s barely even spared me a glance this entire week!”

“Well maybe, you need to catch his attention in a different way…” Izou hints at what he means by tugging on your shirt.

“Doesn’t work. He just blinked at me telling me he was busy last time I undressed in front of him,” The method would work every now and then, but as of right now it seemed as though Marco was unfazed by everything.

“That’s not what I meant Y/N~” Izou smiles before leaning in close to explain.

~~~

         It had taken a bit of convincing for Tate to give you the nurses uniform, but even she had to admit that the first commander had been working too hard recently. She’d given you the stack of papers Marco had to go over for the day, that normally an actual nurse would take to him and sent you on your way. She made some jabbing remarks about keeping the reports neat as you left.

         But now that you were in front of his door you were nervous. You didn’t mind the nurses dress on others, but you, being used to shorts, thought it a little too high for your taste. You tug the dress down a little more, noticing how your cleavage became all the more evident when you did so and groaned slightly.

You finally build up the courage to knock on the door, and wait for a response. You hear Marco call out to come in and slowly open the door, poking your head in a bit. Marco was sitting at his desk just as expected, his glasses on as his read the reports in front of him and you suddenly thought this was a bad idea. Sure, you had disturbed him in the past successfully, but looking at his furrowed eyebrows as he wrote something down made you think maybe now wasn’t the best time. Even just wearing the nurses attire made you feel a bit embarrassed, a light tint forming on your cheeks as you step all the way into the room. He mutters for you to place to documents on the left, not even glancing up.

The noise of you closing the door behind you finally brought his attention away from his work, glancing up. He makes eye contact with you before you see him snake his eyes down your body, taking in the uniform. He puts his pen down and leans back in his chair with an amused smirk on his face, “Oh? I don’t remember a new nurse being added, yoi~”

You blush harder, you hadn’t expected his entire attention to be on you from the get go. You gulp before getting the courage to continue, “Well the transfer just happened today~” You saunter over to his desk, making sure he can see your cleavage as you lean over his desk, placing the papers on his to-do stack, “This is where you wanted them. Right, sir?” You looking up at him, pushing your boobs up a little bit.

He glances at your face before glancing back down, “I’m sure I can do them soon enough here.” You see him lick his lips before glancing back up to you. “But alas it will still take time before I touch any of them.” You small smile falters at his words. He starts to grab his pen again and you remember what Izou told you.

You grab his hand and your other goes under his chin to make him face you and you lean in closer, staring at his lips. “I’m sorry Doctor, but it may be time for a break” You glance up at his eyes before quickly adding, “Tate’s orders.” Smiling a bit as you see his eyes fill with desire. You lean in closer finally kissing Marco for the first time in almost a week and he happily welcomes the intrusion.

You feel one of his hands rake his hand through your hair, grabbing and pulling after a while. He smiles at you, “That was a nice break, but now I have to continue.”

You gawk at his words, “You workaholic!” You’re frustrated, angry even, at this mans resolve to keep working over even just spending 5 minutes with you, he seems rather amused at your outburst, “Here I am, trying to do anything to get you to pay attention to me! And you’re just ignoring it!” You straighten your back, fully standing up now, “I even convinced Tate to give me these clothes and you’re only interest is in work!” You gesture down at your body before turning around embarrassed. You hear a small chuckle behind you but refuse to look, “You think this is funny but you haven’t even come out of your room all week!” You cross your arms staring at the floor in front of the door.

What you weren’t expecting was arms grabbing hold of you before turning you around and slamming you against the wall, hands quickly going to hold up your thighs so that you are no longer standing on your own. Marco pressed his body up against you and you can feel how hard he is through his trousers. “Well, my love, maybe I’ve been holding back so that I can make an absolute mess of you when I’m done,” He whispers into your ear before nipping your earlobe making you moan, you grind your hips towards his “But it seems that someone, is a little impatient.”

You look at him innocently as you wrap your arms around his neck, “I have absolutely no idea what you mean Sir,” smiling as you attempt to pull him closer to your lips.

To your shock however he doesn’t allow you too, instead leaning back even more with what you can only explain as a devious smirk. He glances back at his work at your heart sinks, “I can’t stop now, I’m almost caught up,” He turns back to you, “But I think little miss Y/N needs a small punishment from pulling me away for so long.” And he lets your legs down one by one.

You watch as he goes back to his desk sitting down, before looking up at you and your confused faced. He stays silent as he pats his lap and you slowly walk towards him. As you get closer he widens his legs before grabbing your hip with one hand and snaking his hand up your thigh with the other. You look down at him, only imagining what your punishment could before he glances up at you, “You’re not wearing panties. Are you Y/N?” And you nod in embarrassment, realizing just now how wet you had become.

He retracks both his hands from you, and you watch as he pulls out his cock. You stare at how it stands tall, a slight amount of precum accumulating at the tip and lick your lips. He pats his lap again and you take the hint to straddle his legs, his tip slightly caressing your entrance. You place your hands on his shoulders as you moan, sinking down a little bit. Finally feeling even, the slightest amount of relief, you rock your hips up and down until his full length is inside of you.

You don’t notice his devious smirk as he watches you get use to him, your head leaning back slightly at how full you feel. When your finally ready you start to bounce, but just as quickly as you started you felt hands on your hips, stopping you. “Uh, uh, uh, Y/N” Marco leans closer to you, “This, is a punishment”

“Marco please” You plead with him, trying to grind but he holds you firm. He ignores your begging as he readjusts his chair to get closer to the desk.

 He wraps his arms around your waist, placing a hand on your back to push you against his chest and rubbing it gently, “Y/N, I have to finish this stack at the very least.”

You bury your head into the nook of his shoulder pouting. “What am I supposed to do then Marco?” You cry as trying and failing at grinding into him. His length feels great in you but you still want more, “I just want you. Please Marco, Please.” You desperately try to convince the man inside you to fulfill your wishes as you kiss at his neck.

“You’re punishment yoi.” He tightens his grip on you slightly and your breath hitches, hoping for the best, “Is to sit there quietly, until I finish this stack.” And without even waiting for a response, he leans forward just enough to look at his papers, picking up his pen to ignore you.

You groan into his neck thinking about your situation. The dress hiking up ever so slightly, you feel the tights digging into your thighs, and you breast pushed up against Marco’s chest, nipples rubbing against the smooth fabric. But the most important thing is just how good it feels to have Marco inside you. With the position the two of you are in you know that there’s another inch that could go in and trying to grind down into it, only to be met with a hard slap to your ass.

You gasp out at the sudden pain before quieting yourself. Your arms tightly hugging onto Marco as you try to stop thinking about the pressure inside of you. Your thought’s keeping wandering to riding him or him slamming into you, even the thought of him standing up and fucking into you as he walks to the bed that’s just across the room.

You tighten around him and hear him groan. You smile at his reaction and start to suck on his neck. At this Marco slaps your ass again, “Yoi. I told you to sit quietly. That also means not distracting me.” His voice is low but firm and you let out a small whine, nuzzling into him, before settling down again.

Minutes go by and you can’t help yourself again. It’s too much. How can he expect you to sit still when he’s inside you? You feel his cock throb every now and then and it’s driving you insane. You readjust your legs, in doing so also allowing some friction start but you notice Marco not caring about it. Slyly you start to adjust ever so often, savoring every time his dick brushes deeper inside you with the slight movement.

After a few too many movements you hear papers moving and your heart skips a beat at the thought of him finally being finished, you whip your head around but slump over slightly in disbelief as he places more papers in the stack that was almost completed, “Don’t think I didn’t realize what you were doing Y/N.” He whispers into your ear before giving you another hard spank making you bend over, “You’re not taking this punishment very seriously Yoi,” Another spank as you moan, arching you back into the sting as he grips your ass, thrusting harshly into you, “Is this what you want?” You don’t answer, only moaning in pleasure as his relentless thrusts brush against your cervix. You feel his hand grip your hair again, harshly pulling your head back, forcing you to make eye contact with the strangely calm face compared to what he’s doing, “Answer me Yoi.”

Your mouth hanging open and tears filling your eyes you attempt to nod your head and feel him tighten his hold on your hair, “Y-yes. Marco this is what I want,” You moan out but the second you answer he stops his movement making you grind down for more.

The sinister looking in his eyes tells you he’s not going to continue and he pushes you back against his chest, “Then stay still like a good little girl. Every time you distract me I’m adding more to the stack.”

You let out a cry at the absurd demand, “Marco, Please.” With another hard spank and a couple of papers shuffling makes you realize he’s serious and stop immediately from anymore transgressions, letting out one last whimper before settling back down into the crook of his neck.

What feels like hours, but is likely just minutes go by, and you start to feel comfort in the dick buried deep inside of you. You relax a bit and Marco gently rubs the small of your back muttering a good girl that makes you swoon. You adjust slightly to get more comfortable and Marco seems to understand that you aren’t doing it out of pleasure this time. Every now and then you feel a slight thrust into you with a question on if you’re still awake and you just hum in response, moaning slightly at the movements inside you.  

After a couple more papers down Marco leans back sighing, “I’m almost done baby girl, just a few more.” He holds your hips and you lean back to be able to look at his face, deciding to take a small chance you rotate your hips, grinding deeper into you and he lets out a small groan as his head falls back, “You sure do know how to motivate me…” He leans in, a hand on the back of your head to lead you to his lips for a passionate but quick kiss before he resumes his works.

You rock your hips a bit and you hear Marco swear under his breath before he pushes your head back into his shoulder, “Just a couple more and I’m done.” You can hear the desperation even through his calm and collected tone.

Just as Marco was grabbing the second to last report from the stack you both hear a knock on his door. You tense up and start to get off him but Marco stops you, pushing you back down as you whimper out, “Just stay still and don’t make a noise.” He smirks and you can’t help but to listen to him as he calls out to the person to come in. Deciding to bury your face once again, to not let the person see how embarrassed you were.

“Hey Marco, have you seen Y/N-“ Izou stops as he fully walks into the room, seeing you presumably just sitting on Marcos lap. The desk providing just enough cover to hide how you’re dress was hiked up above your ass now, every small movement letting it inch higher.

“She fell asleep a while ago Yoi,” Marco answers nonchalantly but he decides to play by wrapping an arm around you while he slowly thrust into you, reaching deeper than he had anytime prior. You try to hold back your moan but realize quickly it’ll be of no use and decide to bite Marco’s neck to suppress the urge.

“Are you telling me.” Izou sputters out, slight anger in his voice, “That Y/N came here. Dressed like a nurse. And you didn’t do anything?” The commanders were always open about their affairs so it didn’t shock you to hear such a question but it still made you blush, not that anyone could see. “Marco you have to start treating her better! I know you’re busy but show here some attention!” Izou was scolding Marco, not knowing how the grip around your waist tightened, or how Marco rocked his hips painfully slow to drive you mad.

You had been waiting for so long for this, but you couldn’t show Izou this side of you/ Marco seemed to love how to you silently shudder from his movements, and how you had slowly bit his neck harder and harder to suppress your moans. At this point you could taste a slight tinge of blood, feeling slightly guilty you loosen your grip only for Marco to thrust quickly into you making you bite down harder.

“Don’t you dare get up,” Izou warned Marco, seemingly unaware of what the movement was actually for, “If Y/N just fell asleep she should rest peacefully,” He turns to head back towards the door, “I didn’t actually expect her to dress up for you. But if she’s willing to go this far for you Marco, even waiting for your workaholic ass, you should keep her.”

“Oh don’t worry about that Izou, I’ll make sure she knows how much I love her soon,” The words coming out of his mouth had you blush but you soon became to distracted to listen as Marco’s other hand grips your thigh, pulling your leg further apart as he thrusts again. You can feel him talking but can’t quite catch what he says.

“That just means I can go clothes shopping! Don’t think you can avoid it, Marco!” Izou exclaims before leaving, muttering something about having to prepare well.

As the door shuts you release Marco’s neck from your teeth, leaning back to be able to look at the man in front of you. “You did so good love,” Marco praises you and you see small blue flames come from his deep bite mark, “Why don’t we continue this on the bed?”

[kp-alice]

Romantic greed (the best kind). | sub!Yeosang smut

Word count: 1 191

Warnings: pegging, sub!yeosang x condescending!dom!reader (they're both into it, it's okay), the slightest bit of what could be considered a corruption kink (nothing creepy, though, obv), begging, slightly fluffy during some parts.

A/N: So, uh... this fic was not planned at all, lol. I'm currently working on a few longer fics which aren't anywhere near finished, but today I had the displeasure of listening to two insanely racist, homophobic and just generally ignorant people talking loudly on the train for two hours straight, and somehow my annoyance turned into this. Don't ask me how, the frustration just made me want to fuck a man, okay,?? Yeah, that's pretty much it. Hope you enjoy!!

A/N 2: Btw, this is part of a small event I did on both this blog and my other, more sfw one, @seohwang! Go check it out if you're interested in some Jongho fluff ♥

The bed rocked back and forth with your powerful thrusts, the bed frame grazing against the wall every now and then. Accompanying the squeaking of the cheap wood were Yeosang's breathy moans, sounding like absolute heaven to your ears. He was clutching the pillow in front of him as tightly as he could, occasionally burying his face into it to muffle any wanton whimpers. His back was arched just the way you liked it, showcasing his beautiful broad back with muscle rippling all over. You would have taken a picture if you could, the scene was so pretty. Oh well. For now, all you could do was burn the image in front of you into your memory and grip his hips even tighter.

Yeosang keened as you leaned over his back to whisper into his ear, the change in angle hitting all the right spots in him.

"Roll over for me, handsome."

He bit his lip at your words, feeling the blush already tinting his cheeks get even deeper. He'd never admit it, but he loved it when you treated him like eye candy. Just a little boy toy for you to indulge in. Not that you needed him to admit anything, his reactions to the pet names you'd throw his way were more than enough.

Feeling you pull out of him, Yeosang shuddered, forcing his limbs to cooperate. With weak arms and legs, he flipped over, instinctively spreading his legs for you to slot your body between them. And when you did so, he couldn't help but let out a calm, content sigh. The sight of you like this, leaned over his sluggish yet excited body with your equally as tired but aroused one, buzzing with love and eagerness to make the both of you feel as good as possible, was nothing short of breath-taking. He didn't care about what society deemed the right, conventional way of lovemaking. Because in this moment, and even afterwards as he'd likely be recalling this over and over in his head, everything just felt so right. He was yours and you were his, inside and out.

His hazy thoughts of adoration were halted, however, as he felt something prod at him again. His excitement quickly turned to confusion, though, as he realized it wasn't your strap this time. Though initially similar in shape, he noticed it was much thinner yet warmer. Looking down, he caught a glimpse of your two fingers just as they began slipping inside of him.

Yeosang let out a teary, malcontent whine, feeling the slowly building orgasm in him stagnate. "Wait, no! I want- I need your cock in me, please!" he begged, grinding down on your hand to chase after the dwindling pleasure. "I was getting so close, please please please, I need more than this!"

Your core ached hearing him beg, and his thrusts against your palm certainly weren't helping. Despite his hole already being prepped and fucked loose, you could still feel every clench of him around your fingers, only adding to your unending arousal. Leaning over him even more, you looked down at him in faux remorse, contrasting the way your hand started pushing even harder into him. "But I want to feel you some more, hun," you explained with a fake, patronizing pout, "the strap is fun and all, but I can't feel you squeezing me with it nearly as much as I can like this. I need to know I'm making my boy feel good, right?"

Yeosang whimpered at your explanation, knowing you weren't going to budge until he'd give in to your game. With one hand clutching the pillow under his head again, he brought the other down to his twitching, neglected cock. He tentatively wrapped his fingers around it, looking up to gauge your reaction. When you didn't say anything, he slowly began stroking himself, huffing a strained breath from finally getting at least a fraction of the pleasure he so craved.

But even then, his hand and your fingers curling inside of him just weren't enough.

"Y/N, please," he began again, suppressing all shame churning his stomach as he conceded at last. "Please, I really- fuck! I need it! Please fuck me again, I promise you can use your fingers on me later but I-" a suppressed cry slipped past his lips and his hips bucked up as you hit his prostate dead-on, "I really need to cum right now."

The moment he saw your smirk, he knew he was done for.

"Aww, you need to cum?" You asked condescendingly, to which he nodded abashedly. "And my fingers just aren't doing it anymore, are they? You need something more, huh," you adjusted your hand, fingers reaching just a little deeper now, "something bigger," scissoring the two digits, you felt Yeosang shiver again, "my cock."

Closing his eyes and clenching his jaw, he nodded vehemently, already getting excited again just at the thought of it. You chuckled at his response, unable to hide your genuine, giddy smile. Luckily, Yeosang couldn't see your facade breaking, too busy willing the blazing hot blush off his face and chest.

"I've really spoiled you, haven't I?" You asked rhetorically, curling your fingers inside of him a few more times before finally sliding out. "You used to get all sensitive and shy whenever you'd ask me to finger you, and look at you now."

Yeosang let out a small sniffle at your words, which quickly turned to a gasp as he finally felt the blunt tip of your strap press up against his clenching hole again.

"Now you're begging me to fuck you with my bigger strap because not even the other one can satisfy you anymore."

Yeosang whimpered as you finally slid back home, hands flying up and around your neck to hold on for dear life as you quickly returned to your original, rough pace.

Noticing he was too distracted by you inside of him to keep stroking himself, you decided to help him out with your free hand, the other holding tightly onto his hip.

Yeosang cried out weakly at the added stimulation, brain starting to fog over from the onslaught of pleasure. His nails dug into your back as you jostled him up on the bed with your thrusts, leaving pretty marks he knew you both would be marveling at in the mirror later.

"...but guess what, Sangie," you suddenly spoke up again, bringing your boyfriend out of his thoughts just as his mind was starting to get a little too hazy.

Taking a few shallow breaths, he dared his voice to answer, "w-what?"

Yeosang squealed the moment you fully leaned over him, resting your chest against his as you drove your strap right into his g-spot. His eyes squeezed shut at the electrifying feeling and he buried his face into your neck to breathe you in while his legs wrapped around your torso. His hands were still clutching onto you tightly, the tremble in them worsening the closer he got to his long-awaited orgasm of the night.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

Thank you so much for reading! And remember, feedback is always appreciated!! <3

[nosugarallspice]

Don’t judge me please but can I get something with a daddy kink and Hayden Christensen please 🫣🫣 maybe while having sex, reader accidentally calls him daddy (the relationship is still pretty new) and he kinda stops for a second and then it just sparks something in him?? this man makes me absolutely feral I’m sorry 😭

Girl I’m judging you for not requesting him sooner!! // I def felt this! Hayden just hits so different I can’t explain it. I’d devour that 🤭

Minors DNI!!!

Word Count: 307

~~

The room was dim, the only thing bringing in light were the candles you had lit. The headboard lightly slammed against the wall as Hayden’s thrust became faster.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, your bare chest pressed against his.

“You’re doing so good baby, taking my cock so well.” Hayden groaned into your ear, pressing kisses along your neck.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down, a smile on your face when he said such filthy words to you. You still weren’t used to this- Hayden being extremely filthy with you, from the things he did in bed, to the words he spoke to you.

“You like this, don’t you?.” His cock pushing deeper inside you, hitting your most sensitive spot causing your legs to shake as whimpers escaped your lips. “You love being fucked like a whore, hm?”

You nodded, your head thrown back against the pillow, nails digging deep into the flesh on his back. “Yes, oh fuck- yes.”

“You fuck me so good… so, so good daddy.” You whimpered. You were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t realize what you had said until Hayden stopped. His eyes staring deep into yours, “did I hear you correctly?”

Your cheeks tinted a light red shade as you nodded your head, trying your hardest not to smile.

“That sounded so sexy, especially coming from you.” He flipped you over; your face now buried into the pillows as his cock slammed back into you. His thrust were even rougher, more harder.

Your pussy clenched around his cock, your hands gripping the sheets for dear life, he was fucking you too good. His hand made its way up your back, gripping your hair, tugging your head up.

“You’re gonna make me cum!” You gasped, your walls tightened around him.

His own thrusts growing sloppier by the second as his own release approached.

“Cum for me, cum for daddy.”

[bbrissonn]

𝐥𝐮𝐥𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 - 𝐥𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

in which you and luke become a couple

warnings: not proofread

disclaimer: english is not my first language so excuse any mistakes. also, this is a work of fictions, this doesn't reflect how these boys act in real life :)

pairing: luke hughes x zegras!reader

wc: 1.4k

previous masterlist next

-DECEMBER 14 '22-

“Luke!” You called out, walking into the sophomore house, only to be met with silence. The boy had texted you that morning, asking if you were free to stop by his house after your last class. So here you were, standing in the empty and quiet home, something you didn’t know was possible in any hockey house. You made your way trough the place and up the stairs to his room, calling out his name over and over again, but an answer never came. 

“Luke!” You said again, this time a loud bang could be heard coming from the boy’s room, making your eyes grow wide. “Are you okay?” You asked, about to open the door to his bedroom, only for his voice to stop you. 

“Don’t come him! Just… gimme a minute!” He yelled out, making your hand drop from the nob. You stood in front of the door for almost a whole minute until his door opened. The boy greeted you with his lopsided grin, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. 

“Hi.” He said, before looking behind himself quickly. 

“Hey, you okay?” You spoke, your eyes looking into his full of worry. The boy felt his warm skip a couple of beats at the eye contact.

“Yeah, yeah, I just… I tripped over my bed.” He mumbled, clearly embarrassed about it. You tried your hardest to keep your laugh in, but eventually it slipped past your lips, Luke’s face growing red as he looked at the ground. 

“Sorry, sorry. You wanted me to stop by?” 

“Huh? Oh, yeah, right. Come in.” He said stepping aside. Once you were in, you turned around to look at him with a smile, only to notice one of his arm had been behind his back the whole time. 

“Whatcha hiding back there?” You asked curiously with a smile, his heart once again skipping a couple of beats. Without answering, his arm appeared in front of you, a bouquet of Gardenia, looking crushed a little, in his hand. 

“I feel on them.” He explained their odd shapes, only making your smile grow wider. “They’re for you.” 

“Thank you.” You whispered, your hands now holding the flowers. “They’re beautiful, Lu.” You added, a tint of pink flushing on your cheeks. No boy had ever gotten you flowers before, not even last year when your at the time boyfriend asked you to prom, never. You didn’t really understand why he had decided to gift you these on a random day of december, but you weren’t complaining. You finally understood why girls always freaked out whenever they’d receive some, you felt a warmth in your chest you had never felt before, and you loved it. 

“‘M  glad you like them.” 

“I love them, Luke.” You corrected him, walking up to him and wrapping your arms around his neck, the flowers still in your hands. Luke’s arms wrapped around your waist, keeping your body close to his as his head landed in the crock of your neck. 

“I don’t wanna be like a bitch or anything, but why?” 

“Just felt like it. You’ve helped me a lot, balance school and hockey, you’re always there for me. Thank you.” He explained, his voice low and muffled by your neck, but you understood every word he said. 

“No one’s ever bought be flower before.” You admitted, your voice also low and muffled. Your words made Luke pull away from your hug, but his hands remained wrapped around your waist. “What?” 

“You’ve never been given flower before?” 

“No.” You admited, your fingers playing with the curls on the back of his neck. You bit your lip, looking away from his gaze as he looked at you with a look you couldn’t describe. 

“You’re ex never bought you flowers?” He asked after a couple of seconds. You nodded your head to the side slightly, bitting down on your lips harder as you felt Luke’s grip on your waist tighten. “He’s an idiot.” The boy added softly, making you smile slightly. 

“Yeah, he is.” You sighed, thinking about how toxic your relationship had been. 

“You deserve all the flowers in the world, Y/N/N.” The boy mumbled, making your eyes fly up to meet his. The two of you stared at each other for a couple of seconds before Luke spoke once again. “The other guys are too dumb to see it, but I do. You deserve everything in the whole world.” He continued, his voice still as low as before. 

“Yeah? And who’s gonna give me that, Lulu. All boys want now is sex, they don’t care about the whole romance thing.” 

“I do. I can give you all that.” The boy whispered, one of his hand leaving your waist to cup your cheek. “I care about all the romance thing if you care about it, Y/N. I want to do all those couple things you always complain about because you don’t have anyone to do it with. I can be that guy, I want to be that guy, just for you.” He admitted, his face slowly getting closer and closer to yours until your foreheads were touching. 

Saying you didn’t feel anything for the youngest Hughes boy would be a complete lie. You had never been happier around another person before, being with Luke gave you this euphoric feeling of joy, and it was like a drug. You always wanted to be around him, you always wanted to feel those little butterflies in your stomach whenever he’d stare at you during a conversation. You were addicted to way he made you feel, you were addicted to him. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you. 

“Promise you won’t hurt me.” 

“Hurting you is the last thing I’ll ever do. You deserve to be happy, and I want to give you that.” The boy answered, leaning his head down a little lower so your nose were now touching as well. “I promise.” He added, and the next second your lips were on his. 

Suddenly, it was like the world stopped, all you could think about was the boy in front of you, and how you never wanted this moment to end. You found comfort in the kiss you were sharing, weirdly enough since it was the first one the two of you shared, but it felt like home. 

“I want you to be my boyfriend, Lu.” You said once the two of you pulled away. Your words made the boy chuckle a little before answering you. 

“Let me take you out on a date before, yeah?” 

“No. I don’t need to spend a night with you doing whatever to know how I feel about you, Luke. I want to be with you.” You said, and the boy nodded a bit before connecting your lips again for a short moment. 

“Girlfriend?” 

“Boyfriend.” 

~

“Woah! What’s going on over here?” Dylan asked later that evening, walking into his best friend’s bedroom, only to find the two of you half asleep, you body on top of Luke’s as his arms keep you close to his chest. 

“Get out.” Luke mumbled before turning on his side as you cuddle closer to him. “And don’t say a fucking word about this to anyone.” 

“Gosh, moody much.” The Duker boy said under his breath before walking out and closing the door. 

“I’m hungry.” You spoke, your voice gentle as you slowly woke up. 

“Wanna order something?” Luke asked softly, making you nod against his chest slightly. The boy then reached for his phone and started ordering from your favourite fast food place. 

“I had a dream, and it made me think of something.” You spoke again after a couple of seconds. 

“Tell me about it.” 

“I was shopping with Eva, and we went to Lululemon, and it reminded me of you.” You explained, your voice still softly as your eyes barely stayed opened. 

“Me?” 

“Yeah, ‘cause it’s called Lululemon. I’m gonna start calling you lemon now.” You told him, making him chuckle a bit. “Lulu the lemon.” 

“Does that mean I am supposed to call you lime?” He joked, finishing up the order on his phone and dropping it on his mattress as he moved to his back. You stayed sideways, your head now resting fully on his chest as one of your hands ran over his abs. 

“Please don’t.” 

“It’s fitting though, you’re sour like a lime.” He joked, making you look up at him with a frown. 

“Hey, that’s not nice.” You mumbled, only making him chuckle even more than before.

[papiliotao]

・❥・THE ELYSIAN PURSUITS OF ACADEMICS

♡ — Reader: GN

♡ — Characters: Albedo, Alhaitham, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Xiao

♡ — Synopsis: studying with him

♡ — Content: fluff, modern AU, school AU of some sort

♡ — A/N: I definitely didn't write this in an attempt to unwind after like three weeks straight of quizzes and tests. If you're currently suffering through school (or remember going through something similar), I hope this fic will help ease your pain! Also, if you like this please consider reblogging or commenting!

ALBEDO, who agrees to help you study without informing you that he has ulterior motives. While it is true that he wants to aid you in any way possible, a more selfish motive also lies concealed behind his gracious actions.

Lately an unfamiliar emotion has had a grip on him. It lingers, following him around, making its presence known through the uneven rhythm of his heartbeat and the way his cheeks haphazardly become rose-tinted. And while the feeling has haunted him throughout euphoric daydreams and sleepless nights alike, he finds that it is most potent when he is with you.

So now, he is sitting in the library with you, attempting to quell his curiosity and confirm his hypothesis by spending time with you to discover the catalyst for the unexplainable sentiments that plague his heart. As he glances down at his books, he notices that a thick fog fills his mind, permeating every corner of the space with tangible clouds of exhilaration. His eyes can't help but wander to you every once in a while. It almost as though there is a magnetic force drawing his aquamarine irises to you.

Whenever he is finally able to avert his stare, soft tufts of his ash-blonde hair fall and tickle his face, obscuring his view of you. However, out of a desire to seem inconspicuous, Albedo never moves to brush the strands of hair away, and one day, when you inevitably notice, you decide to help him.

A fleeting touch causes a cherry hue to dust his cheeks, and when you make eye contact with him, embarrassment overtakes Albedo. As he mutters a barely-audible "thanks" under his breath, Albedo comes to a conclusion.

He loves you.

ALHAITHAM, who is irrefutably genius yet one of the worst study partners. Ironically, his brilliance is ultimately the reason he is an ineffective tutor. Whenever he tries to explain anything to you, he uses complex terminology that sounds otherworldly, and he brings in concepts that are much too elaborate and obscure.

To some degree, Alhaitham enjoys seeing the clueless expression on your face as he uses his wits to concoct a verbose response to your questions, and when your features twist into a coalescence of confusion, he finds it oddly gratifying rather than irritating. It's endearing, and the way you attempt to keep up with his complicated explanations instead of giving up causes the slightest bit of emotion to slip through his logical front as his heart warms and a soft smile breaks loose on his face.

However, when pessimistic musings begin to spill from your lips into the air of the tranquil library, Alhaitham decides that perhaps it's finally time for him to try harder to accommodate you instead of maintaining his admittedly pretentious habits for his own amusement.

He knows that it's not your fault that you can't understand everything he says, so he doesn't see why you're criticizing yourself, but for you, he makes an effort to put your needs over his own leisure. Despite the fact that you can't see eye-to-eye, Alhaitham can still pick up on your feelings of insecurity and insufficiency, so he tries his best to slow down for you.

KAZUHA, who silently admires you as you chew on your bottom lip, allowing a groan of frustration to escape you as you exhale. To Kazuha, you look absolutely adorable. He suppresses the laughter threatening to bubble up and out of his chest, raising one of his hands to his mouth in order to conceal the tender smile blossoming on his face behind slender fingers. His ruby eyes feel permanently fixated on you as you mull over an assignment, and they sparkle with unspoken adoration with every move that you make.

He knows he should be studying, but he finds it impossible to concentrate on anything in your presence. You make his heart race erratically, and the utterance of his name from your lips whenever you need help penning down eloquently-conjured phrases sounds sweeter than the soft clinking of wind chimes in a gentle spring zephyr. 

Sometimes he longs to see the day where you finally catch him staring from across the table you're seated at, but you're always too focused on your work to notice anything off. So for now, he takes every opportunity he can to silently observe you, picking up on all your more subtle mannerisms.

And after each session of quiet hours spent in the library that pass far too slowly yet all too quickly at the same time, Kazuha takes your hand in his and walks you home, basking in the warm artificial glow of streetlights. Your bag is slung over his shoulder as the two of you stroll back to your house in the midst of a silent evening. The crisp evening air sends tingles down your spine, but Kazuha's comforting touch prevents you from shivering.

When you finally reach your destination, Kazuha says an earnest goodbye. Unbeknownst to you, he is already anticipating your next study date, walking away from your front door with a love-struck grin adorning his pretty face.

SCARAMOUCHE, who calls you an idiot for the fifth time in the span of an hour. The words leave his mouth with ease, as if insulting people is second nature to him. And perhaps it is, because whenever he helps you study, he can’t help but spout harsh fallacies whenever you get a question wrong, reprimanding you for your lack of understanding.

Although his words are rather cruel, you aren’t in a position to refuse Scaramouche’s assistance. When he’s not busy badmouthing you, the indigo-eyed boy is actually capable of offering valuable feedback. 

Besides, there are times where he actually shows some semblance of care for you. On days where you overwork yourself, Scaramouche never fails to find a way to discreetly complain about how long you’ve been studying, effectively forcing you to take a break. He likes to pretend that he’s doing it for his own sake, but deep down, he’s really just trying to look out for you.

If only you knew the full extent of his affections toward you. Every touch of your soft hands to his as you hand him your pen makes his heart flutter, and each "thank you" that falls from your lips causes a pale sunset blush to dust his fair cheeks. Perhaps one day, you will realize that all the brutal insults he sends your way are all made in a desperate attempt to conceal his overwhelming feelings for you.

XIAO, who feels his heart seize up each time he leans closer to you to get a better look at the homework causing you an unspeakable amount of grief. When he talks to you to answers your questions, his voice noticeably softens, and when you turn to him to thank him for helping you, he immediately averts his sunlit gaze.

He buries himself in piles of textbooks to distract himself from the perplexing butterflies settling in the pit of his stomach. However, whenever you call his name to ask for his assistance, his attention immediately snaps back to you.

He's surprisingly patient while teaching you. Although he's rather strict, his methods are effective, and he is completely honest with you if he believes you need to work on something. Xiao can't help but feel a twinge of guilt whenever your face falls as you get a question wrong. However, he knows that being truthful is the best way to aid you in fixing your mistakes.

And when all is said and done, Xiao finds that the way you smile with satisfaction evident in your features upon figuring a difficult concept out is the greatest reward he could ever ask for. The grin that adorns your face is woven from the stuff of dreams, and he hopes he will have the privilege of seeing for the rest of his life.

I don't really like the way I ended Albedo's (sorry), but I was too sleep-deprived to think of anything else :( Anywayyyy, have a lovely day!

[sleepydcpeach]

just unfair (1) | barry allen⚡

A//N - I didn't think I'd have so much to write about this so this will be a series. My first piece, I have written on Tumblr before but not much. Kinda getting back into the swing of things

warnings are posted for all chapters to come so this chapter is only a few small warnings, mostly angst

“Let me guess, you didn’t wait for orders again and got yourself hurt.” The man in the red suit flashed you a half-hearted smile as he clutched at his side. It seemed to always be the same story with Barry. Finding some way to end up on your table with stitches, bandages, burn cream, whatever it was he seemed to be a target quite often. 

“This is going to hurt a bit, I need to dress your ribs.” You explained as he leaned back, his suit torn and his skin ripped. 

“Actually, this time, it was something more along the lines of a tree got in my way and trying to go around it and not through it was a lot harder to do than I thought.” You winced at the thought of the impact that would’ve occurred. You began to dab at the wound with warm saline and a towel. 

Listening to him go on and on like always, his ramblings were something you had grown accustomed to over the months of knowing Barry. 

“Next time you should watch out and listen to me, you’re no help if you’re dead.” Bruce had walked in and made himself known by critisising his squad member. 

“How else was I supposed to get her attention.” He grinned at you before screwing his eyes shut in pain at the motion of you cleaning his wound. You shook your head in disapproval but couldn’t hide the smirk that creeped across your lips. 

“Get your head on right, before someone gets hurt.” Bruce turned and stormed out, you wanted to say something but bit your lips in an attempt to keep your opinion to yourself. 

“Just say it.” Barry broke the awkward silence as he recognised the same expression you always had on your face. 

“Say what?” You shrugged as you began placing the dressing on his wound, being very gentle and careful not to press on it. 

“You can’t hide it doll, I can see it on your face every time I’m in here with you. You think I’m being reckless.” He said it all actually, it just didn’t feel like it was your place to say that to him. 

“When you say it like that you make me sound like I’m the bad guy. I just think, maybe you should be more considerate about how you do things. I can’t help but wonder when the day you come back half dead will be. Or if you even come back at all.” Your heart began to pound against your ribs, anxiety running high as word vomit came out. 

“Tell me how you really feel doll.” He teased as he sat up, adjusting himself so slightly in that skin-tight suit. You mentally flogged yourself for taking notice of something dirty in this moment. 

“I’m sorry, I just care about you all and don’t want to see anyone get badly hurt. There’s only so much I can do.” You began cleaning your bench, placing his dirty, bloody rags in the bin and steralising your workspace. 

Barry always saw the envy you had in your eyes for everyone, their powers and abilities to save the world. He could always tell how badly you wanted to be able to do what they do, but he was thankful you didn’t. The idea of you having powers and at potential risk to lose your life saving someone, he hated to even think it but he was selfish enough to be glad you didn’t. You were just the Justice League nurse. 

“So aftercare doc, should I be taking anything? Avoiding anything?”

“Like you even listen to me anyways. No working out, no running at supersonic speed, and make sure you’re careful getting that dressing wet and cleaning it. I’d recommend baths instead of showers to avoid too much exposure to oxygen.” 

“Only if you join me.” The pink tint on your cheeks was your weakness, you could never hide your embarrassment, your thoughts. Barry walked out, being very careful not to strain himself too much as he made his way to his room. 

You allowed yourself to take a minute and catch your breath, your thighs beginning to gather sweat and arousal as they rubbed together in slight desperation. The thought of Barry taking a hot bath with you, bodies pressed against one another. You needed to stop yourself from letting your imagination take it further. 

“Hey doc, how was he?” Canary was always hanging around you, she was the only one who made you feel better on your bad days, besides Barry. She also knew right away when you started to fall for him, constantly finding ways to put you two together. Christmas parties, New Years, she even got you guys to be each others New Years kiss one year but it was nothing crazy. 

“Same old flirt, I gotta stop letting him do it. It just eggs me on to like him more.” You double washed your hands after removing your gloves, feeling squeaky clean again and finally back to a clean sterile area. 

“You need to do something to show him you’re interested as well. Like the same idea I’ve been suggesting for months now.” You rolled your eyes at her idea, it was too risky, too much on the line for you. It was enough to ruin everything between you and Barry and you weren’t sure what that would mean for your job either. 

“I’m just saying, some lingerie, some dirty music, handcuffs—” You bolted towards the door, slamming it shut in attempt to stop any conversation reaching anyone’s ears. Canary wasn’t exactly the quietest person when it came to these conversations. 

“Everyone knows about it, he isn’t this way with the others. You’ve seen it yourself, he has a thing for you.” 

“I don’t want it to just be a thing Canary! I need to know there’s more there than just want, need and lust. Otherwise what is the point?” You didn’t like raising your voice but it couldn’t be helped sometimes. 

The intercom beeped and Bruce’s voice was heard overhead. 

“Dinner is ready.” You and Canary left without another word to each other, but your eyes said it all. 

Dinner flew by quickly, everyone conversing about their recent victory in battle, sharing their personal hits and wins was something you always enjoyed listening too. It made you feel like you were there as well with them. You had requested to come with them in field to take care of them if they ever got injured but Bruce and Superman didn’t like that idea. 

Everyone was at the table eating but Barry hadn’t come down yet, you almost felt like he was avoiding you. But you chose to bury that feeling deep down. 

“Hey doc, why don’t you take Barry’s dinner to him. He’s probably caught up watching something.” Hal smirked at you, everyone seemed to be away of your feelings for him and took advantage of embarrassing you when they could. Canary threw her breadroll at Hal to shut him up. You paid no attention and grabbed the plate of almost cold food now, walking down the corridor to his room and knocking lightly. 

The door opened before you finish knocking, Barry standing before you with dripping wet hair. His sweats hung loosely around his waist, a small blonde trail of hair from his navel sneaking under the band of his sweats. It wasn’t the first time you had caught him like this, but he seemed to enjoy torturing you with it. You audibly gulped at the sight, a fresh bandage wrapped around his torso. 

“Well took you long enough.” He smirked, allowing you to step into his room and watching you place his food down on his nightstand. You avoided any eye contact with him, worried he’d see right through you. 

“I thought you might be hungry. It’s important you rest and fuel your body in order to get better. You won’t be going back into the field until you’ve recovered to my standard. When I give you clearance then you can return.” You watched his brows furrow as his door slammed shut. 

“I think in this case I don’t think you have that authority to decide that dollface.” You cringed but melted at his pet name he loved to call you. It was better than everyone calling you doc. You weren’t really a doctor, you were technically a nurse but you had become their full time medic after Bruce found you on the streets years ago. 

It was a tough time but you managed to fight through it all and get to a great place in life where you weren’t anxious or fearing about where your next meal would come from, where you would sleep for the night. 

“Actually I spoke with Bruce and he agreed with me. So if you have an issue then you can take it up with him. You’re not wriggling out of this one Flash.” You rarely used his hero name, it only happened when having a professional conversation with him and it seemed appropriate to do so. 

You didn’t notice the way he had slinked closer to you in the moments of discussion, the way your back had met the wall without a thought as he cornered you. His frame was much larger than the average guy you’d know, muscles and veins covered his body from head to toe, it only made you think about what was hidden behind those pants. 

You needed to get your mind out of the gutter, but the way he was closing in on you made both your heartbeats throb in sync. 

“I’ll make you a deal doll, you sleep in my bed with me for a week while I recover and I won’t even touch my suit.” You almost jumped up and down with glee screaming yes over and over again but you didn’t want to seem eager nor were you sure he was being serious. It was always hard to tell with Barry. 

“A week? You won’t be back on your feet for at least 3 weeks.”

“3 weeks it is then. What do you say doll? Deal?” He leaned against the wall, one arm holding him up on his good side as he flashed you the toothiest grin he possibly could. Eyes slightly darkening as they searched for your answer in your eyes. 

“Okay but we need some ground rules first.” You weren’t sure what he was trying to do or if you did know and just didn’t want to get too far ahead of yourself. 

“Number one, you have to be naked.”

“What!?” You covered your mouth at your own outburst, worried someone might overhear. 

“Thems the rules dollface, I sleep naked all the time. Think of it as winter training, your body regulates more heat from being naked.” You rolled your eyes, of course he was mansplaining health advice to the nurse. You moved around him, careful not to bump him and taking a seat on his bed. It felt weird, you were rarely ever in his room. Not for this long anyways unless he had run off with something of yours to stir you up. 

“Rules, clothes are always to remain on. Two, pillow wall is not to be crossed.” 

“Pillow wall?” He raised a brow, arms crossing his chest and his arms bulging, you wanted to wrap your legs around him and have him fuck you against the wall until you forgot your own name. 

“Yes a pillow wall. I don’t like people in my space. Three, lights out at ten. Ten-thirty at the latest. I am on a very strict routine. Any questions?” You pointed your finger at him in a demanding manner, hoping your serious face wouldn’t faulter. 

“How clothed is clothed?” You threw a pillow at him in frustration before storming out of his room, hearing his laugh boom down the hallway after you. 

‘Week One’

As promised you held up your end of the deal with Barry, agreeing to sleep in his bed with him for the next 21 days when he was deemed fit. You weren’t sure why you agreed to it, well that wasn’t true. You agreed because this was the first time you felt you had a chance to find out how he really felt about you besdies the harmless flirting and random compliments. 

You made your welcome known, bringing in your own pillows even though he argued his pillows were better. You just knew he didn’t like the pink crowding his room. 

“Hey this is what you agreed to.” Was all you argued when he continued to complain about his room now being 80% pink. You had made yourself at home, and you knew he already regretted it. After spending most of your day moving everything into his room and bathroom you finally got to relax. Laying down on the soft mattress that soothed your sore back, you almost forgot he was laying right next to you. 

“So should we talk bathroom schedule? Because this bathroom doesn’t lock, so if you’re taking too long in there and I need to be, you’re gonna be in for a treat.” You tried not to shade pink at the thought of his cock being pulled out right in front of you. Even if it wasn’t for the reason you wanted. 

“I’ll try not to hog the bathroom, but please knock at least to give me time to either run out or cover my eyes. I don’t need to be scarred by your micropenis.” You giggled as you watched his jaw drop. 

“I’ll have you know that I’m very well endowed. Don’t make me whip it out just for you doll.” You so badly wanted him to pull it out, you tried to think of something else to change the subject. 

“So your wound will need to be redressed every two days after this week and then after the next week we’ll see how it goes without a dressing and go from there. It needs a bit of exposure to help it heal. It shouldn’t be too bad though.” You wanted to move on and just let yourself settle for a bit, still feeling on edge about laying in the same bed as Barry. 

“Sounds good doll, you feel like watching a movie? Nothing girly, but I’ll let you pick. And I’ll fix us some snacks—ugh.” You were quick to stop Barry from getting up, grabbing hold of his bicep and stomach to hold him and slowly pull him back down to the comfort of his pillows. 

“Okay big guy, you definitely need to be taking it easy. I’ll fix us some snacks, and get you something for the pain as well. Wait here and pick something, but it has to be a romcom at least.” His gleeful smile turned into a pouty face at your request for a movie. You made your way to the kitchen, looking through drawers and cupboards to see what was available to eat. Something carb loaded and full of sugar or salt. 

“Day one, boy are you guys gonna be annoying to live with for the next few weeks.” You didn’t notice Hal standing there with Martian and Kendra eyeing you down as you happily waddled into the kitchen. 

“Annoying how?” 

“Like I wanna hear you two fucking all the time. My room is right next to his, the last thing I need to hear is ‘keep thrusting your micropenis in me’ all night.” You knew Hal was just trying to get everyone to laugh at him and pick on you. It made you a little stung actually that he was poking fun at Barry, that was your right only. 

“Actually I think you’d hear something a bit more along the lines of ‘oh fuck! Oh fuck! Yes right there Barry! Fuck! Fuck me harder Barry, fuck me just like that please! I’m cumming! I’m cumming—”

“Whose coming?” You jumped at Barry’s voice from behind you, yelping as you slammed your back against the fridge. 

“What are you doing up? You need to be resting.” You growled as you got up in his space, pointing your finger at him in a demanding manner. 

“Well it wasn’t fair that the person you were pretending to fuck wasn’t in the room. So thought I’d come join and see what I’m in for.” You grabbed the band of his pants, pulling him out of the room and back to his own bed. 

“I loved hearing you scream my name by the way, that’s something I’d only ever dreamed of.” You wanted to slap him, you had never been so humiliated before. Your eyes actually began burning from losing sensation and tears beginning to brim. You let go of Barry, standing with your back facing him and slightly hunched over. It went quiet, really quiet. He stopped talking when he noticed you weren’t moving or reacting anymore. 

“Dollface I didn’t—I wasn’t trying to make you upset. I thought we were kidding around. I wouldn’t actually expect anything from you just cause we are sharing a bed.” The silence was louder than anything you’d heard. You felt him touch your shoulder, he had never seen you cry before. Not directly, instead of allowing him to apologuse and comfort you, you chose to lock yourself in your office. 

Barry knew he could’ve stopped you from doing so, his ability to outrun you his advantage. But he didn’t want to hurt you more than he already had. 

You had been hidden in your office for majority of the day, Barry had tried knocking and getting you to come out but when he got no response chose to leave you alone. Everyone tried, Canary, Martian, even Bruce when he got back from his mission. When they realised they weren’t going to get you out of there they decided to wait it out. 

“She’s been in there all day, no food. Nothing. I don’t know what to do.” 

“Have you thought maybe using that thick head of yours to-I don’t know-apologise sincerely? Maybe pour your heart out a little so she can see you’re vulnerable.” 

“Vulnerable?” Kendra rolled her eyes, feeling like she was talking to a brick wall she gestured for him to leave and go try you again. 

You had been reorganising your drawers and cabinets, something that just made you feel a bit better when things were tough. Barry knocked on your door once again, waiting for a minute to hopefully hear your voice or at least the lock click. 

“Doll…please let me in. I really just want you to know, I care about you. I appreciate you and I never meant to make you feel humiliated or bad about what I said. It wasn’t right. I love you like you’re my own blood you know?” His own blood. He felt about you the way he would a sister, or a mother. Not a potential lover, a potential girlfriend or wife even. It hurt, it really did but you didn’t want to keep punishing him. 

You clicked the door, opening it and he practically threw himself onto you. Arms so big and snug, it made you feel safe and warm. His nose pressed against your neck, inhaling your scent and releasing a sigh of relief. You couldn’t not forgive him, but you were hesistant about sharing a bed with him now that nothing would ever come of it. 

But maybe this was your chance to change his mind about you. So it would seem that Canary’s idea might just work after all. 

[softshuji]

3:19AM | HANMA SHUJI

Title: sugar, spice, and all things nice.

Summary: It's your birthday and Hanma wants to make it special, in a way he knows matters to you most. Link to masterlist here!

cw: afab! reader, mild cursing, mild descriptions of canon typical violence, Shuji is so so soft, pet names (sweetheart, pretty girl, baby, babe, princess, doll) some kissing, light making out, established relationship, mild suggestive content, overall cute. This is very self indulgent. Reblogs appreciated!

Hanma Shuji scratches his neck as he scours the baking aisle, a basket in one hand, a crumpled recipe torn from a cookbook in the other. It’s late, he knows that and the angry mutter of the late shift workers isn’t lost on him as he peers forward to read the instructions on a shoddily torn paper.

‘What the fuck is this stuff?’ he mutters and tosses another ingredient into the basket, now filled to the brim with the other miscellaneous items. Butter, sugar, vanilla extract (he still doesn’t quite understand how that works), four brands of flour.  His suit is still pressed into place, the creases sharp and clean, the hem tapered perfectly down to his waist from the broad swell of his shoulders. But his eyes are tired, half-closed as he squints at the list of ingredients on the paper. 

Yes he’s 6’4 and fit, but the hunch of his back, the tired slouch is all too noticeable, especially when his hands itch for a cigarette and shake against his volition. 

‘Can I help you sir?’ someone says, and in his sleepy daze he only just registers the voice as a retail service worker curiously eyeing him and the way he shifts on his feet as he looks to no avail for the baking chocolate. 

‘I’m looking for…’ His eyes flick to the recipe again. ‘Baking chocolate with um… 75% cocoa solids.’ He’s not sure what that means either but the recipe says he needs it.

‘Just here Sir.’ They reach towards the shelf at his eyeline and hand it to him and he frowns at himself for having missed it so completely. Gosh he really is tired. 

He feels the need to explain himself, as if this entire endeavour wasn’t out of character for him already. 

‘It’s for my girl,’ he says and drops the chocolate into the basket with a thunk. ‘It’s her birthday tomorrow. Wanted to make her something.’ 

They nod, pursing their lips, eyes cutting to the suit, the basket, the dark shadows on his face, the ink that slips from beneath his sleeve. They turn away and Shuji can see the question left unasked written on their face as they leave him in the baking aisle under the sickly artificial lights. 

It’s a tad excessive, over the top, exorbitant even, the lengths he’s going just to make the day special for you, as if the motorbike he bought isn’t still sitting under a plastic sheet in the garden waiting for you. Another indulgent gift. 

He rubs his eyes, pressing his palms to his temples as his vision swims for a beat before checking his items out at the self-service. He’s tripped over his feet a few times, dropped his card, cursed under his breath even as he fishes in his pockets for the keys to his car, and perhaps driving isn’t such a great idea in his state, but the need for sleep is weighing so heavily on him and he needs to be in your bed or he’ll die he thinks. Again, a tad excessive, but it’s all he knows. He’s contradictions and indulgence. 

The drive home is long and tedious, copper street lights flashing by, dragging across tinted windows and Shuji pressing a little harder on the gas, an unlit cigarette hanging languidly between his lips. More than once, the slope of his shoulders has softened, head drifting towards the wheel. And More than once, he has shaken it off with a shake of his head and a deep breath, the sting of exhaustion pulling at his eyes that are dimmed with sleeplessness.

He knows, realistically speaking, you don’t expect this of him, you never expect much, you never ask and it both pains him and not, that you’re used to the chaos of his lifestyle in a way that never has you demanding him of anything, even when you deserve to, even when he can admit he’s been subpar.

When he slips through the door, the house is quiet, still in that way it often is when he comes home in the weak hours of the night, the clouds pregnant with oncoming rain, the patter of it a clink against the windowsill, the drone of the TV left as background noise. You can never sleep in the silence, in the bareness of the world without him and yet he leaves you time and time again every night, to navigate your dreams alone. You never hold it against him and he wishes you would, wishes you were less forgiving sometimes, less able to hold him together and yourself, less like you love him and more like you don’t.

He pops his head in, and sees your hair spilling across the dove grey of the pillow, your hand cradling your cheek and the other reaching to his side where he should be, where he prefers to be. Maybe it’s because he’s tired and fatigued and the exhaustion seems like its withering in the marrow of his bones, but he loves you so much right then, peaceful, safe in the house you share and if he could keep you there, forever, for as long as he could, he would do it.

He’s silent as he pads back to the kitchen, flicking on the stove’s overhead light and fishing in the bags, frowning against the waxen yellow that fills his periphery. 

He reads the instructions and it’s jargon to him really, pulling open cupboards and drawers and cursing under his breath when the metal clinks in a way that has his teeth on edge.

More than once, he thinks he hears your footfall on the stairs and scrambles to hide the countertop with his frame, as if the flour on his cheeks isn’t evidence enough of his midnight endeavours. You don’t wake and he slips the haphazardly created…thing in the oven, tuning the dial and waiting with a patience he finds uncharacteristic of himself, chewing on the end of his unlit cigarette in his suit that feels almost too tight, too cold,  scratchy and rough against his skin. 

When he pulls it out of the oven, and peels the baking paper, exactly as the instructions said, he’s almost proud of himself. He knows he isn’t doing it for himself, he knows he has nothing material to gain from it, and maybe it’s an apology, far less than he believes you deserve but an apology nonetheless.

For staying.

For trusting him.

For being led by the hand into the debauchery and sin of his world and never making it seem like he’d forced you there, into a place where there is little certainty and even less love, for staying the same regardless of what you had seen with him.

He trips on the breakfast bar stool and his hands skim the hot metal of the tin and he curses, for the umpteenth time, at the crash of metal that clatters to the ground and resounding echo of it that’s swallowed by the house.

He hears you then, your resounding footsteps, sock-clad and light. ‘Shuji?’ you say from the bottom of the stairs, in his shirt that’s entirely too big and thin for the chill that still creeps in through the draughts. Your hair is bunched on the one side from where it’s been pressed into the pillow, the shirt crumpled in the corner from your weight, goosebumps licking at the exposed flesh of your arms. You have never been prettier than now, in his shirt, his house, and safe where he can see you, where there is nothing but you and him.

‘Sweetheart,’ he says and coughs into his hand, his throat heavy with sleep and nicotine and disuse, voice laced with the sluggishness of fatigue. ‘Why are you up?’

‘I- I heard sounds, I came to check just in case.’ You step into the light of the kitchen, the silhouette of him burned and spilling onto the marble countertop, the outline of him ringed in golden yellow, big and beautiful, as if he could swallow the world whole. 

‘You came to check? Could have been dangerous, Pretty Girl,’ he says, and attempts to manoeuvre himself enough to cover the fruits of his labour behind him, as if the crumpled paper, torn packets and chocolate on the countertop isn’t evidence enough.

‘Maybe, but are you dangerous?’ You eye the spatula thrown into the sink, the mixing bowl turned on its side with the leftover contents spilling out, the flour that marks a trail to the oven and the fridge and dusted on his sleeves.

‘I might be.’

‘You’re not,’ you say and you step in front of him, his shadow eating you whole, blocking the the fluorescent stove light, the golden hue of his irises now dimmed and flecked with a pale waxen yellow. ‘You’re my Shuji, you’re just perfect.’

It feels instinctual, inevitable when you touch him, with a softness he has grown to love and an honesty that he’s always found abundant in you and lacking in himself. You touch him like you could break him, like he could fall apart at your hands like clay left in the sun. He could and you know that, that it is the tenderest feeling he has ever felt, the warmth of your palms on his cheeks. He sinks, unwillingly, involuntarily, into your cupped hands, lashes kissing at his cheeks as he exhales, the cold drag of tiredness spilling from his bones. 

‘You’re tired.’ Your thumb finds the sharp angle of his cheekbones, his jaw, tracing over the fine details of him, as if you’re committing him to memory, as if you could forget him tomorrow and he could slip through your fingers just so, tumbling into the ether without you.

It’s never been a secret, and you’ve never shied away from the knowledge that on any day like today, where his collar is stained with blood, cologne and smoke and the metallic tang pressed into his shirt that you run your hands on every morning, he might not return. 

 He knows you know that, you’re smart, diligent enough to be aware of what you were getting into. But it never means he doesn’t worry, doesn’t hold you tighter to his chest when he’s reminded of the lingering fear that he’ll be your death one day. 

‘What were you doing?’ you say and attempt to peek behind him where his hands are haphazardly covering something from view. ‘You didn’t come to bed.’

‘I was…’ And he manoeuvres his body to cover his creation, sliding this way and that and all too suspicious to be believable. ‘Hey, why are you trying to look?!’ 

‘Why are you being so secretive all of a sudden?!

You lean to the side and the broad swell of his chest bumps your head. 

‘It’s a surprise!’

‘I want to see it! If you don’t let me, no kissing for a whole week.’

‘Oh yeah? I’d like to see you live up to that Princess.’

‘Do you think I can’t go without you for a week?’ 

‘Oh Pretty Girl,’ he says and his lips brush your ear, teeth nipping at the tantalising flesh of your neck that he licks in a long line in one go, your breath caught in your throat, dizzying and heady all at once. ‘I know you can’t go without me for a week, you’re a shameless little thing.’

You pull back, hoping the shadow of him swallows the light enough to hide the avid redness spreading along your cheeks, the crimson touch of embarrassment that kisses at your skin and he grins, victorious and giddy despite his fatigue and despite it all. It’s you, and you are worth trying for.

‘You really won’t let me see?’ you say and plant your hands on his sides, his waist where it dips along his hips. You have always marvelled at how real he feels in your hands, how marvellous and beautiful, how you could eat him, and he you, living in each other’s skin, swallowing each other like fruit, like there are no people as insatiable and in love as you. You know there aren’t, you’re convinced you made it up, this thing called love. That it exists for the two of you to feel alone, as if you invented it. All lovers think that.

‘You wanna see it that bad? It’s nothing special, and you had better not laugh or I’m taking it back.’ It’s laced with humour but you can tell by him scratching at his neck, that it’s the closest he comes to embarrassment, as much as he’s able to feel. An awkwardness in incapability, in lack of knowledge, in an inadequacy you know he feels but never expresses.

‘I would never.’ You hold up your hand, as if to swear by it and he steps to the side almost sheepishly, rubbing at his neck, lacking the tell-tale grin, his sleeves rolled to the elbows from where chocolate has stained his cuffs, smeared against silver cufflinks that you help him with in the morning, the fruit of your love.

You stare. 

And there is silence, loud enough to drown out the patter of rain slapping against the window.

You stare, and you admit, it is lopsided, a little messy, decorating the countertop with half of the batter. 

There’s a candle in the centre of his haphazardly baked chocolate cake, unlit and leaning to the side, smudged with a dash of chocolate. And you know, in the very depth of your heart, it is the greatest gift you could be given. It’s him, presenting his heart on a plate, with all that it comes with. The danger, fraught with violence, the chaos of him that’s hot to the touch and wrapped in thorns, that you’ve so effortlessly softened with your own hands. Messy and disordered and lacking in the etiquette of more refined gifts and so entirely yours that it aches inside you, to an extent that has you sniffling into the sleeve of your nightgown, the tears unbidden and unrelenting, disappearing into the soft cotton of your sleeves. 

You see panic in your periphery, his darting eyes that move from his haphazard creation to you and your lips wobbling, hunched in your kitchen crying into your sleeves, your breath short and weak. 

‘You’re crying, why are you crying?’ he says, and he feels it, the well and bubble of fear that eats at him, panic that’s always so foreign now scratching at his bones, at his head so heavy with the need for sleep. 

‘Is it bad? You don’t like it? I know it doesn’t look very good but it probably tastes better-’ and it’s painful to ramble when you’re falling apart at his hands and he wants to touch you, hold you, wrap you in the safe confines of him where he thinks he can fix it, put you together like you’ve done to him, coaxing him away from the shoreline again. You’re inadequate, you are a joke, you are good for nothing but pain. He feels the shoreline creep along the edge of his thoughts.

You hiccup and turn to him, the worry spilling across his face, so beautiful and full of life and lacking the grin that you love and have come to cherish. ‘Shuji, My Baby-’

‘I’m sorry Princess.’

‘Babe-’

‘I’ll get rid of it, you can go back to sleep, I’ll get you something better-’

You grab his collars and tug, with conviction and determination, till his lips all but crash against yours. He makes a sound of surprise in the back of his throat, his hands instinctively coming to wrap around your throat, holding you by the back of your neck and firm enough to keep you in place as his tongue slides against yours. You bite down hard, playfully tug at his lips and it’s all teeth and need and urgency and want, hands running down his chest till you feel the tension slip from the hard rigid muscle of him, till he softens against you in a way that you love him for. 

And you do, you do love him, enough to want to eat the sun, to rage, to whisper into his hair every night, to die and kill for him with conviction, as if it’s you that has sullied your hands to get to him. You would go to him crawling and blind if you had to, reach for him wherever, be the hero he has been so many times for you if it meant keeping him. You’ve never needed him to repeat it, to love you in the way others do, romantic and pristine and textbook. You would have him like this, bloodied and guns- blazing and grinning as if the world rested in his palms. It does.

He pulls back, holding your throat in one hand, stroking the column of it under his thumb, resting it in the dip. ‘What was that for Princess? Aren’t you upset?’

You shake your head and bring it to rest against his shoulder, your hands flat on the swell of his back, the muscles shifting and sliding underneath. ‘I’m happy dummy, so happy.’

‘What was all the crying for then Pretty Girl? You worried me.’

‘I really love you, you know that? I don’t say it enough.’

‘You don’t need to, you know how we are, we don’t need to say it.’

You lift your head, and your eyes meet his, glowing a faint amber beneath his lowered lashes, the shadows greying and darkened underneath, and it never takes away from him, never makes him lesser despite himself. You want him, with an unquenchable lust and love and respect and admiration that you have reserved just for him, an avid insatiable want that has you keening in withdrawal when he’s not around.

‘I just want you to know, you’re mine, and I like it, I like everything you give and do for me, you’re my hero remember?’

‘Mhm, sorry Doll.’ 

‘What for?’

‘Should’a got you something better, a ring maybe, nice pretty thing for a Pretty Girl like you.’ A whisper against the crown of your hair. It’s almost shameful, how easily you love him, how easy you make it seem, as if he doesn’t wash the blood from his hands every night when it’s caked into his nails, as if this life isn’t built on the bones of others that he’s gleefully stepped on, repeatedly, as if it has not meant anything.

‘Don’t.’ You hold his face and frown, your cheeks still wet with tears, your sniffles still drying against the shoulder of his shirt, a small puddle that you know he doesn’t mind. ‘Don’t ever apologise to me, you have nothing to ever be sorry for. I would kill for you, do you understand?’ 

‘Oh yeah?’ he says, chastised, albeit playfully, and like that, you know you’re fine, more than fine, and perhaps it’s just the fatigue of the day, emotions caught in the way they often are between you. Because he loves you in a way that devours him, fire swallowing up the earth. ‘You’d protect me huh Baby?’

‘You know I would, I’d fight anyone for you.’

He chuckles, breathy and soft, laced with a tiredness that his bones aching and it feels good, it feels right to be here, sleepy and vulnerable and with you. Where he belongs.

‘Yeah I know,’ he says and his lips brush your forehead with a tenderness that you know is yours entirely, another gift to you. 

‘Happy Birthday Princess.’

a/n: ah haha yeahh, I don't have any explanation for this, just that the 28th march is my birthday and this is a present to myself ('n' to my baby, who knows who they are ofc) I had this in my drafts since last year actually but I only just finished it. Anyway, thank you everyone, all the time, for everything. if you ever would like to donate to my ko-fi, and i'd love that, but thank you always.

taglist: @reiners-milkbiddies @mxnjiros @islascafe @swqllen @prettyiolanthe @sugusshi @wotakuhime @snakegentleman @severellamahottub @haitaniapologist @lonnie19 @nafarsiti @bejeweled-night-33 @ranscutedoll @the-travelling-witch @orchid3a @rottingreveries @qiiuusoup @hoetani @sinfulseashell @welcome-to-the-internet-it-sucks @obitohno @tetsutits @burnishedcrown @sweet-seishu @saintokkotsu @nikokopuffs (let me know if you'd like to be added)

[queer-here-and-in-fear]

remember (to call back)

A03 link

description:

Stanford Pines swayed in the wind, carelessly perched on the cabin. More relaxed and still then Fiddleford could remember him ever being. Icicles clung to his glasses, his lips were tinted blue. The sight made Fiddleford’s heart jump into his throat. OR Fiddleford McGucket (and Stanley Pines) are both deadset on keeping Stanford from killing himself. Something he is not trying to do.

notes:

i am so happy to finally have this out!! @anonymous-chicken-was-taken and @kitkatcatmeow (both @ tumblr) were my beta readers and were AMAZING HELP, a million thanks to them!! i hope its a good read!!

Gravity Falls winter winds were darned vicious; they fought and kicked like any wild hog. It was as if the weather itself was trying to keep him away from that cabin, and Fiddleford reckoned his boots would be scuffed like shit after this. 

He couldn’t call it in now, though. He just couldn’t. The cabin - the hole to hell Ford had dug himself with his bare hands, the monument to all the terrible and wonderful and deadly parts of Stanford Pines, every single mistake of the last years, - it had what he needed. The memory gun.

Cause Fiddleford could not go on remembering.

He was sure that there was nothing on this earth or another that would soothe his thoughts as long as he remembered. He would go back there - just this once, to sleep again, spend his nights without any of his kickin’. Once he had the gun in his hand, he could move on. No more weight around his neck. No more restless nights.

By the time he could make out the cabin, the winds were finally letting up on him. It would only be two shakes of a lambs tail before he was in and out. Yet, as he made his way closer to the dim light in the snow, his legs stopped moving, and it was far harder to keep himself standing than it ever had been in the wind. Not for any reason but what he saw. What his eyes were locked onto on the roof above.

A figure stood on the roof. No, wait. Ford. Stanford Pines swayed in the wind, carelessly perched on the cabin. More relaxed and still then Fiddleford could remember him ever being. Icicles clung to his glasses, his lips were tinted blue. 

The sight made Fiddleford’s heart jump into his throat. He reckoned- it-it must’ve been hours Ford had been up there, then. Hours on the roof, staring ahead, near unseeing. He sure didn’t see F, anyway. 

The south wasn’t known for it’s stunning mental health - or whatever it were called, anyway. Fiddleford surely picked that up, any courses starting with a psy mostly got slept through, but he learned some things anyway. That uncle that ain’t allowed near razors, or the unexplainable boot marks he found on the edge of the roof, that no one would explain. Fiddleford knew what this meant.

There was a part of him - a terrible little part, that told him to let Ford choose his own path and just get what he came for. God knows McGucket didn’t exactly have a good track record in convincing the stubborn idiot. What was the point in trying to talk him down if he’d just jump anyway? The snow was too thick for the fall to work, that was clear enough. Maybe a few broken bones would set him straight. 

.. Of course, that weren’t the part of him that he were raised to listen to. No, if he listened to that part of him, he might actually have a good life. Instead, here he was. If Ford jumped - the impact might not kill him, but the hypothermia would get him anyway - and McGucket could still feel that debt to him heavy on his heart. His mind was made up from the second he saw him. 

“Oh Ford.” The words didn’t carry the resentment he intended. They just sounded worried. Exhausted, but worried.

He caught his eyes back on Ford and steadied himself. His vision was clearer now. Ford's eyes - behind the fog and icicles - were wide with a strange mania. His entire body shook from the cold, but more notably his breathing hitched as if he was sobbing.. or laughing. He couldn’t make out what the thin noise was in the wind. Either way, it made him choke back vomit rising in his throat.

He bit back all those feelings until he was just left with focus. That was enough. He pushed his sleeves up his arms and stared ahead. One of the good things he learned from the country was the ability to get places quick. The human body was an amazing machine when used right - and he didn’t need no ladders or reasonable safety equipment to get up that roof. Just himself, his mind, and thank god he still had that if nothing else.

He traced his eyes up the path. He dug his boots into the snow until he hit the dirt. He dropped the bag he brought into the snow, supplies be damned. Not once did he breathe. Finally, finally, he sucked in a deep breath, rubbed his palms together, and bolted like the devil was fast after him. 

The moment could’ve only been six, seven seconds in all. Running like hell. Clambering up the snow bank that built up every year desperately. Feeling it implode under his weight right as he threw himself forward - and barely managed to haul himself onto the roof.

The roof creaked under his weight, but there was no reaction from Ford. Looking up from where he was, those manic eyes didn’t look wide anymore, but.. thin. Elongated, like something had pinched the edges of his pupils and stretched.. He weren’t gonna think too hard on it. It wasn’t his business, not anymore. He shook himself back to the task at hand, trying to get his bearings. His only business was keeping him alive.

Climbing up the roof wasn’t easy, but it weren’t impossible either. It took a focus, sure, but it became a rhythm eventually. Catching his boots and hands on the shingles that were dry enough to grasp, and pulling himself up as quietly as he could. His hand was inches away from Ford's ankle in seconds. As he pulled himself forward to grasp, though, his boot caught on a faulty shingle with too much confidence. He yelped like a kicked dog and started to slip, but-

But a hand caught him. A six fingered, ice cold hand wrapped around his wrist. Loose enough to make him feel like he was about to drop. Tight enough to hurt. He froze. The hand pulled him up, and he clambered along with, pliant under the touch. He was met with a wide eyed grin. 

“Sup, Specs!” Fiddleford stiffened hearing the words. That didn’t sound anything like his Ford, it was wrong. All wrong wrong wrong. 

“You know, I really should’ve predicted you coming on a rescue mission for Brainiac here.” The third person rung strange. “You’ve always loved a good pet project. You started out fixing up old defective washing machines in the back yard. Now, you got a whole defective person!” 

Fiddleford gaped. He hadn’t ever told Ford that.. had he? 

A choked noise was forced out of when the grip on his wrist tightened painfully. Ford only grinned at the look on his face. “Sudden organ failure at a hundred and eight doesn’t sound too hot, does it Fiddler? How about I avoid that for you, by killing you NOW?”

Ford let go of his wrist, and instead got a death grip along his collar. Fiddleford's knees crumpled under him, but Ford's grip held him up. He choked as the collar pulled against his neck, and tried so hard to speak, to ask him why, to talk him down, to say I’m sorry. None of it came out. Ford dangled him over the edge of the cabin, and leaned in to whisper, hot wet breath on his ear. “By the way, nice hologram theory Specs. Realllyyy liked that one.”

Fiddleford turned to look at him, and he spat chewing tobacco in his eyes.

There was a scream, and next thing he knew he was gripping on to the edges of a vest and dragging someone down with him. He held onto Ford for dear fucking life as they fell. They slammed into the ground, snow biting at any exposed skin. Fiddleford's head was cushioned by the body under him. Ford's head hit the hard ground with a thunk. His stomach dropped, and his hands scrambled up to check his heart rate.

There was a beat of silence before his hands found the spot, and he felt the steady beat underneath. The relief was immense, but god the skin was ice cold, stinging to the touch. His hands wandered up naturally, and Ford leaned into the touch desperately in his unconscious state. 

The sight was jarring, because- Ford had tried to kill him. No concern in his eyes. No second thoughts. Really, truly, tried to kill him.. Had Ford gone mad in his absence, or was he always like this? Fiddleford hated that he wasn’t confident in either answer. He hated more that it didn’t make him reconsider anything he would do next.

He had to get him inside, after all. He was relieved to find all four limbs still functioning, if a little worse for wear, as he pulled himself off Ford. It took a few minutes to shake his hands till they weren’t numb, but then he hauled Ford up by the armpits. 

It was damn hard, of course, but.. easier than he expected. His hands poked into ribs, and he absently wondered if Ford had been eating enough in his absence.. He doubted it. Doubted even more so that he could do anything about it. 

It didn’t matter. Ford wasn’t his responsibility. He was only here to get the memory gun, and babysit him until he could pass him onto Blubbs and Durland, so they could get some family to come and get him. Ford wasn’t his responsibility, and he’d be damn fine without his help. Even if he wasn’t, Fiddleford couldn’t fix him if he didn’t want to be fixed.

(Though, of course, what family would help him? The father that Ford's middle name was after, the same middle name he’s always wanted to change? The father that couldn’t ever be bothered to pick the damn phone? The father Ford could name scars for? Would he care for him?

What about the mother that answered the phone, but Fiddleford could hear the alcohol on her breath through the call every damn time, in her ramblings? The one who always left Ford shaken after calling? Would she care for him?

Or the brother that Ford hated, the conman and salesman that ruined his life. Would he care? Even if he could, even if he did, would his best attempt even be close to enough? Would Ford let him?

What family did Ford have left but him?)

He dragged him across the snow and up the porch. It was a damn good stretch on the muscles, fire alighting under his skin as he pulled. Yet, even as he knocked him against the porch steps (he was trying to be gentle, he swore) Ford wasn’t roused. He was dead to the world, and when looking at the eyebags, it was obvious as to why. Fiddleford elbowed the door open, and stepped in the doorway.

Three senses hit him simultaneously when he entered the cabin. A sudden burst of warmth, the thick but friendly smell of fire smoke, and.. music. Sweet dreams are made of this, rung through the house. There was nothing wrong with the scene, but it all felt off to Fiddleford. It was easier to move Ford over the carpet, at least. He set him by the burning fire, watched the shivering start to ease before he turned to face the room. It..

It looked like a threat set out. How a serial killer would set the room to mock a domestic family. The barely started chess game, the polaroids carelessly strewn about, the still steaming mug and the running record player all felt so visceral. Fiddleford picked up one and palmed it in his hand. The words Puppet Hour hung over Ford's head. His eyes were.. wrong. There was something deeply wrong. He let it drop to the floor.

Fiddleford picked up the tape that had been left on the floor. This scene had been set out for someone.. but who? It couldn’t’a been him, he hadn’t told Ford he was comin. The.. towns police? Those two would’ve found him sooner or later, if he had.. gone through with it. The scene was set up like it’d be found quick, though. The burning fire and hot tea made that point. Something was still wrong though. Very, very wrong.

Against his better judgment, Fiddleford pushed the tape into the cassette player. The video unfolded before him. Maybe, if this was another man, he could’a laughed. He didn’t. 

Every single scene made him burn with second-hand humiliation, a mountain of concern, and admittedly a good bit of pity. Had the isolation driven Ford this mad? This fast? 

It didn’t make sense though. None of it made sense. Even as the video ended, the slow turn to the camera after Ford made the call felt nonsensical. It didn’t even go through, so this couldn’t be for Stanley. Who was being threatened here? LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME MAKE YOU DO. The words were- Wait- GO DOWNSTAIRS AND TURN THE PORTAL ON. Fiddleford choked in a breath. Wait, oh god, wait. 

Those were not Ford's eyes staring back at him. 

Without his own conscious input, he re-round the tape. The second watch was horrible with the context in mind. Every single thing that Bill did in Ford's body wasn’t just Ford losing it. It was a threat, a punishment. A reminder for Ford that he should behave himself. That’s what him jumping would’ve been too, if McGucket hadn’t intervened. He pulled the tape out of the cassette player and threw it across the floor. He couldn’t handle it anymore.

Fiddleford felt too much and nothing all at once. He felt fucking sick, he felt deathly relieved that Ford had stopped on the portal, he felt an all consuming dread and pure blood curdling rage. At that thing in Ford's body, at Ford for not telling him and himself for not noticing because dammit, dammit he could’ve helped. More than anything, though, he felt horror. He knew how possession worked. Ford had trusted the thing at some point, let it in. “Ford,” he pressed a shaking hand to his lips, “ya didn’t.”

“Fiddleford, I promise I can explain.” Fiddleford spun around to find Ford sitting up, looking sick and shaky and sounding desperate. Ford reached out. Against his first instinct, Fiddleford pulled back - because god, was it Ford? His glasses were fogged. He couldn’t tell, he couldn’t see his eyes. He couldn’t, he couldn’t take the risk, he-

Fiddleford, without warning, jumped at him. “Ford” (Who was it? Who was it? Who was it?) yelped pathetically and tried to kick him off. Despite their size difference, Fiddleford was wrangling him like a hog with ease, and it was only a few minutes of wrestling until “Ford” was pinned under his knee, hands pressed under his back. 

“Who are ya?” Fiddleford growled, shifting to get a better grip on him. The thing underneath him pressed itself against the floor, muscles shaking as the body tried to hold itself still. Fiddlefords voice broke, “why are you in his body, god-dunnit?”

Ford- It- The body stopped fighting him. “Fiddleford, it’s me. My glasses are fogged, I know, but-” It’s voice broke off with a choked sound. The chest underneath his knee struggled for breath, and Fiddleford begrudgingly let up some of the pressure.

There was a gasp. “I-If you get the glasses off and look into my eyes you’ll see my pupils are round, not elongated. I am not Bill. O-Okay?” The voice sounded afraid, terrified actually. Fiddleford's face softened, his feral exterior so easy to crack. Dammit. Okay. He reached up, watching for the slightest movement as his hands met the glasses frames. He pushed them off.

.. Completely normal and round and utterly terrified brown eyes met his. Shit.

Painstakingly, he got off Ford. Ford didn’t move an inch the entire time, just closing his eyes and pulling in deep breaths once the knee was off his chest. Once Fiddleford was off him, he gathered himself up, pulling his glasses back on and pushing himself into the far corner of the room. 

“.. Nice seeing you too, partner,” if Ford intended there to be any venom in the words, it didn’t come through. It just sounded a little bitter.

Fiddleford sat down across from him, and let an uncomfortable silence settle over the both of them. His eyes were locked on Ford, trying to piece together what he was seeing and the Ford from weeks ago, and Ford looked anywhere but. It grated at them, until something snapped. Fiddleford took a deep breath in.

“.. You ain’t workin’ on the portal anymore, I gather.” He broke the silence, and without response he added, “.. somethin named Bill want’s ya to, though. He’s real mad that you ain’t. You’re scared of what he’ll do, but you know the consequences if you listen are worse.” 

Ford was stunned. The secret was so close kept, how did he figure it out? Fiddleford stared at him, and then cleared his throat when he didn’t get a response. “How close am I?” He added, tone slightly impatient.

“.. Closer than you could ever know,” Ford answered finally, pulling at the loose strings in his sweater, “but thats not even the half of it.” He sighed, shaking his head. 

“Fiddleford, I thank you for.. your concern,” Ford finally landed on, feeling indebted but unsure why, “but for your sake, you should go. Earlier, when you left, I- I was angry, surely-” Ford took a deep breath, “but in retrospect, you made the right choice. I have gone places no man wants to be, and I don’t want to drag you down with me. I’ll handle my own demons.”

The expression Ford was met with when he looked up was pointedly unimpressed. “I left cause you were deadset on a crazy damn plan that was gonna destroy the world. You didn’t listen to common sense or reason. You were a selfish damn fool, and I knew I couldn't convince ya’ if you weren’t willing, stubborn ass...” 

Ford flinched with shame.

 “.. But you figured it out, and you’re trying to fix yer mistakes. So, no matter what ya say, I’m staying. I don’t got any reason to leave now.” Fiddleford only smiled at him, exasperated but fond to the bone.

Ford stuttered on air a few times before responding. “You can’t even understand the gravity of this, Fiddleford,” he tried to argue, but the resolve was already breaking in him.

Fiddleford shrugged. He shifted himself until he was settled beside Ford instead of across from him, leaning on him a settling a warm hand on his shoulder. The touch melted any arguments Ford might’ve had. “Yup, I don’t. Try to fill me in though, will ya? I can’t help without knowing what’s going on, after all. Even if I won’t fully understand, I can get pretty darn close, I think.”

Ford took a deep breath, “Ok. I can do that,” he agreed. He straightened his back before starting. “I found an inscription, with instructions to summon-”

[lil-elle]

Stealing a Sip of XIKERS Drink

pairs: xikers x gn!reader

genre: fluff!!, crushing, shy boys

word count: 1.7k

content: kisses, um sharing a straw (if that grosses you out?)

a/n: hopefully this'll be my coming back post! ☺️

Minjae:

Jaw dropped and blushing, staring at you like you in disbelief just cast a magic spell or something

Stuttering while trying to ask why you did that, his eyes constantly darting back to the part of the straw your lips just touched, blushing even harder thinking about how you'd just put your mouth on the straw that he'd also put his mouth on

Eyes dropping down to your lips every now and then as you giggle at his panic, finding him cute and innocent

Would be very hesitant to keep drinking it afterwards, being too flustered by the fact he'd be putting his lips somewhere your lips had been

Good luck with actually kissing him, he'll be a mess of stuttering and blushing like crazy

-

Junmin:

The man would freeze, literally, you'd be waving your hand in front of his very red face and he'd just be unresponsive. Lights are on, no one's home

His mind is in chaos. He's screaming and giggling and crying on the inside all at once all while you're standing there like “Junmin? Hellooooo? Anyone home?”

One of the thoughts running through his head would just be “I should kiss them right now”. He won't be able to stop thinking about it. Seeing the way your lips wrapped around the straw that he'd used already made his desire to kiss you sky-rocket 

If he ends up too shy, he'll just throw the drink away and speed walk away, hand clamped over his mouth as fantasies of kissing you play on his head over and over

If all goes well, he'll build up enough courage to just drop the drink, grab your face and kiss you like he wanted to

-

Sumin:

He'd think you were so adorable yo be honest, a soft smile and a pink tint crossing his face

He'd probably just give the rest of the drink to you assuming you actually wanted it, and not that you stole a sip to see him get flustered. If he thinks you want it, he'll give it to you no question, he's that kind of guy

You'd get flustered and tell him your real intentions of wanting to see him embarrassed he'd just giggle and tease you, “if you wanted to kiss me so badly, you could've just asked~”

He'd watch with a smile as you pout and blush, flustered by his words, before he leans in and kisses you softly

After that incident he'd definitely prank you. The next time he's holding a drink, he'd pretend not to pay attention until he sees you creeping up to sneak a sip. Then he'd immediately turn his head so your lips met his rather than the straw and he'd just watch you freak out

-

Jinsik:

Confused at first, just staring at you. He probably wouldn't realise the implications at all first, wouldn't immediately think of the whole “indirect kiss” thing

You might have to whisper to him that you technically just indirectly kissed him, and once he hears that he'll be a blushing and smiling mess

Would insist that he doesn't care about that kind of thing but he'd be smiling and blushing so much, literally giggling and kicking his feet

His eyes would keep lingering on your lips but he wouldn't say anything, he's too much of a gentleman 

You'd have to notice on your own and make the move, and once you do, his head would just be spinning. He'd pull you in shyly, kissing you with a smile on his face

-

Hyunwoo:

Another one that wouldn't immediately know what an indirect kiss is. You'd literally have to explain to him that you put your mouth on something he'd put his mouth on, therefore making in and indirect kiss

Once he understands, he'd be stuttering and blushing, insisting that it's stupid and means absolutely nothing

King of trying to hide his flusteredness by just rambling about how silly it is and how only silly people would believe in something like that

His rambling would be his own downfall, and he'd end up spitting out something like “what's the point of this stupid indirect kiss when you could just kiss me directly-” 

He'd blush but you'd just smile and kiss him, keeping your eyes open to watch his go wide with shock and his face go even redder

-

Junghoon:

I'm almost convinced he just wouldn't care. He'd hand you the rest of the drink assuming you wanted it with his signature straight face

You'd explain to him the whole point and what an indirect kiss is and what you were trying to do and he'd just be like “Oh. You're cute.” With a small smile

From then on he'd always offer you a sip of his drinks, whispering “indirect kiss?” as he hands it to you and you'd just giggle at his cuteness

One day you'd decide to catch him off guard. He'd do his usual thing, handing the drink to you and whispering and you'd just reach up, grab his face and kiss him directly, his eyes going wide

As you'd pull back, it'd be the first time you'd really seen him with a really different expression from his usual one. His cheeks would be a soft pink and his ears would be just bright red. His lips would be parted slightly in shock and his eyes would be so wide you were convinced they'd pop out from their sockets

-

Seeun:

He'd somehow catch you before you were going to do it, snatching the drink away before you could get to it. He'd proceed to laugh, telling you that you need to be more stealthy to get him with that

And so starts the saga of trying to steal sips of his drink without him noticing. Any chance you'd get where you see him with a drink with a straw in it, you'd sneak up and pounce

One day, he'd be super distracted by something and you'd end up actually getting it, to which he'd smirk at you and look into your eyes before leaning down and taking a sip of it himself, holding the eye contact the whole time

He'd smirk as you go red from him turning the tables on you, and he'd just chuckle and poke you on the forehead teasingly

He'd land the final blow by saying “if that's how red you get from an indirect kiss, I'm looking forward to when I actually kiss you~” leaving you absolutely stunned

-

Yujun:

He'd be so flustered but I think he'd just giggle be so cute about it. He'd insist that you two share the drink while blushing and smiling super wide

The whole time the two of you are sharing the drink he would not be able to stop smiling. In his head he'd be freaking out about how cute you are and how romantic the situation is but he'd be trying not to let it show on his face

It'd become a habit between you two, buying a drink you both like and sharing it. It just makes you feel so close and bonded and happy

One day Seeun would see you two doing this and immediately start teasing you, insisting that you two should just kiss already and stop acting like primary school crushes. You'd both go red and look at each other, his eyes falling to your lips before he quickly turns away

The next time he'd be buying a drink for you two, you would've gotten over Seeun's teasing, back to your normal routine. At least, that's what you think until Yujun watches you take a sip and almost immediately brings his lips to yours afterwards, giving you the most soft and gentle kiss ever

-

Hunter:

He'd just smile and tilt his head at you, amused and finding you adorable. He wouldn't say anything after you look up at him and you'd start getting flustered

You'd explain to him the indirect kiss thing, thinking he doesn't realise, but he'd confirm that he knows, he just thinks you're so cute and he'd confess that he just wants to kiss you for real

He'd keep smiling as you blush and get flustered and he'd just offer you the rest of his drink, trying to be cheeky and just making you more flustered

He'd always make it a habit to offer you sips of his drinks even though you'd always decline while blushing and he'd just be like “awww what about our indirect kiss?” in a fake sad tone just to fluster you more 

He'd never ever try to actually kiss you without you saying so or making the first move, he'd just tease you and flirt with you until you give in and kiss him

-

Yechan:

He'd actually get offended like, how dare you steal some of his yummy drink that he was enjoying ????

He wouldn't even think about the indirect kiss thing because he's too busy getting revenge on you by tickling you or poking you or by little you up and swinging you around like a ragdoll

He'd only realise it later when he's alone. He'd zone out staring at the straw and suddenly the thought of “they put their lips where mine had been…” and then he'd just be blushing and giggling, throwing his head back and covering his face, kicking his feet like crazy in his bed until Junmin leans over from the top bunk and tells him to stop with an annoyed tone

He'd stop flailing but he'd just sit there giggling and staring the straw of his drink like a lovesick boy

The next time he has a drink, he'd offer a sip to you which would just completely throw you off because of how he literally attacked you when you stole some of his drink first. You'd honestly think it was a trap, like he was trying to test you but you'd carefully accept and take a sip. He'd giggle and just happily say “thanks!” before waddling away, leaving you so confused

-

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

TAGLIST:

@hyunromi @chocoeon @hyunukitty @ihyeokzu @cake1box @chiiyuuvv

[mxtantrights]

Bounded by blood and Shadow (22)

azriel x magic!fem!reader

You remember the stories of war that Cyril and your brother told you about. How bloodshed is merciless and the anger can be felt in waves. Blood benders, when they went to war it was horrible. More carnage than necessary, because the more blood spilt the more weapons you have.

But you have no choice now.

A new enemy has made itself known. Koschei. Azriel has given you all the information he can. All that he and Rhysand know about the death god.

It sits on the tip of your neck, an unbearable weight. Like an unsettling familiarness. 

Cyril told you the story once when you were young. The story of your great ancestor who dared to go head to head with one of the old gods. She was a drifter, not ready to assume the throne but ready and willing to fight.

Almost a quarter of the population, back then it was eight digits, died because of her miscalculation. It’s part of the reason why the wards were put up and communication with the outside world was rare if it all. 

You hope that you’re not following down the same path. You hope that you’re not putting your people in harms way, backing them into a corner. 

With a sigh you knock on the door. Which is weird but you have other people living in your home and you don’t want to just assume that you are welcome in every room.

“Just a second!” Azriel’s voice sounds from the other side.

You hear some clattering behind the door. Then footsteps. Without a second to waste after that the door swings open. You take him in now.

His hair is messy, his clothes disheveled. He smiles at you. He spent the night here in the war room. Trying to go over anything and everything that he could.

Unsurprisingly he could read your ancient language, thanks to your blood running through him.

“Are you busy?” You ask him.

He shakes his head, “Not for you. You need me?” “Desperately.” You answer simply.

Then something in you takes over. You never felt it before. Not with Kynas, not with anyone. The insatiable need to be in someone else’s space. To have not an inch between you.

You take one step into the room and close the door behind you. All in a quick motion you coil your arms around his neck and bring him closer. You can see him stutter a bit in his movements. But he’s quick to fix that.

His arms go around your waist and drag you closer to him. Front to front. 

“Azriel,” you start.

He leans forward and places his forehead on yours. You look up at him. He has his eyes closed and he can hardly fight the boyish grin on his face. Why would he?

You can feel his breath fanning your face.

“Azriel,” you start again.

“Yes, impossible woman.” He jokes.

You crack a laugh at that. “I confessed my very true and strong feelings for you and didn’t see you again for the rest of the night.” You say.

Azriel peels himself away from you, albeit very slowly, and looks you in the eyes. One of his arms that is around your waist snakes up. Up and up until his hand is cradling the side of your face.

“I was getting a head start on your work. So that we could spend some time alone later today.” He explains. You lull your head to the side, further into his warm hand. He was making time for you? Huh. A few weeks ago you wouldn’t have though it possible. But now, now it’s everything you want.

“I would have much rather enjoyed waking up to the sight of you.” You admit.

You watch in real time as a very rainy red tint coats his cheeks. It makes you smile even harder, but you try to hide it. You try bitting your lip. But Azriel has other plans. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip. Ever so gently.

“We can fix that right now.” He says.

You could. You undeniably could. But you are empress. And you have a job to do. And a sworn duty to your people. You’ll be busy for at least half of the day today.

“I have my duties.” You say.

But it’s not really like you want to leave him. Not when your body curls toward him more and more. Or when one of his shadows wisps at your leg from underneath your dress.

“Will you be free later today?” He asks.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

-

You watch the last carriage leave for the Day court. It put a heavy weight on your heart to do so. But it’s for the best. Those who have lived here with no prospect of leaving deserve to know what the world has to offer. If they choose to stay in the Day court or travel beyond that is up to them.

One of the children in the carriage waves at you. You wave back at them.

You think of what could have been if your people were meant to live among the fae instead of away from them. If things would have bene better or worse. If you would still have a family or not.

“Can you ask Azriel to fly me around?” Semaj asks.

You whirl around and find him standing directly behind you. He’s looking at you with a wild grin. It’s not like he doesn’t get Azriel to fly him around on a regular basis now.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” You question him.

Semaj scratches the back of his neck.

“My parents said it might be disrespectful.” He answers.

“I think Illyrians fly with people all the time.” You counter.

“He’s not just an Illyrian, you’re married!” He explains.

You chuckle at his forwardness.

“About that,” you start and kneel down to be on his level, “he only has my blood because he needed to pass through the wards.”

Semaj looks at you then. Sad and down trodden. You swear swimming through molasses would be easier. 

“But I thought you two loved each other. Madrugada” He pouts.

“I—well, we just started. I mean we have only known each other for a few months now.” You try explaining to him.

But deep down you know that’s not true. You’re trying to explain that it’s too early for feelings like love to be in the mix. But really, they already are. They probably have been for a while and you’ve been to stubborn to notice and admit it.

“But he came by and said you were his mate.” Semaj says.

It strikes you right then and there. Mate. He called you his mate. Well he didn’t call you his mate to your face, but it explains a lot. It explains why he wanted to get to know you. Why against all reason and judgment he stayed here with you. And why when you expressed your feelings for him, he seemed to understand it completely.

Thesan told you about mates. How fate had a way of bringing fae together. It’s rare, and you can’t force it to happen. But for the fae it’s the deepest bond they will have.

“He said that I was his mate? He used that word?” You ask Semaj.

The little one nods his head vigorously. 

“And then mama told him about Madrugada.” Semaj continues. 

“He knows about that?” You ask.

“Yes. Don’t you love him?” Semaj asks.

When you don’t answer you are met with a hug. Semaj engulfs you in it. And his tiny hands rub your back. Something he picked up from his parents no doubt.

“I’m sorry, I thought you knew already. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Semaj says.

You, confused and still in shock, reach up to your face. Sure enough it’s wet. But it’s not red. You hug Semaj back tightly as you begin to laugh at the whole situation.

“Happy tears Semaj.” You tell him.

-

Amren looks you over like a predator is eyeing its prey. You don’t twist under her stare, and neither do you back down. Of course you should have told her what was going on, she hates being left out of things.

Amren picks up one of the meat skewers and places it in her mouth. You wouldn’t be touching those, they were raw. Made for her. Or caught and prepared for her, they were not made seeing as they didn’t see the inside of an oven or the top of a skillet.

“I knew you were his mate the moment it happened. The whole inner circle did, except for one. I was the one that told him to tell you the truth.” She says.

Your eyebrows meet in the middle, “You knew and you didn’t tell me?!” 

“Sure, I’ll tell the blood bender that she is bound to the shadow singer.” She says sarcastically. 

You snicker, “Well okay, I get that part. But still.” “if he would have told you then, what would have been your reaction?” She asks.

Which unsettles you, because usually she doesn’t have to ask you what you would do. She would know, because the two of you are a lot alike. If she didn’t know how you would have reacted, then neither do you.

You sink further into the couch. 

You’re waiting for Azriel to get back from the village. He was helping out some of the people still here that wished to stay. Helping them gather food and supplies now that they were in surplus.

The sun is about to set. You’ve been nervous to see him all day. Not a bad nervous. Just the kind when you don’t know what to do with yourself. 

Amren snaps her fingers at you.

“I can practically smell it on you.” She says.

Your eyes widen at that, “Smell what?”

“Well I figure since you’re not fae, you can’t really accept the bond. And since he’s not a blood bender he can’t accept your version of it. But tonight is the night isn’t it?” 

You gawk, “Amren, we only just talked about it.”

“You two sparred more than once for no real reason at all. The sexual tension is there already.”

“Amren!” 

“Oh you’ll be shouting tonight alright, just not my name.” She jokes.

You gasp and fling a piece of left over crust at her. She ducks it, obviously, and gets up from her seat. You watch as she throws on a cloak over her shoulders. 

“Where are you going?” You ask.

“I’m giving you space. To do what lovers do.” She puts simply. You groan as she leaves with a laugh. You pick your feet up and sit with your knees tucked to your chest. Waiting will be half the battle you think. You keep thinking it over.

How he knew this whole time and was probably fighting against it. Until he couldn’t anymore. He stayed. 

You start to wonder to yourself. If this were any other universe, maybe he’d be a blood bender. Or you’d be his kind, a fae. And you would have started off on the right foot. A proper love story.

In thinking of how your story could have went your eyes start to flutter shut. Within a few moments, your sprawled out on the couch with a plate tucked to your side with uneaten crust. 

-

Azriel walks by the lounge room and finds you there. Sleeping in an awkward position. Your head leaning against the back of the couch, legs tucked to one side while your upper body is upper right. He think you’ll be sore come tomorrow. 

He walks into the room as silently as possible. He keeps his wings tucked to be sure not to knock anything over and wake you. He comes over to the couch and slowly wrangles you into his arms.

Then he winnows into your room. He takes slow steps, savoring the feeling of you in his arms. But that comes to an end when he places you in the bed. Just as he pulls away from you, your hand, soft and warm, lurches out and grabs onto his forearm.

He just looks at where you’re holding at him for a moment. He can’t really believe it. Or, he can’t actually think it possible that this is real. That you are real, and you are his mate, and he’s your Madrugada. There are a few things this world gets right, and he is looking at the most perfect one.

“Stay.” You say under your breath.

[gavisuntiedboot]

Off Limits

Ok so there was a rlly cute ask in my inbox that was about introducing Gavi to Ramadan or taking him to iftar but it's gone now!!! I literally cannot see it anymore. But dear anon who requested a Ramadan-inspired Gavi fic, this is for you!!! So reader is Arab/ Desi/ North African/ a similar culture.

~~~

"Pablo, as God is my witness, I will break up with you if you don't get away from me."

Was it harsh? A little. But it was the only way you could get your clingy partner to leave you alone. For the past hour, he continuously tried to hold your hands or cuddle you, and you had to push him away in a panic every time. Ramadan was finally upon you, and you could not be more excited. It was a month of great food and company, and jut general peace. It was a time for you to really embrace your culture: long dresses and dangly jewelry, coffee cups painted in gold calligraphy, and lanterns decorating every possible surface.

There were several traditions in your family that took place every Ramadan, a main one being that you and your female relatives would all go and get henna done on your arms and legs, your skin remaining tinted with elaborate patterns all month long. However, since moving to Barcelona (and moving in with your long-term boyfriend), this tradition has become harder and harder for you to maintain. This led to an Amazon overtight order of about 20 henna cones, and two hours of you bent over yourself trying to pipe out the tiniest of designs onto your hands and feet. It was unfortunately during this time that Gavi came home from training, plopping onto your couch as he tried to grab your hand, smudging one of the flowers you had gone cross-eyed drawing. After letting out a yell that probably scared the dogs in Madrid, you calmed enough to explain what you were doing and why he couldn't touch it.

"So it's like a tattoo? I don't really like tattoos ya know." He said, rolling over onto his side and pouting, touch starved and desperate to touch you. You continued drawing as you responded.

"Yeah but they're temporary. And they're brown instead of black. And tattoos are hot. You would look hot with tattoos Pablo."

This elicited a laugh from the boy, his eyes creasing and his teeth dazzling. He loved watching you focused on your sketches. Your teeth was between your lips, tension evident in your features. There was nothing that you did that wasn't entertaining to him. Gavi loved looking at you, studying you, catching every minor change in your expressions or body language and storing them deep in his memory.

Eyebrows scrunched in concentration, he tried to imagine what he would look like with a tattoo.

"Maybe Spanish men aren't meant to have tattoos, amor. We just don't look good in them."

"Pablo how can you say this when Ramos literally exists?"

"Your answer to everything cannot be 'It's hot because Sergio Ramos does it'!"

"Why not? Long hair? Hot on Ramos. Tattoos? Hot on Ramos. Being a father-"

"Please stop. I am begging."

You broke out into fits of giggles, the banter flowing naturally between the two of you. When you finally finished your hands, you beckoned Gavi over. Instructing him to place his arm in your lap, you began drawing on his tanned skin.

"Ay, what are you doing?"

"Proving you would look good with a tattoo. Sit still!! You're gonna make me mess up."

"But-"

"No buts. I had to redo half my hand because of you. And besides, you're always in long shirts, no one will see."

This silenced the whines from the boy looming over you as you bent closer to his arm. Despite a flinch every so often from the cool sensation on his skin, Pablo stayed perfectly still. He brought his free hand up to move the hair from your eyes, giving him a better view of your face.

"There. All done."

A loud laugh resonated throughout the room. On Gavi's forearm sat a small angry face with bushy eyebrows.

"Is that supposed to be me?"

"Yeah. I think it's pretty accurate."

Trying to pull you in, he reached for your arm and you pulled away in a hurry.

"Pablo my hands are still wet!! No touching!"

"Are your feet still wet, too?" You nodded, afraid of why he wanted this piece of information. He moved closer to you on the couch, clean arm wrapping around you, his head resting on your shoulder.

"That means you can't run away from me." He smiled, and placed a gentle kiss to your forehead. Cheeks heating up, you snuggled into his chest, hiding your embarrassment at the affection. You two stayed like this for a while, just watching TV and enjoying the shared body heat. Once your hands had dried, you went to peel off the top layer, revealing the stained pattern beneath it. After some lotion, you returned to Gavi, peeling off his design as well, the two of you once again in fits of laughter at the angry face on his arm. You settled back into him, and he looked down at you.

"Can I hold your hand now? Or are you off-limits until the end of Ramadan?"

You interlocked your hand with his, rubbing your thumb in soothing circles. Bringing your entwined hands up to his face, he admired your hard work.

"It looks gorgeous, mi amor. You did so well." He kissed the back of your hand, straight over the delicate patterns.

"Want to see something cool?" You asked. "Look in the center there. See if you can read anything."

He brought your hands up once again, refusing to release you from his grip for even a second. He looked through the swirls, until the found a dainty "PG6" hidden in the design. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, pulling you into his chest, and nuzzling against your neck.

"I can't believe you're all mine."

A/N - I literally was writing this as my henna was drying and then I tried to open a Barbican with wet henna and I stopped for a minute and was like wow this is the most Arab experience I'll ever have. Anyways, short and sweet, hope y'all enjoy.

[mci-writing]

Warmth (Midoriya Izuku x Reader)

Warnings: Obsessiveness (near the end), implied major character death, reanimated corpse (it’s Deku), necromancy, Deku is the equivalent of Frankenstein’s monster kinda, a little ooc, mentions of pain, descriptions of skin burning (not exactly but yeah idk how to explain it)

Kofi

Viridian irises glance over the form laid before them, a longing sigh passing through chapped lips and landing on deaf ears. Fingers, cold to the touch and tinted blue from lack of flowing blood and oxygen, slide across the small expanse of exposed (s/t) skin, the thumb stopping just under a closed left eye and softly, lovingly, tenderly rubbing the area. It leaves the warmest goosebumps, so warm it should ache, dulling once the contact is distanced.

Whispers of ‘patience’ sound through the air, chilling down to the bone and causing him to pull away out of instinct. The reactions of those around him tell him that they aren’t really there, but he can’t help his response after being told such for so long. For so achingly long.

“Deku-kun,” He feels himself straighten at the voice beside him, a hand setting itself at the small of his back. The thumb rubs small, circles in an attempt to soothe his worrying, “If you keep tugging at your lip like that, you’ll rip it off.”

He becomes self-aware of his habit after his companion points it out, cheeks warming as he quickly lets it go. He wets his lips with his tongue after, teeth grazing over the bottom one as they pop out. He’s unable to stop the awkward chuckle that follows or the way his eyes flit from those around him to the body on the table.

“I’m sure (L/n)-San wouldn’t mind reattaching it once they wake, Uraraka-San,” Todoroki stands near the door, his eyes never straining from beyond the frame as he speaks to them. It’s hard to miss his tense demeanor from where they’re placed, one of his fangs pointing past his lips.

Izuku feels himself sweat at that, a wobbly smile forming on his face as he brings his full attention back to the other members of their group. The best he can manage out is a small “T-Thanks, Todoroki-San” as his hand connects with (Y/n)’s and laces his fingers through theirs.

Silence fills the room again after that. Midoriya can hear his heart racing and feel (Y/n)’s faint pulse. They pump in tandem together, like always. Yet, it does nothing to ease his fears. He knows that spell they cast was powerful, but they’ve been out for a few days now. The only reassurances he’s received of them still being alive was the small noises they’d make as they rested, the way their hand tightly holds his each time he holds it, and the addictive burn he receives with each touch to their skin.

The book of necromancy did say that some spells would be harder to cast for users with less experience, but Midoriya didn’t realize that translated to needing to rest for so long to regain the little strength of power (Y/n) knew how to use. He would’ve tried harder to suggest something else for their escape.

“Oi, Deku!” The rough voice of his childhood friend wakes him from his thoughts, his thumb and forefinger making themselves known on his lips as they tightly squeeze from the small jump he makes. He’s being side-eyed by shades of crimson, but not many would catch the soft worry behind them, “Me n Shitty Hair’s got the ship waiting at the dock. Cargo truck’s outside.”

Emerald eyes meet the fiery shades, an understanding spoken between them that only their little bubble could process. Without a beat, Bakugou comes forward and lifts the end of the slab they're laying across and Todoroki is quick to grab the other end. They load it into the cargo truck's trunk, careful to ensure they're strapped down in the back before Todoroki hops out. Midoriya watches on, eyes longing for the warmth he’s just lost.

~~~~~

The car only holds four people, debatably three if you wanted to argue whether or not Midoriya could still be counted as human in his current form. He was undead, that much he could confirm from the way his body had been stitched together and the ice cold feeling of his skin when he wasn’t within a certain proximity of (Y/n). He was something like Frankenstein, but the context seemed less science fiction and more fantasy. He had no clue why he had been brought back to life, just that he had been. (Y/n) and Kacchan always avoided the question when he’d ask how he’d died.

That’s another thing, it’s always the three of them. Even now, only Kacchan and (Y/n) were going to board the boat with him. Kirishima was only here to take them there and back.

His gaze pans away from the passing scenery outside to the body pressed against his. His cheeks warm as bright a red as they possibly can at the proximity, yet he can’t force himself to move away from the burning sensation of their skin touching. It hurts in the nicest way possible, making him feel way more alive than he thought possible. It’s why he thought he had just woken from a long sleep instead of immediately thinking he’d come back to life, the warmth too comforting for him to question anything at the time. Both of his companions joked about it being out of character for him.

He takes in the low rise of their chest and the serene look of their face. It’s one of the very few times he hasn’t seen them worried out of their mind since being brought back to life. He’s tried not to keep count of their smiles, one of his favorite aspects about them. If with their lips held in a neutral shape, he’s fighting the urge to kiss them until they swell.

He feels himself warm more at the repeated thought of laying a kiss on their unconscious form. He should be ashamed, but he’s been wanting to be intimate with them for a while now. It’s gotten so bad he gets a little jealous when he catches them and Kacchan away from him, whispering between themselves in a bubble of their own that he feels he won’t fit in.

That thought sours his feelings a little, especially when he knows he could never take them from Kacchan and he could never take Kacchan from them. The idea of them moving forward without him, leaving him out, and further pushing him away from the picture he'd perfectly fit in before his current state, gives him a deep pit feeling in his chest that he doesn't enjoy dwelling on for too long.

But right here… Right now…? He could just give them a quick peck and pretend it didn’t happen. No one would know… Unless they woke up from it or something…

He weighs his options, emerald eyes measuring and tracing the outlines of your lips. He has vivid memories of the one time he managed to get a kiss from them, in the dead of night when the only witnesses aside from themselves were the twinkling constellations. He doesn't remember how long ago it was, but he can perfectly picture the sight of them shyly smiling, their face warm, and (e/c) eyes dilated like a super moon. Their lips fit perfectly against his, slated and locked like they were meant to be attached for eternity, and delectably soft like fresh baked goods straight from the oven. He'd press his lips against them as much as he possibly could, suffocate against them even.

The cons would be them waking and beating the shit out of him... Or Kacchan catching him and beating the shit out of him...

Midoriya leans forward, hand burning as he cups their cheek. He rubs his thumb against their skin as his lips finally meet theirs again. It feels like home, his lips feverishly sucking against the plump flesh like he'll never be able to do so again.

He pulls away once he realizes he's being too greedy, too desperate. He sucks in a deep breath, the butterflies rising to his chest as his heart pounds against his ribcage. He can feel the warm honeydew in his cheeks, worsening when his eyes dart up and meet a certain pair of crimson ones. They stare at one another for a moment, but Midoriya can't read what Bakugou is thinking at all. Bakugou sends him a small smile, or something close to it. His lips quirk upward on one side before he turns back to the road. Kirishima is talking about something, but he's obviously not paying attention.

"'Zuku?" The soft call of his name has him looking down, meeting the dazed stare of (Y/n). They're still relatively exhausted from their overuse of magic, a bit of light missing from their pupils. They press their cheek into his hand, the bags under their eyes heavy, "Are we... heading there?"

"We're going to the dock right now, (Y/n). Kacchan's in the front seat and Kirishima's driving us there," Midoriya informs them, voice low as to not cause them any discomfort. He knows they typically suffer from headaches after too much use of their necromancy abilities, "I'm sure you should be able to rest a bit longer-"

"No, no," They begin to sit up, getting a grip on his shoulder and using it to push themselves up. They let go and force themselves to sit up on their knees, getting in a position where they can easily look out the window, "I have to check that... we're not... Not being..."

Their voice trails off as they grab their head, another splintering headache racking their body from the sudden movement. Midoriya is quick to grab hold of them, leaning their body against his. Gravity lays them back across his lap, their face pressing into the fabric of his shirt while they close their eyes. Out of instinct, he presses his fingers against the nape of their neck, slowly sliding them upwards to press at various spots in the back of their head.

"No one's following us, (Y/n). We made sure of that..." He murmurs, pushing their hair out of their eyes. His hand eases down the side of their face, fingers hooking under their chin and pushing it up so they can see him better, "Get your rest."

"Izuku...," They stare at him for a moment, different emotions flashing through their (e/c) eyes. One of their hands reaches up for his cheek, the flesh feeling as if it'll catch on fire at any moment. They pull away too quickly for his liking, the same stricken look reaching their eyes like every other time they touch him and they're reminded of their afflictions. He's heard them apologize to him in the late hours before.

With little thought, he grabs their hand and presses it back to his flesh. He feels just a little closer to being human again at the touch. He nuzzles into their hold, keeping eye contact with them and watching the confliction beyond their irises. He doesn't care about the way his body screams to flinch away from the heat, pressing more into it as opposed to as opposed to running from it. He tightens his hold when he feels them try to tug away from him.

“Izuku, stop. You’re hurting yourself-,”

"No, it's okay," He responds too quickly, leaning into their touch. He presses his ear to their chest, listening to the steady beating of their heart and the movement of their breathing in their chest. The heat isn't as excruciating, simmering to an addictive warmth adjacent to bodies entangled in a hug. It crawls over his skin and wraps around him like a blanket, "Everything is okay..."

He never wants to leave from (Y/n)'s hold, (Y/n)'s warmth, ever again. He doesn't know how he could ever live without it, especially not now when the cold is even colder than before...