#there's no attempt made to soften either side

[demon-of-the-ancient-world]

So so insane about just how well the Dune movies walk the line between making Paul sympathetic and making him...uhh.....everything else.

Because it would be easy to tip it too far in either direction and make him out to be either cartoonishly evil or (excuse the term) woobified -- but I think the key to it is that it's never depicted as being a "but" situation and rather always a "yes, and" situation. Yes, Paul is a very young, very deeply alone person who has lost everything and is under the pressure of thousands of years of genetic engineering and religious propaganda and really never stood a chance against all that, and it's a tragic and heartbreaking thing to witness. That is all true. Also, he's using an oppressed group of people for his own political gain and is about to cause both a horrible environmental disaster and a war that will leave countless people dead, among other very very bad things that you are absolutely not supposed to agree with and root for. This is also true. All those things are equally true, and it WILL make you uncomfortable. And you as the viewer are not supposed to choose a side to fall on, you're fully intended to see all of that at once and walk that fine line with the character, and the chaotic and messy experience of having all those things packed together as truth without it being an either/or situation is absolutely the most accurate way of perceiving him.

[wonder-worker]

"[Alice Perrers] requested that she be buried in the parish church of Upminster, St Laurence, before the altar of the Virgin Mary. Alice seems to have had an affinity with Mary through her life; a seal of hers from c. 1374 shows an image of the Virgin Mary and child, her tabernacle seized in 1377 had an image of the Virgin Mary on it, and now she wished to be buried before Mary’s altar."

-Gemma Hollman, "The Queen and the Mistress: The Women of Edward III"

[ch3rriiii-bunn]

You belong to me

Paring: upper ranks + Muzan x Fem!reader

Synopsis: In different pov's, their jealously turn them a bit crazy

Content: possessiveness, jealousy, hinted smut, choking, fave grabbing, slight blood play, demon reader in Akaza, Nakime and kokushibo's part, kidnapping on Douma and Muzan's part, escape attempt, Muzan grabs you by the neck like that one guy in 365 days lol, arranged marriage theme on Muzans part

A/n: yall know that song by the weeknd? had to write some possessive jealous shit based on that song with some demons! WHAAAA I NEVER WRITTEN SOMETHING LIKE THIS!!🥴might do one with the hashira next🤭

Akaza

Akaza is known to not like his fellow upper ranks. You've seen it first hand when Muzan allowed you to attend an upper rank meeting since you became a demon by Akaza. He hated them all with a passion. Especially the ones ranked above him. With this knowledge, what in the hell possessed you to give any of them your attention?

Not just any upper rank, either. Douma in particular. In your defense, once Douma starts speaking, it's hard to shoo him off, especially given that you're much weaker than Douma is, so you play along to keep your reputation on a good note. You simply smile and nod at his nonsense. You knew Akaza wasn't going to step in since he'd rather run in the sunlight than talk to Douma if you were on your own.

How wrong you thought you were. Once Muzan actually left, Douma become more bold. Asking you personal questions, standing to close and even about to hold your hand, but before you could answer, you heard the sounds of blood splatter on the floor. Your eyes widened at how quick Douma's arm was severed.

"Oh, come now, lord Akaza. I was just joking-" "Shut up for once." Akaza snarled at douma in pure disgust. You wanted to say something, but you felt your feet leave the ground. Akaza had grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder and walked away from Douma while holding you. It always amazed you just how fast he was, but you knew how mad he was. The anger was just raiding off Akaza.

Akaza made sure to be far away from the other upper ranks in the infinitely castle and walked into one of the many empty rooms. Akaza put you down, but then, he backed you up against the wall. You felt your back press flat with your hands on the wall as well, giving how close he was to you. "Lord Akaza, please don't read too much into it. Douma was just being an idiot. " You tried to explain, but Akaza wasn't having any of it.

Akaza raised his brow. "So you're defending him?" His voice rasped as he tilted his head to the side. "No.." Your tone softened and looked at Akaza, worried since that wasn't your intentions. "I don't think I've made myself clear enough if my actions haven't shown it already." Akaza said and brought his hand to your collar bone and rested it there for a moment.

"Demon's I hate don't get the right to talk to who belongs to me." Akaza's face comes closer to yours with his lips now inches away from yours. His hand moves from your collar bone, up to wrap around your throat. "And you entertain a demon like him. Even saying his name from these lips. His fucking, name" Akaza's jaw clenched, and his hand tightens kts grip on your throat.

"Aka..za" his name hitched in your throat. His grip was deadly. You could still breathe. However, Akaza's grip was firm. He wouldn't dare kill his precious demon. It was just a "light" punishment. However, he needed you to learn your lesson and to show your loyalty to him and him alone. "Say my name properly. Or is my strength too much for you to speak?" Akaza smirked.

"L-lord Akaza. Lord Akaza~" you say his mamw twice. The second time you say it, you let out a heavy gasp as akaza lossend his grip on your throat. "You belong to me. Understood?" Akaza asked, keeping that eye contact and tightening his hand around your throat if you dared to look away. You nod quickly, your eyes almost teary from the slight lack of oxygen, and you watch Akaza's lips curl into another smirk.

"Good girl." He chuckled and gave you a kiss.

Nakime

Your girlfriend, Nakime, had summoned you to the infinitely castle. It's her job to always summon the 12 kizuki at the request of Muzan. Naturally, you felt terrified but remained to have a calm once you were summoned. However, Muzan was nowhere to he seen. Just Nakime, sitting there, a level above, and you looked up at her in confusion.

"Pardon for speaking out of turn, but where is lord Muzan," you asked, assuming it was him who wanted to speak with you, but it turns out that wasn't the case. "It was I who summoned you." Nakime spoke, her tone a bit quiet yet blunt. You chuckled and cut the formal introduction since Muzan isn't here, and you can speak freely since it's just you and your girlfriend.

"You do know it's probably a bad idea to summon me since you're taking me away from my work. Search of the blue spider lily and all." You grinned at Nakime and palced your hand on your hip. "I was keeping an eye on you. One of upper 4's clones has gotten closer to you. Haven't he? " Nakima said. You detected slight irritation in her voice, mentioning one of Hantengu's clones, but instead of asking a question for a question, you always knew it was better to answer her first.

"Ah, Urogi, yes. I wouldn't say we are close. However, he's a fun demon to work with. He likes to have a bit of joy and humor on our search," you answered. It isn't abnormal for Nakime to use her blood demon art this way. Especially since she's on the lookout to find the ubuyashiki family in the demon slayer core. Still, you couldn't hide your smile knowing Nakime was most likely thinking about you and wanted to check in on you.

"I forbid you to speak to him. Your task is to look for the spider lily. Not entertain each other with humorous jokes and touching," Nakime said. Her words made your heart spot for a moment and knew exactly what she was talking about. Urogi has always been proud of his sharp talons and would often tease you with them, but on this mission, he wanted to take it up a notch and poked your cheek.

To you, it was a wholesome moment. Urogi was just teasing, nothing different he dosnt do to the others, but Nakima had to see that, and she was furious. Urogi only touched you once in a playful manner, and it was enough for her to use her blood demon art to summon her back to you in that very moment. "He was getting too close to you for my liking and being bold enough to do that. Especially bringing those filthy claws of his to touch my woman's pretty face."

During this entire time, her facial expression remained unchanged until now. You could see her lips form into a frown and even watched as her teeth clenched together in a snarl. She was jealous. "Urogi was just being playful. I wouldn't read too deep into it, love. Sekido is probably scoling Urogi right now for wasting time to focus on finding the blue spider lily." You reassure Nakima, but she wouldn't let it go.

"Come here." Nakime took her biwa off her lap and rested it gently beside her on the floor and motioned her finger for you to come sit in front of her. You did as Nakime asked and sat down in front of her. You wanted to explain further to find the right words to reassure Nakime, but before you could, her hand grabbed your face

You gasped. Your breathing became unsteady as you felt her firm grip, her four fingers on one cheek while the other had her thumb, or rather her nail, poking onto your skin. The same spot Urogi poked at. "I will not allow a man's to touch to linger on what belongs to me." Nakime's voice turned cold. "You belong to me." She said as her thumb nail pressed harder, breaking your skin until blood slowly pours out.

Your jaw opens, and you inhale a sharp breath with your eyes barely open as you feel the sting. You're a demon, so of course it'll heal, and Nakime didn't pierce too deep. It was her way of wanting to hear her words come out of your mouth. You kept your eyes on her and eventually spoke up. "I belong to you~" Your voice hitched as you felt nails nail pull away from your skin.

Nakime leaned in closer to lick the blood from your cheek and watched as your cut healed already. She kissed your cheek and then came closer to your ear and whispered, "That's right. You belong to me, beautiful." Nakime said. Her hand lets go of your face and then trails her sharp nails down your neck.

You shivered until her fingers reached your kimono, near your tits and Nakime smirked. "I should remind you of how a woman's touch feels. So you'll never let another man touch you again," Nakime said. You bit your lip softly, feeling the heat rise higher in your body and your thighs squeezing together more. "I want that," you said, and Nakime's smirk only grew.

"Open your thighs for me and lay back. I'll show you how good these fingers work other than playing a biwa"

Kokushibo

His brother has been dead for centuries. Yet his name still echos throughout history but never would kokushibo think that his brothers name, yoriichi, would leave your lips.

Although you're a demon now and have been for a while now, you could still recount memories you had during your times as a human, especially in the demon slayer core. It was basically a law for any of the 12 kizuki to never speak of Yoriichis' name, yet you just had to talk about him since gyokko was curious to know how humans thought of him.

"Yoriichi has sun breathing. That's the best way to describe why he's well known even after his death. He could kill any demon in seconds. It's quite impressive," you admit to gyokko, and he nods his head, humming in response. Kokushibo had already been looking for you, but he never interrupted any of your conversations when you had them. However, hearing Yoriichis' name from you alone set him off to act out.

He came from around the coner and stood behind you. "Do I think yoriichi could beat Kokushibo? Well maybe-" you said but then saw both of gyokko's mouths open as he looked behind you. Your brow raised in question, and you turned around to see what shook him so much, but now you realized. "Kokushibou hi" you smiled nervously at him.

"It was good talking to you, bye!!!" Gyokko hides inside his pot, probably in another one by now, so it was just kokushibo and you. "Listen, I was just- oh!" Kokushibou picked you up, and then you heard Nakime's biwa sound, transporting you back to his home. You knew you fucked up. You and gyokko tried to talk in secret, but now kokushibo was going to punish you, a demon for speaking about yoriichi but in his own way.

Kokushibo put you down, turning your body away from him to face the wall with your body pushed up against it. You grunted from the sudden pressure but gasped once your hair was pulled back to face kokushibo. The view was upside down, but you could see just how angry he was. "You know to refrain from using that name. Have you lost your mind?" Kokushibou said, his deep voice almost turning into a growl.

His hand had a fist full of your hair, and not only that, his lower half was just inches away from pressing up against you. "I know- I was just telling memories from my human life I didn't think it was a big deal-" "and you actually believe a person like him could defeat me. Do you really think that? Dose his name interest you so much that you've forgotten just who's wife you belong to?" Kokushibou said.

You had a confused look on your face. Is he seriously jealous at the mention of his brother's name from his lover? You knew kokushibo was jealous, but you didn't expect him to be this possessive. "I'm sorry~" This is all you could mutter out. "Do not. Ever say that name. Again." Kokushibou crouches down to your ear, speaking slow for his words to be understood.

You mewl softly, biting your lip as you nod quickly, understand his words. "My name should be the only name said from those lips." Kokushibou now brought his other hand up to your chin and holding it while his other hand is still gripping your hair. Your back arches just a bit more once you felt Kokushibou press himself up against your ass.

He let out a heavy breath with a deep moan mixed in. "Having your jaw broken for speaking his name is the normal punishment from lord Muzan, since you're a demon and it'd grow back." Kokushibou grinds himself against, letting go of your hair and placing his hand on your tit.

"However, I have my own punishment. Just for you." Kokushibo's breaths become heavy, feeling himself get into heat, and he whispered in your ear.

"A punishment where you'll never remember to say his name and only mine. You belong to me, my pretty demon~"

Douma

His "church" wasn't a church at all. You made the dumbest mistake to have even joined this religious cult. Your "savor", the one who saved you that day from eating eaten like an animal from a group of demons and showing you such kindness was just a cover-up for his true identity, which was a man-eating demon and not just any demon, the 2nd highest rank in 12 strong demons led by an even more powerful demon. The realization sunk in, and you made an ever worse choice than the first one.

You wanted to escape. You wanted out. You thought you planned your escape for a week, asking around what Douma's schedule was like so you knew the perfect days on when to leave, but that back fired on you. When you noticed nobody outside the temple, keeping guard and, of course, no sight of douma, you made a run for it.

You felt relieved. No one was there to stop you until a dark figure appeared from the shadows and snatched you up like you weighed nothing. "I caught you! You sure ran fast. Are you sure you weren't a demon slayer before you came to my temple?" Douma said, smiling from ear to ear.

You tried to catch your breath from running up, but your breath quickly turned into a panic. Douma frowned for a moment, "Oh you poor thing. Don't be scared. We'll get you back to the temple so you can rest for the night," Douma said. With such fake empathy in his tone, it almost sounded sarcastic.

Douma continues to hold your body off the ground in a bear like hug. His muscles flexed to hold you firmly so you couldn't escape. However, looking at Douma more closely, you noticed changes about him. His teeth looked more like fangs. His body against yours felt so cold, almost like he was dead and worst of all. He had "upper 2" written in his eyes. Was this a demon's technique? How was he able to hide these features on him so well around his cult members.

"I don't want to go back!" Your voice trembled. You tried to speak soft, but the panic got to you. Douma only just smiled, speaking in his cheerful voice. "If you're worried about being eaten alive, don't worry, you aren't my type of woman to eat, but you are my type of woman to be around. So I will be keeping you since you asked for my help to save you from those demons that day, so it only makes sense for us to stay together." Douma chuckled.

"What??" You sighed, looking at Douma with worry, fear, and confusion. "I don't belong to you, so let me go!" You hit Douma, but you knew your strengths was no where near compared to his. Douma places his hand on the back of your head, making your rest your chin on his shoulder while he embraces you more and nuzzling his face to your neck, taking in your scent.

"You still don't get it y/n? You're mine. I'm going to keep you until your time as a human is up." Douma said, throwing you over his shoulder and began to walk back to the temple.

"You belong to me and me alone~"

Muzan

2 years had passed since you were kidnapping, and you were finally back and safe with your family. Although your kidnapper, known as the most powerful demon, kidnapped you was bad, he could've been a lot worse. So you like to think of it that way. He could dispose of you at any moment, even when you couldn't help him find the blue spider lily, but he didn't.

You're family for owning a flower company, educated on flowers even so that's the main reason why Muzan took you but he let you go when you were of no use to him anymore. The bond you had with Muzan wasn't always about his work. There was soft intimate moments between you two but you knew not to get your hopes up since in the end, your knowledge wasn't all that useful and he let you leave, putting his work before you.

Your life continued to move forward, and eventually, you had an arranged marriage. A soon to be husband for you. He wasn't bad. He did promise to treat you right, give you his money and etc but deep down, you knew you couldn't love this man but went along with it for the benefits and your familes sake.

The wedding took place during the night. Your in-laws thought it would be a great idea to see how lovely your wedding dress would look in the moonlight. You asked to be alone in the fitting room, and you turned off the lights. Despite being human, you've gown accustomed to the dark and toy opened the window, feeling the night's breeze. Your hands slide down your sides to your hips, and you smile at yourself in the mirror, seeing just how gorgeous you look.

"You look stunning, my dear. They were right. The way the moonlight shines on that beautiful dress is just Devine," a deep familiar voice said. You gasped and turned your head to the window and saw Muzan, sitting in the edge and watching his glowing red eyes trace every inch of your body and even smirking at how the dress hugs your hips and holds up your tits perfect.

"Why are you... h-how did you find me?" You stepped back. Muzan came into your fitting room further and made his way towards you. Your body froze, but your eyes softened once you felt his hand on your cheek. His hand was so cold. "Do you think I'd let just anyone actually go?" Muzan bluntly said. That line alone confirmed your thoughts from a year ago. You weren't actually free, and like you predicted, Muzan would come back to you. However, it wouldn't be for the reason you think.

"I don't have any more knowledge on the spider lily. Even after you let me go, I couldn't find it." You explained to Muzan, but he only grinned. "I have upper ranks to do the job much better and faster than you," He said. His words cut a bit deep since you used as much energy as you could've helped him before. "But you can be useful to me in... other ways," Muzan said as his eyes gestured to your body and then looked back at your face.

It's like the old feelings came rushing back. In your own sick way, you missed this man. Muzan is the worst, curel and dangerous man-eating demon you could've ever met. Yet you knew leaving with him was a choice you had to make now. Your mind snaps out of it once you head a knock at the door. You and Muzan look at the door and hear a woman's voice on the other side.

"Um, y/n? Are you almost done?" One of your maid of honors asked through the door. "Yes, im-" you paused. Your eyes look down to see Muzan's hand slide on your hip and even slide his hand down lower, just like how he used to, but you stopped him. "I'll be right out. Just give me a minute," you say in a worry, and then look at Muzan, his lips inches away from yours, and you spoke quietly.

"You can come by tomorrow night, and we'll talk about this. You came at such an odd time. " You rolled your eyes halfway, trying not to let all these emotions cloud you. You turned around, but the second you did, Muzan had grabbed the back of your neck, making you gasp as he pulled you back to face him. "Mm.." Muzan brought you into a heated kiss, making you stumble back and sit in the mini table in your changing room.

"Y/n!?" Your maid of honor placed her ear on the door after hearing a thund sound. "If you think for a moment I'd let you have some random mam in bed with you, then you're more stupid than I thought," Muzan said as his jaw tensed. You pant as you feel his fingers press into your neck and you placed your hands on his chest for some kind of support.

"You belong to me, and I'm taking you back. The connection we share won't ever disappear, so don't think for a second it will," Muzan said, pulling you into another kiss. This time, you kissed him back. His words may not have been the sweetest, but you understood them. He wanted you, and you wanted him. He pulled away once he heard hard banging on the door.

"Let's go," you said, lifting up your dress, not hesitating for a moment about leaving. Muzan had picked you up, and you heard a biwa sound, transporting you to Muzan's room in an instant. Muzan, put you down. His hands made their way to your body, with one hand on your ass and the other playing with the zipper on your wedding dress.

He smirked at you, letting out a dark chuckle. "Now. Won't you let me give you that wedding night you deserve to have"

[lvndosnorris]

i hv a feeling lando looks so intimidating when he’s fucking u. like he forces u to hold eye contact as well, when he’s grabbing your face with his free hand and holding it in place so u can’t look away

anon this made me all 🫠

not once did the pace of his hips fault or stutter, his arms holding himself up fisting the sheets either side of your head. he was relentless, cooing as you tried to squirm beneath him because of how good it felt. but you were pinned under him, sandwiched between the sweat sheathed chest and the mattress, trapped between reality and utter bliss.

"eyes on me sweetheart, y'need to know who's fucking you this good..." his words held an authority that you seemed to crave whenever you were intimate. stilling inside of you he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, finger stroking over your temple before dipping over your cheek, tracing teasingly around your cupid's bow.

lando's hand pinched your cheeks before softening, tilting your chin upwards as he held your gaze in place. it was only then did he drag his hip back, your walls fluttering around his length as he slipped from out of you — much to the dismay of you as you whined, arching your back upwards in an attempt to writhe from his intense grip and get him to carry on.

pushing in he dwelled in the way your eyes tried so hard to stay open, to stay focused on him. a groan left the pit of his throat as you sucked him in, beckoning him deeper inside of you until he was pressed against you fully. with the fear of him stopping and untangling the ball of pleasure that sat in your stomach you forced your sight on his, lando's thumb and forefinger digging into the flesh of your chin as his parted lips teased you.

[nhlclover]

𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄 ! | 𝐑𝐘𝐀𝐍 𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐃

summary: when your brothers surprise you at your dorm, they discover your boyfriend whom you'd kept a secret from them

warnings: hughes sister!reader, jack and luke being overprotective brothers, briefly nsfw in the beginning, couple uses of 'y/n', honestly mostly about jack & luke

word count: 1.80k

The morning sun beamed through the window, filling the room with a soft golden light. You had forgotten to close the blinds the night before and now the warm rays were gently waking you from your slumber. Slowly, your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the brightness. You glance down and see the boy you are entangled with, his body warmly pressed against yours. Your legs are intertwined and his head rests against your chest, the rise and fall of his breath synchronizing with your own. His face, softened by sleep, looks peaceful, almost angelic.

As if sensing that you were awake, Ryan begins to stir. He shifts slightly, his eyelashes fluttering as he struggles to wake up. His hand, which had been resting on your waist, moves gently, his eyes slowly opening to meet yours.

“Good morning.” You say softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

“Good morning,” he replies, his voice husky with sleep. “How long have you been watching me sleep?”

You chuckle quietly, pressing a soft kiss to his plump lips. “Only a minute or two.”

Ryan groans as he stretches his limbs, untangling his legs from yours. He sits up, rubbing his eyes, but you reach out to grab his hand pulling him back down.

"Not so fast," you whisper, your voice still heavy with sleep. You wrap your arms around his neck, drawing him closer until your lips meet. The kiss is warm and lingering, a perfect blend of tenderness and desire. Ryan responds eagerly, his hands finding their way to your waist.

You trace your hands into his hair, gently tugging on the roots, eliciting a groan from Ryan. You feel his body responding to your touch, the heat of his arousal pressing firmly against your thigh. You smile into the kiss, pushing Ryan to the side and flipping you both so that you are now straddling his hips.

However, as they say, all good things must come to an end.

The sound of sudden, insistent banging on your door shatters the morning peace. Your eyes snap open, heart racing in your chest. Ryan bolts upright, nearly pushing you off his lap if it weren’t for his strong grip on your hips, blinking in confusion.

"Y/n! Open up!" came a familiar voice from the other side of the door. "Come on, sleepyhead!"

"Oh no," you whispered, your eyes wide with panic. "It’s my brothers."

Ryan's face mirrored your alarm. "I thought they weren't supposed to be here until dinner!"

Jack and Luke were in Boston as the Devils were scheduled to play against the Bruins tomorrow. You had made plans to meet them for dinner tonight, eager to catch up since this had been the longest stretch of time you'd gone without seeing either of them. However, you were excited to see them tonight and not now at 8 in the morning with your boyfriend —someone they didn’t even know existed yet— buck-naked in your bed.

You swung your legs off his hips, racing around the room to find your clothing that had been ripped off the night before. “Exactly!” you say in a whispered panic, pulling a t-shirt over your head. “What are they doing here so early?”

Another round of knocks echoed through the small room. "Y/n, we know you're in there!" Luke called out, his tone a mix of amusement and impatience.

"Just a minute!" you called back, trying to keep your voice steady. You pull on a pair of sweat shorts, throwing Ryan his clothing you’d found along the way. “Just sit there for a second, I’ll get rid of them.”

You glance in the mirror quickly, flattening down your unruly hair caused by the events of last night. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door. You pasted on a sleepy smile, attempting to mask your surprise. "Jack, Luke! What are you doing here?"

Jack grinned broadly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "We wanted to surprise you! Mission accomplished."

Luke stood behind him, holding a tray of coffee cups, an extra one for you. Despite how sweet that action was, you couldn’t let yourself feel grateful for their presence at the moment.

“How did you get in my building?” you ask your brothers.

“It’s a college, y/n, they don’t exactly have Rikers level security.” Jack joked. “Now c’mon, let us in.”

"Uh, now's not really a good time," you stammered, blocking the doorway.

Luke raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Why? What are you hiding in there? Got a secret study buddy or something?"

Your brothers laugh, both not believing that you actually had a study buddy.

Your cheeks flush as you nervously glance back over your shoulder. "Ry, are you decent?" you call.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Ryan replies, standing up from your bed.

Jack and Luke shared confused glances as you stepped aside reluctantly, allowing your brothers to enter. As they walked in, their eyes fell on Ryan, standing awkwardly near your bed. Jack's and Luke's faces shifted from confusion to realization. "Ryan?" Jack asked, doubt creeping into his voice.

Ryan gave a small awkward wave. “Hey guys.”

Ryan knew your brothers from their joint time in the program. He’d never played with them but spent several practices playing alongside them.

Jack and Luke's eyes darted around the room, artifacts of your relationship scattered around. Photos of the two of you adorned the walls, his Boston College jersey draped over the back of your desk chair. Your heart sank as you noticed the shared look of hurt and confusion in your brothers' eyes.

"Why didn't you tell us you had a boyfriend?" Luke asked, his tone betraying his emotions.

"I… I didn't know how to," you admitted, wringing your hands nervously. "You guys always treat me like a baby. I wasn't sure how you'd react."

As the youngest of four siblings and the only girl among three older brothers, you had always been treated like the baby of the family. Even after you graduated from high school and moved away for college, the dynamic didn't change much. Your brothers had always looked out for you, often smothering you with their protectiveness. It was as if they couldn't see the independent, capable person you were becoming.

Growing up, their constant teasing and overbearing care had been both a source of comfort and frustration. They would ruffle your hair, call you endearing nicknames, and sometimes intervene in your decisions, thinking they knew what was best for you. This behaviour persisted into your young adulthood, making it difficult for you to assert your independence. It was the primary reason you’d kept Ryan a secret from your older brothers.

Jack shook his head, his expression softening a little. "Y/n, we just want to protect you."

"I know," she said, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "But I'm not a kid anymore."

Ryan stepped up to your side, placing a delicate hand on the small of your back. “I’m going to give you guys space to talk,” Ryan said, stepping between you and your brothers. “I’ll call you later, yeah?” You nod, giving him an apologetic look for how your morning turned out. Ryan places a quick, reassuring kiss on your lips before heading to the door.

“It was nice to see you guys,” he says to Jack and Luke before slipping out the door. Once the door closed behind him, you turned to your brothers, who still wore expressions of shock mixed with mild betrayal. "I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t sure how you'd handle it. You can be a bit… overprotective."

“We’re not overprotective.” Jack scoffs.

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief, thinking of at least a dozen examples of their overbearing behaviour. “Are you serious? Do you remember Jacob? My prom date?” you ask them. Looks of recognition flash across their faces, bowing their heads as they remember your senior prom. “You guys kept asking him these invasive questions, like what his intentions with me were, about his previous girlfriends. You guys scared him so badly, that the day after prom he blocked me on everything and wouldn’t talk to me.”

Jack sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, y/n, we just care about you.”

“Care about me?” You shake your head, frustration bubbling up. “There’s a difference between caring and controlling. It’s not just Jacob. You guys almost convinced Mum and Dad to make me stay in Michigan and go to school there rather than let me go out of state.”

Luke’s eyes soften. “Y/n… you’re our baby sister. We just want what’s best for you.”

“I get that, but you have to let me live my life. I need to make my own decisions, even if it means making mistakes. That’s how I learn and grow.”

Your brothers nod in sync, their expressions betraying the guilt they felt around the way they treated you. Jack let out a deep breath of air. "You're right, y/n. We have been overprotective. We didn't mean to smother you, we’re sorry."

Luke nodded in agreement, his face reflecting regret. "We just want to see you happy and safe, but we need to trust you to make your own choices. Ryan seems like a good guy. We just wish you'd told us sooner."

You exhaled, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. "I know, and I'm sorry I kept it a secret. I was scared of how you'd react. But Ryan is important to me, he makes me so happy.”

Your face instinctively lights up as you mention your boyfriend.

Luke pulls a sour face. “Ew look at her, she’s in love.” You reach out, giving Luke’s shoulder a playful shove.

Jack stepped forward, pulling you into a tight hug. "We'll work on it, okay? We’ll back off and give you space, but we're always here for you."

Luke joined the hug, sandwiching you between your brothers. "Yeah, and we'll make an effort to be less overbearing. We just want what's best for you."

You squeezed them both, feeling a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Thanks, guys. That means a lot to me."

As you pulled away, you glanced at the coffee tray still in Luke's hand. "Now, assuming one of those is for me, how about we catch up properly? I've missed you guys."

Jack grinned, grabbing taking out one of the cups and handing it to you. "Sounds like a plan. And how about you invite Ryan to dinner tonight so we can get to know him? I want to see what kind of guy has stolen my sister's heart."

"Yeah," Luke said, nudging her playfully. "Just don't expect us to go easy on him."

You chuckled, feeling the tension finally lift. "Deal. But if you scare him off, I’m emancipating myself and changing my last name."

[josephquinnswhore]

disarmed - joel miller x female reader.

Summary: you’ve been travelling with Joel for months, harbouring feelings for one another. Tommy helps the two of them realise how they feel.

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: mutual pining, fluff, mentioned a few times that joel is still grieving Sarah, jealousy, possession, age gap. Joel is in his forties and reader mid-twenties. Post outbreak fic. Reader had some dirty thoughts about joel.

Note: I’ve been awol for three months. Hello friends!! @katiexpunk Part two > testament to you.

"Ain’t gonna give up on me are ya?"

Joel calls out, checking over his shoulder to see if you're still behind him. You two have been travelling for hours, with the crunch of your boots against the snow that began to fall on the previous evening—the first official day of winter. They needed to reach Jackson before a mound of snow covered the area, or otherwise they would never know how long they would be there in this endless stretch of open space. With the possibilities of being stuck in a snowstorm, it dawned on them; the pressure to get to their destination.

Joel's crooked, uneven, scowling facade did nothing to keep you out or to halt your innate desire to preserve yourself by desperately attempting to make a connection with him, but for some reason, you had managed to accomplish what no one else could.

Make him feel affection, which of course, came with the pure unbridled fear at the thought of something happening to you. A fear he had not felt since..

“Not long to go now,” he murmurs, trying not to think about his past, his voice softening as he waits for you to catch up, he can see you are making the effort to keep up, your legs picking up their stride in an attempt to match his pace. Even so, at this rate they wouldn’t make it to Jackson before nightfall.

The weary look you give does nothing to comfort him either, internally, he cant stop any thought about you, wanting to know what you were thinking, what you were feeling, other than the pure exhaustion he could feel radiating from your pained expression and lame movements.

They were nearly at Jackson, to Tommy, after months of travelling and struggling for food, fighting against raiders and infected, Joel had made it his personal mission to keep you safe, to get you to Jackson. They had to make it today, before the sun fell, they were struggling for rations, between them, they had a can of baked beans left, two decades old and barely edible, it's clear to Joel that you’re losing hope.

“I know, not long, right?” You manage to reply after a few moments of thinking to yourself. The two of you had been surviving on scraps for weeks, you couldn't remember what it was like to eat a proper meal. For your stomach not to grumble and ache in hunger.

“When we get to Jackson they’ll have a bed for us, a real bed, probably a proper shower too, an’ food. Somethin’ for us to look forward to.” He glances your way, attempting to lift your spirits.

A crack of a smile stretches your lips, thinking about hot water, a real warm meal. “I don't remember the last time I had a real shower.”

“You’ll be able to finally wash that grease out of your hair too,” he mutters under his breath with a cheeky grin. He could only wonder how bad the two of them must smell at this point. Hes probably grown accustomed to the smell of his own putrid stench. A mix of grease, gunpowder, blood, dirt and body odour. You never complained though.

“Like you can talk, the stench coming from you is foul, old man.” A playful jest comes from you, one that makes joel smile, before feigning offence, he brings his hand to his chest as he scoffs. “Like you're any better.”

His lips turn into a genuine smile as the two of them share a light hearted moment, something that feels like it had been weeks since had happened – he can't help but admit to himself that.. it feels nice. That he enjoys seeing this side of you, that he could be the one to make you happy.

The playful smile on your face slowly slips into the same tight line it had been for weeks on end. The monotonous expression Joel had become so accustomed to.

“Whats on your mind? Somethin’ botherin’ you?” Joel asked, sensing that something was off with you.

“Hm? Oh, no I'm good, just get stuck in my head sometimes I guess.” You manage to excuse yourself.

He knew very well what that was like, he himself spent a lot of time stuck in his head, they were more alike than he had anticipated. “That’s alright, I understand.” He reassures her.

You can't help the way you feel something for him, noting the way his hazel eyes always softened when he looked at you, his voice soft. But the constant fear nagged you, about the age gap, he was in his forties, and you only in your mid twenties. Did he see you as a kid? Did he see you as a woman?

Joel always tried to remind himself that you weren't a little girl, even with the evident age gap between the two, he still saw you as a capable, beautiful woman. He couldn't deny the way he felt when he was the one to make you laugh, those beautiful eyes of yours and how expressive they were. He couldn't deny he felt something for you, which puzzled him, it was a feeling he thought he would never experience.

The snow begins to fall heavier, and with how long they had to go to Jackson, Joel knew it would be best if they stopped for the night, to try and find some shelter for them, for her. As if an otherworldly god hears their thoughts, a small cabin comes into the near distance. You hope wordlessly that Joel would offer to stop for the evening. If not, begrudgingly for a few hours, at least.

He motions for you to follow him, in the direction of the cabin. “That looks like a safe place to camp for the night, whaddya think?” To Joel, this was an easy decision, he was tired of seeing you shiver when you camped outside, clutching to the sleeping bag for a sliver of warmth, the thin material never did much to sooth your chattering teeth. He doesn't want you sleeping outside ever again, if he had any say over the matter.

“You think it’s safe?” Your eyes scan the area, it looks abandoned.

Joel nods as he cracks open the door, scowling as the door creaks open loudly. He leads the way inside the empty cabin, he does a quick scan of the place before he steps inside, out of the snow. Its a fraction warmer inside, something you can appreciate as you close the door behind you.

“Stay close.” He whispers, keeping an eye out, the cabin was clear after searching for a few minutes, it’s a small area, a broken lounge in the same living space as the kitchen. The floorboards in the corner are starting to rot due to a leak in the roof, some of the snow falling through to the inside of the cabin. “Looks like we're all good in here, I’ll look around and see what I can find, we’ll sleep here for the evenin’.”

You shrug off the heavy pack that had been clinging in the same sore spot for hours on end, shoulders aching dully as you roll them, reaching your hands back to massage the sore spots. Your fingers are cold and stiff as you unclip your sleeping bag from your pack, setting it up in the small kitchen area, away from the corner that has a small leak in the roof.

“This place ain't so bad, better than most places we been sleepin’.” Before Joel can relax, he eyes a bookcase, it's large enough to cover the front door, with one push it topples over, with a grunt, the bookshelf falls securely over the front door, keeping them safe inside.

You look around a little in the kitchen, seeing some old trinkets covered in a thick layer of dust, a windchime, it creates a beautiful twinkle as your fingers caress the cold material, clanging against each other. Going through the draws, you have a look at a faded image, picking it up to inspect it, your heart drops, the image depicts a young family, two parents and a small baby, all smiling into the camera, in this very kitchen where you stood now.

You can’t help but wonder how long ago they resided here. If they were still alive.

“Must’ve been a family’s cabin…” His eyes glance at the photo as he leans down to rummage through the cupboards, finding a few cans of veggies that had been left behind, he sets it down on the bench next to you. “We made out pretty good on food this time. Are you hungry?”

Shakily, you return the photo back to where you found it. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

“You okay?” He asks, sensing the uneasiness in your voice. He grabs the tin cans of food and skillfully pops the lids open with his knife, handing a can of food to her. He nods towards their sleeping bags and they both sit down on the floor, he can't ignore the ache in his back and knees as he stretches his legs out on the floor. He tried not to think about it, sitting here with you on the hardwood floors eating out of a two decade old can of veggies was nothing worth complaining about, compared to the hell you two had endured over the months.

They were together at least. They made it this far.

“Yeah, I guess. Just doesn't get easier, you know? Thinking about it. They had a baby.” Hesitantly, you start eating with Joel, who seems silent.

He eventually nods in agreement. “Not everyone makes it.” He speaks quietly, even after all this time, he still mourns, he's been reminded of his loss time and time again, the image of the family was no exception.

They eat in silence, and you set the empty can beside your sleeping bag, sighing as you snuggle into the little warmth it provides. “Try and get some rest, we’ll head out at first light.”

“Goodnight Joel.”

He watches you settle, a small grunt escapes him as he keeps his rifle close, he leans against the wall. “Goodnight darlin’.”

“I'm sorry about your daughter Joel.” You whisper, before sparing him a glance and rolling over away from him. Joel watched you, the words pierce him, memories of his daughter haunt him, but he can't blame you. “Yeah, me too.” He mutters under his breath.

Joel stays awake, he's too restless to sleep at the thought of Sarah, losing her, relieving the pain and anguish of twenty years without her. Yet, the pain was as palpable as it was the night it happened.

The sun rises, and Joel rolls his sleeping bag, clipping it onto his pack. He notices you stirring awake. “Mornin’.” He grumbles tiredly. He stretches his neck, a loud crunch fills the air. “We should get goin’. I want to get to Jackson before midday.” He groaned as he stood, his knees clicking into place, worn and aching, the cold didn't help.

You wipe the sleep from your eye and pack the sleeping bag up quickly, not wanting to make Joel wait, he seemed pretty restless. Joel shoves the bookshelf off the door, opening it and takes a weary step outside into the daylight. He couldn't wait to see Tommy, he couldn't stop thinking about a shower, and a decent meal. They had been surviving in the wilderness for so long, Joel wasn't sure what he would do being back in civilization.

You pause in the doorway, watching Joel walk outside, his worn boots crunching in the fresh snow. “Just.. just wait a sec.” You wearily call out to him, looking back inside the cabin.

“What is it?” Joel asked, stopping in his tracks, turning to look back at you, a confused look on his face. You take a few quickened steps back into the cabin, pulling the drawer out to find the photograph of the family, before rushing outside to meet Joel. “Someone should remember them.”

Joel looks between you and the cabin, wondering what on earth you were doing. “Whaddya mean?” He asked, his voice gruff and full of confusion. He stands there for what felt like forever, watching as you return with the faded photograph in your hand. He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable.

You shove the photograph into the back pocket of your jeans. “Ready to go?”

Joel looks at you, a serious expression on his weathered face. “Yeah.” He motions for you to continue walking, he tries to push behind the thought of the family as they walk from the cabin. For some reason, there was a warmth in his chest, at your actions, something so miniscule could show the kind of person you were. Perhaps not all hope was lost with someone so compassionate like you left in the world.

It was relatively quiet between the two of you for the rest of the trip, only a few miles, the snowfall had come to a halt overnight, so the snow wasn't much of an obstacle, being so far away from any town, there were near to no infected, nor other people.

Finally, ahead, there it was. They had finally made it to Jackson, to Tommy.

“Shit. This is Jackson?” You ask in wonder, taking in the heavily fortified walls, the men patrolling on the walls with rifles. A haven.

“Sure as hell looks like it.” Joel felt himself finally relax, for the first time in months, even if only for a moment, they had made it. “C’mon, we can get inside before the snow starts comin’ down again.” He picks up his pace towards the gate.

“Are you sure they'll let us in?” You knew Tommy was here, but the anxiety of being turned away was palpable. Joel glances back, reassuring you with a small smile. “Dont worry darlin’, Tommy knows we’re comin’.”

The gates open, and the hinges whine in protest.

“Joel, you ugly bastard is it really you?” A southern voice calls out, as the gate opens, and you watch as a man embraces Joel, similar in looks, if anything, less grey hair. “The hell took you so long?” The man asked, a joyous tone in his voice as he embraced Joel.

“Yeah, were not easy but we made it.” Joel huffed out a laugh. Tommy waves his hand, a brief gesture for the pair to follow him inside. Tommy looks over Joel’s shoulder as they walk. “Who’s this?”

You stand behind Joel, a meek smile on your lips as you introduce yourself. Tommy smirks at Joel. Joel's face reddened, his younger brother’s stare made him heat up.

“Just get us set up Tommy.” Joel muttered, avoiding the amused gaze from his brother. Tommy’s wolfish grin doesn't slip. “Sure thing, follow me.”

The odd interaction does not go missed as you watch the pair, following them to a house that Tommy had organised specifically for Joel. Tommy lets them into the house to look around and Joel speaks up. “We've been out in the wild for a long while, and we're happy to finally be able to settle down for a bit.” Joel explains, looking at Tommy.

“I can imagine. Well, i'll leave ya alone to settle in for now. Were havin’ a get together later tonight at the hall, you should come. It’ll be good for you to spend some time away from each other for a bit.” Tommy jests.

You look between the two men, confused. “So where am I going to be staying?” You knew that Joel would probably want to be away from you, now that he had done his part in bringing you here safely.

Joel's head snapped in your direction and he stared at you for a moment. “With me.” He said, a little too quickly. “You'll be staying with me, here.” Joel’s eyes dart back to Tommy as if he was warning him against some smart arsed response. He looked a little embarrassed.

It didn't take an idiot to notice the glance you and Joel shared. Tommy smiled ear to ear as he watched the interaction between you two. “Alright.. Well you two can get settled here. Holler at me if you need anything, alright?”

As Joel nods, Tommy steps outside the house, leaving the pair alone again. Setting your pack down, you admire the house. “Nice place..”

Joel hums, nodding in agreement, setting his pack down next to your own. “Its alot nicer than where we've been campin’. And there's electricity.” Looking at the light Tommy had flickered on when he walked in.

“You mean we can shower?” Joel grins in amusement at your sudden excitement. “Hot water and all princess, why don't you go on and have the first shower?” The bathroom itself was simple, but it felt surreal to have electricity and running water.

“Are you sure?” Joel nods, “I can wait, its all yours.”

Joel closes the bathroom door behind you, and explores the bedroom, ruffling through the closet as he decides what to wear to this stupid get together tonight.

The hot water feels incredible, soothing the aches in your body, as you lather the vanilla scented soap, spreading the suds to wash the grime off your body. The colour of the water that runs down the drain is appalling, dark brown from grease and dirt. The shampoo is fruity, and a divine smelling scent you hadn't ever smelt in your lifetime. Lathering the clear concoction, you take your time to scrub the grease and disgusting things that stick to your strands of hair and scalp.

Its almost painful to shut the water off, but you know that Joel deserves to experience the hot water too, stepping out, you run your hand over the fogged up mirror, and hardly recognise yourself.

You slip on the clothes that had been provided for you, dark wash jeans and a long sleeved, tight fitting brown shirt. It accentuates your body shape wonderfully.

You look like a brand new woman as you emerge into the bedroom seeing Joel sitting on the edge of the bed. “Hey.”

Joel looks up at you, his eyes widening as he takes in your form. You were even more beautiful than before, you looked radiant. He quickly stood, clearing his throat and he tried to keep his composure. “Hey darlin’.” He manages to utter out, his voice a little low.

Your cheeks warm under his intense gaze, hazel eyes roaming your body. “You gonna have a shower before we go?”

Joel glances down at himself, he now looked completely filthy compared to her, realisation sinking in.

“Y-yeah I think I will.. I can wash up in a minute.” As he looks back up at you, he notices your lingering gaze on him.

Were you checking him out too?

The tension is broken as Joel walks to the bathroom, taking his turn for the shower. Your mind wonders as the water runs, wondering what Joel looks like under all those clothes, if the hairs on his chest travel all the way down his torso, wondering if his tanned skin is the same delicious colour all over. A soft groan echos through the bathroom, gartering your attention, ears perking at the wonderfully intimate noise.

Something inside of you tingles in excitement at the thought, it's a hard thought to squash as you put your boots on. Joel's hair was damp, slicked back, the greying strands on his temple looked lighter than ever. The green and red flannel shirt hugged his torso and arms snugly, the jeans looked a size too small, clinging to his thick muscular thighs. His hazel eyes stared down at you as you looked him over, admiring him, he cant quite read the expression on your face.

Now it was your turn to play it cool, clearing your throat. “Ready to go?” Joel was still trying to come out of his haze as he stared at you, still trying to process the way you were checking him out. “Y-yeah…” He muttered, rubbing his jaw. “Yeah, let's.. Let's go..”

The hall is set up nicely, small bulbs hang from the ceiling emit a full yellow hue, there's an old record player, with vinyls underneath the bench it’s set up on, the melody of an old song echos through the hall as they walk in together, they gain some looks, from people dancing, young and old. Joel is brought into another hug by Tommy as he greets them. “Hey, look at you!” Tommy grinned. “You clean up nice.”

You silently agree, Joel looked as handsome as ever.

Joel's face runs hot as he hears Tommy’s tease, turning a rosy pink across his cheeks. He quickly brushed it off, rubbing the back of his neck as he attempted to maintain his composure. “Shut it, Tommy…” Joel muttered. Tommy grinned as he watched his brother's reaction, his eyes then shifting to you. “And you… look beautiful tonight.”

Joel watches your reaction to his brother's compliment, seeing you squirm a little. “Thanks Tommy. So… what exactly is this?”

Tommys grin remained as he motioned for you both to follow. “It's a get together, we do them to blow off a little bit of steam every once in a while, you know how it is.” Joel grunts in annoyance, not enthralled by the idea of being social, nor in the judgemental gaze of the community folk.

Your eyes follow the couples as they dance to the music. A sense of yearning overcomes you, wishing it were you and Joel dancing so intimately. It's something Tommy notices.

“What, you want to dance, girl?” He asked, a mischievous grin on his lips. Joel's eyes widened as he tried to get his attention. “Tommy…” He muttered in warning, his voice a low grumble.

You didn't decline tommys suggestion. “You offerin’?” Perhaps, if anything, you would be lucky enough to make Joel jealous.

Tommy nods, taking you by the hand as he drags you to the makeshift dance floor, away from Joel. “Of course.”

Joel could feel the annoyance bubbling up inside him. He wouldn't admit that he was starting to become jealous at the sight of his brother dancing with you.

You and Tommy dance, occasionally sneaking glances at Joel, who still looked unimpressed by the situation. Tommy laughs whenever he sees Joel’s scowling face, enjoying winding his brother up. Tommy took his turn to tease you. “So… what's it like travelling with my grumpy ass brother?”

“He's not grumpy with me.” You answer simply. This, Tommy raises a brow at. “Oh really?” He glanced over her shoulder at his brother, who was now glowering at the pair. “Looks real grumpy to me..” He teased, letting out a small chuckle.

“Only cause you're pickin’ on him.” You counter.

“You're probably right.” It wasn't uncommon for Tommy to tease his older brother like this, the more he saw how annoyed Joel was becoming, the more he wanted to keep this up.

“I like him, alot.” You murmur between the two of you. Tommy’s teasing expression dies down, shifting to an expression of empathy. He was quiet in thought for a moment before he spoke. “I can tell…” he glances at joel. “He's got it bad for you too.”

“Thats a lie if I’ve ever heard it, Tommy Miller.” You scoff.

Tommy’s brows furrowed a little as he scoffs as your disbelief.”You can't seriously tell me you're that naive, it's obvious he likes you, girl.” Joel's gaze darkens, eyes fixated on them from across the hall.

“He doesn’t like me.”

“Have you seen the look on his face? He's got this…” Tommy gestured to his own face. “...stupid look on his face since we've been dancin’. And he's lookin’ like hes seconds away from murderin’ me.”

You shrug. “He's just protective of me.”

“And how do you two interact?” Tommy asked. “Like, he dont seem too fond of me touchin’ you.” Joel's eyes flicker down to the way his younger brother's hand held your waist.

“I’m guessin’ you got some kind of plan, then, to prove me wrong?”

Tommy’s face lit up when you say this. “What do you think, girl? Are you up for it?”

A groan leaves your lips. “What’re you thinkin’?”

Tommy smirks, gently and suddenly twirls you, bringing you flush to his chest, the action makes Joel scowl. “We’re gonna piss him off just enough for him to come over. Sound good?”

You don’t miss Joel's reaction, maybe it did mean something..

“Okay, let's see what you got.”

Tommy grins, he pulls you close to him, dipping his head down to your ear, whispering. “You tell me if he gets too annoyed for yer likin’... I don’t wanna cross no boundaries.”

Tommy is an impressive dancer, you admit, and as nice as it is to be spun around the dance floor, your mind wonders what it would be like to dance with Joel, how he would hold you, where he would place his hands, how firm his grip would be.

Tommy dips you, making sure to keep a tight grip around your waist, and his body as close to yours as he could manage without dropping you, Tommy leans in, his nose close to yours. “Bit dramatic don't you think?” You mutter, eyeing tommy. There was a chance Joel would kill Tommy for this, and Tommy leans in, as if he was intent on kissing you.

That was it for Joel, he reached his breaking point, watching as his younger brother's actions grew more bold and more suggestive. As soon as he saw how close you two were, how intimate that moment looked, he pushed his way through the dancefloor, barging people that were dancing to get to them. Tommy’s plan seemed to work, getting the reactive reaction out of Joel, your eyes widened as Tommy straightens you up, the older Miller brother approached them.

“Now you've done it.” You mumble.

“Oh no, what have I done?” Tommy teases. Before he could say anything else.. Joel yanks Tommy’s shoulder, separating him from you.

Joel lets out a low growl, pushing Tommy further away from you. “What’re you tryna pull, Tommy?”

“Whoa, whoa.” Tommy protests, shrugging his shoulder out of Joel's grasp. “I’m not pullin’ nothin’. I was dancin’ with the girl, is that a crime?” Joel grits his teeth together, trying to stop himself from punching his own brother.

“He wasn't doing anything Joel.” You murmur softly, trying to calm the man down, but it seems to only agitate Joel that you seemed to defend Tommy’s actions.

His nostrils flare as he looks at you. “You're takin’ his side then?”

“Hey, come on, it ain't like that.”

His irritation grows, did you really think this was okay? That this was just friendly dancing? “You really think he was just dancin’?” He mocked.

Your brows furrow as you sense Joel’s rising irritation towards you, this wasn’t how this was supposed to go. “Yes, that's exactly what I think.”

Joel lets out an annoyed huff, crossing his arms in front of his chest, this was not going the way he wanted. “He was all up on you and you think this is innocent? You’re more naive than I thought.” He sneers, a low grumble leaving his lips.

It hurts, hearing Joel talk to you like this, and you shove past them before he can see the tears welling in your eyes. Tommy stops Joel from chasing after you.

Joel lets out an annoyed huff, turning to look at him. “Get outta the way, Tommy.”

“She likes you, Joel.” Tommy said, his hand not leaving his older brother's chest, needing him to listen.

Joel rolls his eyes, not believing that statement for a moment. “No, she doesn’t. She was just humouring you.” He tries to push past Tommy again.

“It was my idea joel. I thought if I turned up the heat a little you'd show her you're sweet on her.”

“...what?” Joel's face flushed pink hearing that. “You.. you were just trying to…” When he realised that this little stunt was all an attempt to show that they liked each other, it surprised him, was it so obvious?

“You know I wouldn't dream of makin’ a move on yer girl. Go on now, get her and tell her how you feel before she runs off on ya.”

Joel stares at his brother for a moment as his words sank in. Once it did, he nodded, understanding now that this was an attempt to try and make Joel admit his feelings for you. He didn't say another word as he turned out of the hall, rushing back to the home where he knew you would be.

You felt humiliated by the entire thing, by Joel being angry at you, he had never looked at you with that look of unbridled anger. It was always directed towards other people, the ones that had tried to hurt you. Never you.

Joel’s footsteps are heavy, easily recognisable to you. As he makes his way to you, where you’re packing your things into your pack, tears streaming down your swollen cheeks.

He calls your name, and you don’t respond, shoving things angrily into your pack, you know he’s at the bedroom door, watching you.

His heart sinks as he watches you, he steps closer to you, reaching his hand out to touch your shoulder, in an attempt to stop you. “Stop.” He muttered softly. “Stop packin’ yer things.”

When you don’t listen, Joel takes the pack from your hand and tosses it across the room, your possessions all spilling out into the wooden floor. “What the hell is your problem?” You snap.

“Would you just stop it?” He exclaims, frustration evident in his tone. He grabs your arm, firmly enough to garner your attention. Spinning you to look at him. “Why are you doin’ this?”

“You humiliated me!” You quip, voice trembling.

He exhaled, the warmth of his breath fans on your cheeks. “Listen..” he muttered. “Whatever you thought happened, it was the complete opposite. Tommy told me the whole plan, he was.. tryin’ to make me admit somethin’ to myself.. to you.”

Your cheeks warm as you realise Tommy snitched. “..oh.”

His large hands reach out to cup your face, turning your face upright, so your gaze would meet his own. “I care about you a lot…” he spoke after a moment, his expression softening. “I know I’m not real good at showin’ it, but I really..”

“I really do like you, darlin’.”

You sputter a response. “Tommy.. was right?”

Joel nods, his expression growing bashful as he tries to hide his embarrassment with a small snort. “Yeah.. stupid bastard was right.” He runs a hand through his hair, trying not to stumble over his words. “Have done since I saved ya all them months ago.” He confessed.

His hand runs through his hair again, something you’ve picked up as an anxious tick of his. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

It was a question Joel hadn’t really thought of himself, until now. “It’s hard for me to be vulnerable..” he admits. “I’m just… not really like that.”

It certainly wasn’t the first time he had trouble opening up about his feelings, but he wanted you to understand that he wanted to try, with you.

“Especially with.. the way the world is now.. I thought I shouldn’t get myself tied up in somethin’ that could just get me hurt later.”

The words that went unspoken, you understood. He was afraid of losing you. And suddenly, her eyes softened. “What changed? Seein’ me with Tommy?”

It was an embarrassing truth, one that he had to face. “Yeah..” he agreed, glancing away from you a moment. “It felt like someone was just punchin’ me in the guts. Seein’ you dancin’ with him I felt..” he groans. “Jealous.”

Unintentionally, you bat your lashes at him. “I was so convinced you wouldn’t like me, I made such a fool of myself.”

His brows scrunch together as he realises how his actions made you feel. He gently takes your face in his large hands, his thumb rubs your cheek in a soothing motion.

“Hey, you didn’t do any of that…” he murmured. “If anything I shoulda told ya ages ago.”

With his reassurance, you wrap your arms around his midsection, fisting the soft material of his flannel on his back. He doesn’t resist, although he relaxes from his tense stance, bringing his own arms around you. “How about we start over an’ I’ll do this proper?”

Your eyes widen, looking up at him. “Proper?”

He couldn’t suppress the smile creeping onto his lips, your words make his heart flutter. “Y’know.. with you as my girl…” he murmurs nervously. “If.. if you’d like that?”

“I would like that.” You accept without hesitation, your voice soft as Joel leans his chin on your head, his thumb caressing your cheek.

“Don’t ever try an’ run off again. I’ll hog tie ya to the bed if I have ta.” A soft laugh leaves your lips at his threat, and you raise a brow.

“That right? Maybe I’ll take off one day, just to test you.” Joel’s eyebrows raise, a daring look in his eyes, arms tightening around you as he lifts you off the ground effortlessly, tossing you onto the plush bed.

“Yer mine now sweetheart, ain’t letting you go, ever.” He murmurs against your neck, hovering over you, pressing a small kiss to the soft skin of your temple.

“Mine till the day I die.” He growled possessively, the tender touch was a concise movement, one that contradicted his possession.

Somehow, you had disarmed him. And from now on, Joel wasn’t going to fight it.

[demonpiratehuntress]

can we...cuddle?

Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

summary - Law really wants to cuddle with you, but he's just not that good at asking for it.

warnings - not proofread, wrote it at 23:30 on New Year's Eve, pretty tired from an eventful day. also wanted to get it out before my tribute to Ace for his birthday at 12am.

a/n - fluff fluff fluff, this just popped into my head because i was thinking about soft!law and how much i love him

Law had never been great at asking for anything he needs or wants. He was either too prideful or too embarrassed, depending on the situation. And with you, the embarrassment part seemed a lot more prominent, because he was starting to feel unusually clingy and needy for your attention and affection. It was embarrassing.

He has an issue with outright asking for it, though. He's usually a put-together, calm man who is always in control of what he feels and how he acts. However, around you, his body seems to forget that and his mind and heart both yearn for yours. He wants to be the only thing you think of, he wants to be the only one you love and show affection to, and he wants to be the only one you ever hold.

But he could never gather up the courage to ask you to hold him, damn it!

He would see you cuddling Bepo, and envy the bear for one of two things. One, for being so easily approachable for cuddles. Two, for being able to ask you for cuddles so easily. Law wasn't the jealous type, but he'd quickly learned that when he started dating you, he'd feel and do a lot of things he'd never dreamed of before.

"You okay, Law?"

Your soft voice brought him out of his irritated thoughts, and his expression softened considerably when his eyes landed on you. You looked tired, your eyes were drooping and your body was slumping, and Law had never seen anything cuter.

"Yes, (Name)-ya." He gently grabbed your elbow, leading you away. "Let's get you to bed now, sleepyhead."

You smiled at that, giggling in the most adorable way that had Law's heart flipping in his chest. He was both amazed and annoyed that you held such power over him, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

"I'm not sleepy, you're sleepy."

He chuckled at that, guiding you into the room you both shared. For once, his work went ignored on the desk as he steered you towards the bed, his tense body only relaxing when you were safely lying on the mattress, pulling him down beside you.

"(Name)-ya-" He started, but you were already softly snoring, gripping onto his shirt like a baby. He would never admit it out loud, but the sight was enough to melt even his frigid heart.

He sighed. Another failed attempt at asking for cuddles. He got the cuddles anyway, but he wanted to be the one asking so he could show you that he craved your touch as much as you craved his.

The next time he tried to ask, you were laying in bed reading a book as you waited for him to finish working.

Once he was sick of whatever he was doing, he got up and slowly made his way to the bed, kicking off his shoes and discarding his coat before flopping down next to you. So preoccupied by your book, you hadn't noticed his arrival.

"What are you reading, (Name)-ya?"

You jumped in fright, the book flying out of your hands and settling on the floor next to the bed. Law's deep rumble of laughter met your ears, and you blushed in embarrassment, smacking his arm lightly and playfully.

"Law! Don't do that!"

"I'm sorry," he apologised insincerely, smirking. "You're so easy to scare."

You pouted, "You're mean."

"You love me anyway," his chest swelled at the fact.

"I do, I very much do," you smiled, heart warming.

You leaned over the side of the bed to pick your book up, but when you got back up you were met with a sleeping Law laying next to you. It was rare for him to fall asleep before you, but you knew he had been working himself non-stop, even more so than usual lately. You smiled softly, setting your book aside and thinking you'll find your page tomorrow as you shifted closer to the slumbering doctor, curling up close to him.

Law woke up the next day feeling incredibly disappointed. He had fallen asleep before he could even try asking you to cuddle him. He'd woken up to you cuddling him, but he still felt displeased by his irritating inability to state his need for your touch.

You woke up a little later in the morning, to a steaming cup of coffee on the nightstand. You smiled, knowing that was one of Law's ways of showing he cared. He couldn't cook, but he could make you coffee and did so every morning he woke up before you. Which, let's be real, is almost every morning. On the rare occasion you wake up before him, you have a full breakfast ready for him and a planned speech on how he should not feel guilty for not being able to do the same for you.

"Good morning, love."

You looked up at a working Law, hunched over his desk as he furiously scribbled something in his notebook. Your smile grew, and you slowly sat up in bed.

"Morning, captain."

He groaned, "I call you love and you call me captain?"

You giggled, "Sorry, my love. My baby. My one and only."

He hummed in satisfaction, "Much better." The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips.

You didn't mind much that he wasn't looking at you. He was paying attention to what you were saying, and that was more than enough for you. You knew how he could get, and had learned a long time ago to embrace and accept it.

"What will you do today?" He suddenly asked, a tad bit nervously.

"Well," you began, "Seeing as we are docked at an island and you're allowing everyone to take the day off, I think I might just stay right here in bed all day."

"Is that so?" He asked, amused. "How lazy."

You laughed at his teasing, the sound going straight to his heart. It swelled in response, growing warm in his chest. Your laugh was one of the few things that Law genuinely loved to listen to. He liked the way it made him feel, but also the fact that he had been the one to cause it.

"Very," you agreed. "But it's fun, you should try it sometime."

He finally turned to you, raising an eyebrow, "Oh? Are you giving me orders, (Name)-ya?" His tone was teasing, his smile wicked.

"Hmmm, maybe," you taunted, grinning.

The doctor let out a heavy sigh, before a calm smile tugged at his lips. Pushing his work aside, he got up from his seat and walked over to the bed, gingerly sitting on the edge.

"I suppose I can indulge you just this once, then. Since no one is around to hear just how bossy you really are."

You laughed at that, eagerly shifting to make space for him, "What can I say? Sometimes my captain needs a little bossing to relax a little bit."

He chuckled, "I don't deny that."

Then, again, Law found himself struggling to ask for your touch. He wanted to ask you to cuddle him so badly, but he just couldn't bring himself to say the words. Finally, after a few minutes of comfortable silence, he tried his best.

"(Name)-ya," he started nervously, "I like that thing you do...where you pull me close and hug me...but in bed." He waited for you to say something, but you remained silent but smirking, as if you knew what he wanted but you just wanted him to say it. He swallowed thickly. "You know where...you wrap your arms around me and keep me against your warm body." He blushed at his own words.

"Hmmm, what might you be speaking of, babe?" You teased him, evil grin on your face.

He sighed, taking off his hat and running a hand through his dark hair, "I'm trying to say...I mean I want to ask...do you-can we...can we cu-" He paused, silently mouthing the word. "Cuddle? Can we cuddle?"

Your eyes widened, because you hadn't really expected him to say it. Then you smiled and happily opened your arms for the flustered doctor. He obliged, sinking into them just as happily, a contented sigh leaving his lips.

"Law?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm really glad you finally asked."

"Me too."

And from then on, Law wasn't shy to ask, he wasn't shy to pull you aside and just hug you, and he wasn't shy to show you that he needed to touch you just as much as you needed to touch him.

Congratulations, you unlocked Clingy Trafalgar Law.

[romantichomicide95]

KINKTOBER- SIZE KINK

pairing- satoru gojo x reader

warnings-size kink. slight dom!gojo, fem bodied reader, penetration, creampie,fingering, mentions of marking, slight cockwarming, dirty talk. reader is described as much smaller than gojo. not proofread as usual.

word count-> 1.5k

kinktober masterlist / taglist

"Need help with that, princess?" You heard the familiar teasing tone of your boyfriend, Satoru Gojo, from behind you. You were, at that moment, standing on your tiptoes in the kitchen, stretching your arm up in a futile attempt to reach for the sugar jar that was inconveniently located on the highest shelf.

Before you could attempt to protest or reply to his teasing, you felt his strong hands encircling your waist from behind. "Here." He said, words softly spoken in a whisper in your ear. He lifted you easily into the air, his strength something you’ve always found extremely attractive about him.

You could almost hear the smirk in his voice as he lifted you up, "I love how easy you are to man-handle baby, it’s kind of sexy."

Dangling in the air you quickly grab the sugar. "Okay baby, you can put me down now."

“Mmm, I don’t think I will ," Gojo was, beyond any doubt, a playful spirit. And the way you looked right now, in just his oversized t-shirt, morning hair astray, was enough to pull that very teasing and very playful side out of him.

“Gojo!" You scolded playfully. He merely laughed, turning you around easily, so you were facing him, setting you down on the counter. He placed a hand down on either side of you, pretty blue eyes wandering over your features, before he’s leaning down enough to capture your lips in a kiss. “Look so little and pretty right now baby.” He said pulling away.

You felt all too aware of the situation you were in. His proximity so close that you could feel his warm breath fanning across your face. It was almost intoxicating, the feeling of being enclosed by him, the scent that was so damn uniquely him was enough to make your head spin.

His gaze softened for a moment, lingering on your lips before making eye contact with you again. The electric blue of his eyes held a need in their gaze, a look you were all too familiar with.

His hands slowly moved up from the counter, one grazing lightly up your thigh before coming to rest on your waist while the other tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear. Your breath hitched slightly when he leaned down, his lips finding yours in another kiss. "Shit, got me all hard now," he muttered against your lips.

“I didn’t even do anything.” You giggle, pulling away. Your eyes trail over his tall frame, it was honestly kind of hot how tall he was.

"You’re sexy though," he murmured, his eyes wandering over your figure. “So easy to pick up…throw around,” You were small, but most people were…especially compared to his towering height, but the contrast was something he found incredibly alluring. “I love that I can do whatever I want with you, whenever I want.”

“Oh yeah?” You giggle, your petite hands pointlessly pushing against his broad chest. The fact that he barely even budges at the effort was undoubtedly a little sexy.

“Now, where was I.” He says, his hands find their way back to your waist, “Was I right here?” He asks, his lips lightly grazing against your neck. The slight content alone made you shudder, “or maybe I was here.” His hands tighten around your waist. "How about here?". His breath is warm against your skin as he trails his lips from your neck up to your lips.

"Oh right, this was the spot." He says, his voice husky, as he reconnects his lips with yours.

One of Gojo’s hands starts to wander, lightly tracing up your thighs, closer and closer to your heat. “Now this can go one of two ways.” Gojo whispers against your lips, his other hand going underneath your shirt and gently pinching your nipple. “I can go slow and be gentle…” He trails off, kissing you again…”Or…” he pinches your nipple harder, “I can be rough with you, like the little doll you are.”

His fingers trace along the outside of your panties, a cocky grin playing on his lips at the wet spot already forming. “Hmm, I think my baby wants it a little rough huh?” He says, pulling away from the kiss, those pretty blues searching your face.

You bite your lip, pretty eyes filled with desire look up at him through thick lashes as you nod your head.

“Use your words sweetheart.” He says lifting your chin to look at him.

“Yes Toru, want you to be a little rough.”

“Good girl.” he says, shoving two fingers inside you. He leans down to sink his teeth into the skin of your neck as his fingers begin to pump furiously inside you.

The way his fingers curl inside you, covered in your slick, it practically has you on the verge of cumming already, his thumb pressing harshly against your clit. “Hear that baby, your pussys so wet for me. Gunna wrap your pretty little body around my cock yeah?”

———

“Think I could split you right in half…” Gojos voice sounds arrogant as he’s got you in bed now, legs pushed all the way up as his cock sinks in inside you, room filled with squelching noises as he fucks you silly.

You’re babbling incoherently, thanks to his hand wrapped around your throat. “f-fuck toru, s-so good.” His fat cock is hitting your sweet spot over and over. He’s thrusts are purely maniacal, but it’s your own fault. You wanted this, he’s not taking any chances of slowing down. He looks down at you, so pretty underneath him, your tits bounce up and down with each hard thrust inside you.

He leans down, his mouth wrapping around a sensitive bud. His tongue flicks around it, “So sensitive baby, that feel good?” You can barely reply, barely breathe for that matter. You’re too stuffed full, too drunk on his cock hitting so deep into your gummy walls.

Your eyes shut tight, head thrown back against the headboard, maybe a little too hard. You wouldn’t be surprised if a bump formed in the morning, but no matter. It was worth it, the way his cock hit against your walls made anything worth it.

“Baby, asked if it felt good.” You feel his breathe hot against your face as he leans over, his blue eyes looking right into yours. His hands in your hair and you don’t quite remember when that happened, he’s lifting your head so he can get a better look at you. You’re really trying to keep quiet but those pretty little moans can’t help but escape, and he smiles.

“Look at you babe, fucked so dumb on my cock can’t even talk huh?” He laughs as he thrusts even deeper, he holds it for a moment, looks down to see how his dick disappears into your pussy. For someone so small you take him so well, and that turns him on even more.

“Y-yeah s’ good.” You say as he continues thrusting, your pussy twitches around his cock, clenching around him cause he’s just…“S’ big toru…fillin me up.”

“So pretty’” he says, kissing your lips hard, his face falling in the crook of your neck. “Want you to ride me can you do that?”

He picks you up, laying on his back and sitting you on his lap. Your hands push against his chest, nails digging into his skin as you sink down on him. A whimper falls from his lips just as the tip stretches you open.

“Toru…too big I can’t.” You say and he rolls his eyes, you always say that and yet it fits everytime. His hands grip your ass “Your fine baby, come on know you can take it all.” He can’t help himself from guiding you down him, his tip hitting your cervix. “S-so tight fuck.”

He really tries hard to let you ride him like he asked, but when he can feel every inch of your wet cunt wrapping around him he loses control. He moves you up and down his length, his hips rutting up into you. He lifts you all the way up, before slamming you back down again…over and over and over.

Your small petite hands push into his chest, nails digging into his skin and fuck, he thinks you look so good. Cute little body, bouncing up and down on his cock as your tits bounce in his face.

You roll your head back, your hips rolling against his and his fingers dig into the flesh of your ass. “Wanna cum for you- Toru.” You say, feeling the sensation pool in your belly.

“Me too-gunna cum too. Cum with me baby- cream on my cock.” And as if his words were a command you do so, whimpers of his name as you ride out your orgasm. Your walls clench around him as you cum hard on him, his cock rutting up into you one more time, stuffing you full with his cum.

He lifts you up, watching as his thick, hot seed drips out of your pussy. He watches close, enamored. “So hot when you got me dripping out of you like that.”

He easily flips you over onto your back again, his lips pepper kisses across your face. “S-good every time, such a good girl.” He says, pushing the hair that’s stuck to your face out of the way. “Now come on, I recall you were in the process of making us coffee.”

tagging - @satorizz , @darkstarlight82 , @belfiguevel , @theyallovenayeon , @swaggygurlbae , @223princess

[moonstruckme]

hi! could you be able to please write a one shot with James Potter where he lets everyone know that he has a girlfriend and he's taken but nobody knows who is his girlfriend. And after he falls off his broom during a quidditch match turns out that his girlfriend its the slytherin captain, who is like the complete opposite of James lol

Hi lovely, thanks for your request! I hope you like it <3

Cw: mention of injury, no details/description

James Potter x slytherin!reader ♡ 740 words

James Potter is well aware that, considering his usual tendency to showboat, it's suspicious that his dating life has suddenly become the best-kept secret at Hogwarts. It's obvious he is dating someone. He hasn't exactly been inconspicuous with the notes he sends flying down the halls several times a day (though it's a small miracle no one has been able to chase them all the way to the recipient) and when he wouldn't tell Sirius who it was, his friend let slip to half of Gryffindor house that he'd caught James sneaking out of their dorm room three times in the past week. Soon, it seemed like all James' classmates did was buzz with speculation about his mysterious partner.

James is trying to ignore that speculation now, the chatter in the crowded stands somehow reaching him even far above the quidditch pitch, distracting him from looking out for the snitch.

"Hardly at the top of our game today, are we, Potter?" A snide voice calls, a blur of green blazing past him to lob the quaffle towards the center goalpost.

James perks up, brought back to the game by the familiarity of a good bickering. "Wishful thinking," he calls back, just as the Gryffindor keeper blocks your attempt at a goal. James meets your fierce stare with his most winning smile. "Maybe if I wasn't, you'd have a half-decent chance of beating us for the first time in three years."

Three years, he wants to add, since both of you had been made captain of your respective teams. James certainly isn't going to lose that winning streak because of any gossip. He redoubles his focus, waiting for a telling glint of light or the light buzzing of wings, and keeping an eye on the Slytherin seeker to make sure she hasn't spotted it either.

There's a flicker of movement to his right, and James is off, the ruckus of the crowd drowned out by the wind rushing past his ears as he races towards the snitch. His vision seems to narrow as it grows closer, all his attention on the tiny golden ball, and he can almost touch it when pain shoots through his side.

James tries to grab at his broom, but he's too slow, his hand wrapping around only air. He's on solid ground before he knows what's happened, splayed on his back with a view of the other players high above him, almost all shock-still. Almost, except for the Slytherin chaser in a dangerously fast nose-dive towards him. You hardly take the time to level out your broom before you're hopping off and crouching beside him.

"Potter—shit, Potter, are you okay?" Your hands tremble as they run over his arms, his torso, as if wanting to make sure he's still whole but afraid he'll shatter at anything more than your gentlest touch.

"I think so." James groans, sitting up. "A couple broken ribs, maybe."

"Shit," you pant, your hands moving to his face. "Are you sure?"

"Well, I'm a bit rattled at the moment," he says, beginning to snark, but he softens when he sees you're blinking back tears. "It's not bad, sweetheart. I'm alright."

You shake your head, somewhere between frustrated and fond, and press your lips to James' abruptly. He's so shocked it takes him a second to kiss you back, doing his best to soothe the desperation he can feel in your touch.

You pull back just as quickly, leaving James so dazed he's caught entirely off guard by the light smack you deliver to the back of his head.

"You idiot. You should have seen that bludger coming from a mile away."

James searches for a witty rebuttal, but comes up empty. He can't decide whether to be offended or charmed by you right now, and it's stolen the gall from him. It's also possible that he's concussed. "Yeah," he says dumbly.

You huff, but still squeeze his shoulder as you stand, letting Madam Hooch move in to take your place. "Idiot," you mumble again, stalking towards your broom. "Come see me later."

James watches you go with something akin to awe. Only after you've rejoined your teammates does he notice the hush that's fallen over the crowd, and Sirius, standing well within hearing distance and looking like he's been stupefied, his eyes wide with horror.

But even if James looks as whipped as he feels, he doesn't really care.

[girlgenius1111]

don't you trust me?

r gets into a fight. mapi is not happy.

-----

Most of the time, you enjoyed living with Ingrid and Mapi. It was fun, and you liked that you didn't have to be responsible all the time. You were 18, so technically you could live on your own, but the older girls had insisted you stay with them at least another year. You'd fought it initially, but then they got Alexia on their side, and there wasn't really much you could do.

However, today, their presence in your life only complicated matters. You walked in the front door, on your way back from tutoring, trying to sneak past them, right up the stairs to your room. You needed to fix your face, as well as you could, before they could see you. Really, you weren't sure you'd be able to do enough, but you needed to try.

You were finishing your school, which you did online, but you saw a tutor every week to ensure you were doing alright in everything. There were other kids there that saw the same tutor and they'd taken to... hating you. Really hating you.

You weren't sure if it was because they were jealous, you were living out your dream career, after all, or if they were just mean. Either way, they'd been teasing you for months, most of which you could ignore, as you only saw them once a week.

Today, though, you had lost your patience. It was already dark when you walked out of the building, and they'd walked behind you, cracking mean jokes per usual. You weren't sure why it bothered you more today, but it did. You turned, letting out a string of insults that they were left astounded at. You'd turned back around, heading in the direction of your apartment again, which was only a short walk away, when the girl whose mother you'd just insulted grabbed the back of your shirt, wrenching you backwards. To be completely honest, you'd thrown the first punch. It had been instinct. What followed was a fight you were honestly kind of proud of. Your face didn't really tell the full story; you looked like you'd been jumped, but really, you'd held your own against three other people.

You felt kind of guilty, because you'd pushed things to become physical. If you'd ignored them like usual, they wouldn't have taken it further. Instead, you couldn't keep your mouth shut, and now... well.

Surprisingly, you made it to your room, quickly shouting out a greeting to the older girls before shutting your door behind you. You look in the mirror that hung over your dresser, inspecting your face. Your hands were heavily bruised around the knuckles, but nothing was broken. Sure, your nose looked a little lopsided, one of your eyes was swollen shut, there was a cut above your eyebrow that hadn't stopped bleeding, and you're not sure the one on your lip doesn't need stitches, but you're fine. Completely fine.

You hear Ingrid's footstep just a second too late, and she's knocking quickly before opening your door. You freeze, as her question about what you want for dinner dies on her lips, jaw dropping open instead at the sight of your mangled face.

"Y/n, what the hell?" She asks, clearly making a big effort to stay calm. You don't really know how to answer, but she doesn't wait for you to. Instead, she grabs your arm, pulling you out of your door and down the stairs.

"María. María!!!" she shouts, and you attempt to stop in your tracks, but she continues to pull you along.

"Que paso?" Mapi asks, walking around the corner into the living room where you are standing with Ingrid.

"Ask her." Ingrid says, gesturing back to you. Mapi's eyes fall on you, widening, before she swears, moving closer to take your face roughly into her hands.

"Fuck, Mapi, that hurts," you cry out.

"Sorry, sorry," she says, hands softening on your face. Ingrid is standing behind her, looking furious, and you know you're in trouble. This isn't the first fight you've gotten in, but it had been a while. Your teammates had made it clear they wouldn't tolerate any of that. This was the worst it had ever gone for you, that much was clear by the state of your face.

"What happened?" Mapi asks, voice dangerously low.

"I got in a fight." Maybe you should have answered what you knew she was really asking, but your face hurt, they hadn't even heard your side of things, and they were already mad. You weren't really in the mood to talk about it, either.

At your response, Ingrid lets out a long exhale, turning to go into the kitchen. Mapi is staring hard at you, and you shrink under her gaze.

"What happened?" she asks again.

"The other kids that see my tutor. They don't like me very much."

"Did you swing first?"

"Yeah, but-"

"-Y/n, we've talked about this!" Mapi says, raising her voice slightly.

"I know, but-"

"-no buts! This isn't acceptable, you know that. What were you thinking?"

You weren't really expecting Mapi to get that mad at you, honestly. Normally she let Ingrid deal with your fights, and yell at you, but Mapi hadn't ever yelled at you before. You felt your eyes, really one eye, begin to water, and you look down, avoiding her gaze. It's not fair, she's not even hearing your side of things.

"I'm talking to Alexia and Jona, and you're going to be benched until you prove that you can act like an adult," Mapi continues. You know that this is likely an empty threat, so you stay silent. It still hurts, though, that she just assumes the fight was your fault.

Ingrid has reentered the room, an ice pack in hand, and she walks to your side, tilting your chin back up to inspect your wounds.

"María, calm down," she says, giving her girlfriend a look.

"No. This is ridiculous. I thought we could trust you." Mapi seethes, and you pull away from Ingrid, a flash of anger flowing through you.

"You don't want to hear my side of things? You just assume I started it? That's not fair, Mapi. If you want to yell at me, do it later, when my face isn't bleeding." You spit out, both girls looking startled at your outburst. Without another word, you turn, slipping shoes on and grabbing your keys, before walking out the front door, ignoring their calls for you to come back.

Angry tears are flowing down your face, burning the various cuts they come into contact with, and you wipe away at them as carefully as you can. Your feet carry you down the block, and you're knocking on the door before you can even really think about what you're doing.

It doesn't really make sense; logically, Alexia would be just as mad at you as the other 2 were but you didn't know where else to go, and you knew she would patch you up. You wanted Ingrid to do it, really, but you couldn't go back there now, not when you were so upset.

Alexia answered the door, gasping when she sees you.

"Pequeña? Que paso?" she asks, reaching a hand out to pull you inside. Her hands fly to your face, inspecting your wounds, and she's bringing you to the bathroom before you can answer.

"I got in a fight."

"Pequeña," Alexia sighs, applying pressure to the cut on your forehead, and to the one on your lip.

"It wasn't my fault! I hit first, but if I hadn't, they would have. There were 3 of them, I was just trying to be smart."

"3?" Alexia asks, eyebrows flying up.

"And then I got home and Ingrid saw and she got Mapi and Mapi yelled, and she didn't even ask me what happened really, she was just so mad," you cry.

You hear a frantic knock on Alexia's door, and she sighs, instructing you to hold the towels to your face. "Did you run out of there?" She asks over her shoulder, heading for the door.

Clearly, Alexia knew who was at the door, as did you.

"Yes."

You hear Alexia open the door, and tell the girls that yes, you're in the bathroom. You wouldn't have expected her to lie, but still, you don't want to see Mapi. At least this, Alexia seems to understand, as Ingrid comes down the hall alone, pulling you into a hug as soon as she's close enough, ignoring the blood getting on her shirt. You collapse into her, and she holds you up, hands rubbing your back softly.

"I'm sorry, elskling, we should have made sure you were okay, and heard you out before we got mad." She speaks the words into your ear, and if you had been mad at her, the guilt in her voice would have been enough for you to forgive her.

"I'm not really mad at you," you mumble. She laughs at that.

"I can't blame you for being mad at her. She just worries about you. You scared her, she doesn't like seeing you hurt." Ingrid says, and you nod, knowing she's right. "Cmon, let's fix your face." She grabs the first aid kit, and your hand, pulling you out into the living room where Mapi stands with Alexia, who appears to be scolding her. That gives you some satisfaction.

Ingrid sits you on the couch, and Alexia joins her, both girls inspecting the cuts, and your nose. Mapi stays against the wall, staring at the floor.

"I don't think either need stitches," Ingrid says, and Alexia nods in agreement.

"I don't think her nose is broken, either. Just swollen." Alexia notes. You sigh in relief. No hospital.

They use Alexia's extensive first aid kit to clean and bandage your wounds, holding ice against your face until you push their hands off, insisting on doing it yourself. They stand, then, and look meaningfully at Mapi, before they walk into the kitchen, mumbling about getting you water.

Mapi moves to sit next to you, and you're startled when she looks up at you with tears in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, pequeña. I shouldn't have yelled. Seeing you like that scared me, and I freaked out. I didn't mean to be so harsh, really."

"It's okay," you say halfheartedly.

"No it's not. I'd like to hear what happened though." Mapi says, shaking her head. Ingrid and Alexia wander back in, handing you a glass of water, and sitting down on the couch.

You look between them, realizing that if there were any 3 people who you'd trust, it's them. You tell them the whole story, starting months ago when the teasing began, up until today. Mapi and Alexia look prepared to track the kids down and harm them, while Ingrid looks torn between murder, and giving you a hug. She looks like she's decided on a hug when Mapi beats her too it, pulling you into her arms fiercely. The guilt on her face is evident, and even though you want to stay mad, you can't. So, you hug her back, and she sighs with relief. When she pulls back, you meet Alexia's eyes and shudder at how upset she looks.

"Why didn't you tell us this was happening? We could have stopped it." She says through her teeth. You can tell, though, that her anger is directed at the other kids, and not you.

"It wasn't a big deal, I could ignore it."

"It doesn't matter, y/n, you shouldn't have to handle it. You're never going back there again, we'll find someone else to tutor you." Alexia declares, and Mapi and Ingrid nod their agreement. You weren't going to argue with them. With that settled, Ingrid and Mapi take you back home, after you thank Alexia for her help. They send you right to bed, arguing that you need rest to recover well, and you roll your eyes, but listen. You've just settled in bed when there is a knock on the door.

"Come in?"

Mapi's head peeks through the door, smirking at you, and holding two bowls of ice cream.

"Don't tell Ingrid, it's not a cheat day," she says and you grin. She settles on the other side of your bed, handing you the bowl, and you guys eat in a content silence. Not 5 minutes later, there's another knock on the door, and you and Mapi hide your bowls under your blanket.

"Yes?"

Ingrid opens the door, eyes on the 2 bowls of ice cream in her hands. "Don't tell Mapi, there was only enough left for 2..." she fades off, looking up to see Mapi reclined on your bed, staring at her with her jaw dropped open. You laugh, throwing back your blanket, exposing the first bowls of ice cream. Ingrid and Mapi both start to scold the other, but realize neither of them have a leg to stand on. Instead, Ingrid climbs onto the bed on your other side, handing you the second bowl of ice cream, which you accept happily.

Ingrid mentions something about the training schedule, then, and what time you all need to be up the next morning, and you sit forward, dropping your spoon into your bowl with a clatter. You look horrified.

"What is it?" Ingrid asks, somewhat panicked at the expression on your face.

"I have to go to practice tomorrow. Everyone is going to see my face and freak out. If you two were bad, imagine everyone else's reaction," you groan, already hearing the different lectures you were going to hear.

Ingrid and Mapi chuckle at your panic.

"Remember the last time you got into a fight? And you went to practice with that black eye? Practice was delayed 20 minutes so everyone could yell at you, and Pina got a picture of your face printed on t-shirts." Mapi remembers gleefully.

You glare at her, a look she returns.

"Maybe we can get it on the back of our jersey this time," Ingrid suggest, fighting a smile.

You roll your eyes, going back to your ice cream, dreading the next day, but also not. Having people care about you, worry for you, was a good feeling. Overwhelming, yes, but overall, a good feeling.

-----

lowkey hate the ending of this but im tired and i couldn't think of how else to end it

[zepskies]

Wake Me Up - Part 3

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

AN: Get ready for some angsty, but fun attempts at memory jogging. 😅

Song Inspo: “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers.

Word Count: 4.3K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for some...mature talk lol. Angst and hurt/comfort, fluff, PTSD, protective Ben, tinge of spice~

💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist

Part 3: “When You Hold Me”

Those first few days were the hardest ones.

Marie ran out of paid time off, which meant she had to go back to work. That left you alone with Ben during the day.

He was standing in the middle of the kitchen, arms crossed, and glaring at you after you’d just pushed away the bowl of bland instant oatmeal he’d “made” for you.

“We’re not gonna have this discussion again. You need to fucking eat,” he said. “I could feed you, though I promise you’re not gonna like it.”

His surly, frowning face was annoying you. His deep voice was annoying you. His tall, ridiculous wall-of-man body in your line of vision was annoying you, clothed in the rumpled shirt and sweatpants he’d slept in.  

Everything about him annoyed you right now.

But that could also have something to do with the pounding ache in the back of your skull, radiating forward and between your eyes.

“Bro, I’m on like, three kinds of medication,” you replied in weary irritation. “With what appetite do you expect me to eat?”

Bro? His eyebrow twitched. He saw the pain and tiredness written across your face though, and the way you were sitting hunched at the breakfast bar, arms crossed on the counter. He softened a little.

“Look, I get it,” he started to say.

“No, you don’t,” you snapped. Your eyes closed as the pain sharpened. You lifted your hands to either side of your temples. “You don’t know what this feels like.”

You huffed and dropped your hands flat on the counter in frustration. Your eyes opened, and you looked down at the various healing scars littering your arms. You knew there were a few more across your neck and chest, and even your thighs. No matter how you stood, sat, or laid, it was painful to move your body. Even your face still hurt, with the fracture and bruises.

“You’re not the one who looks like Edward Scissorhands had a party,” you said, gesturing at yourself as you glared up at Ben. Emotion began to rise in your throat. “Or for a reference you’ll actually understand, how about this: I’m the Bride of goddamn Frankenstein. A fucking patchwork quilt.”

Ben hardened again, even with the deep pit forming in his stomach.

“That’s enough—”

“And despite what little you, or my mom, Grace, Annie, or even the doctors have told me, I can’t even remember who did this to me or what the hell happened,” you said. Hot tears welled up in your eyes. You wiped at them furiously and turned your face away.

“So no, the indestructible supe doesn’t understand. You literally can’t!” You pushed away from the counter and did your best not to lose your balance when a wave of vertigo hit you.

Ben started toward you, but you held up a hand against him.

“Just leave me the hell alone,” you muttered.

It wasn’t the first time you’d ever said that to him, but somehow, this one cut into him worse than the last.

Over the next several weeks, you did begin to heal from your injuries. Your doctor even noted that you were healing better than she expected. Bruises faded, wounds slowly became scars, some of their stitches removed, and with the right topical medication, a couple of them began to disappear.

The memories remained—at least for Ben. Finding you in that dark, disgusting place, breaking your chains, seeing how thoroughly that piece of shit had worked you over…

It still made him angry at times. He’d broken a couple of mugs, and one near-empty beer bottle. (You’d only caught him once, though he’d given you some bullshit excuse as to why.)

Your memory, on the other hand, still didn’t return.

And you weren’t an easy patient. That episode in the kitchen wasn’t the first, nor was it the last. Often the pain made you crabby and irritable, whenever your medication wore off. The head injury was also causing vast mood swings that Ben could barely keep up with.

It was all he could do to stop himself from snapping back at you at times (and sometimes he failed). He wasn’t exactly Mr. Rogers.

Marie was the only buffer. At least, when she was home. On more than one occasion, she’d had to try and diffuse the tension.

She was working during the day though, which of course, left you with Ben.

You were prone to headaches and dizziness, so he was careful with you, more than he’d ever been. You were starting to notice how he sometimes had to correct himself before he touched you, or forced himself to be deliberately slow when he helped you. 

Your mom had also been doting on you, laying out your clothes, brushing your hair, trying her best to cook for the three of you in the evening. Apparently, she’d been taking lessons, though she still couldn’t cook for shit. Ben often suggested takeout, since he was also no “Betty fucking Crocker,” in his own words.

Still, it was a foreign feeling to be taken care of. It often left you unbalanced, even after your vertigo settled, or your headaches eased.

You considered it while you and Ben were channel surfing together from opposite ends of the couch in the living room. Your mom had just given you a blanket to cover your shoulders, before she went off to water your potted plants on the balcony for you. It was a Saturday, so she had the day off work.

You watched her go with a measure of disbelief.

“Look at Mother Theresa go,” you remarked. “You’d think they replaced my mom with one of the Stepford Wives.”

Ben snorted, because he actually knew the movie you were talking about. You’d forced him to watch it with you a few months ago, mostly to tease him.

“She’s never babied me this much in my life,” you said. “Not even when I was still old enough to be babied.”

Instead of commiserating with you, Ben just sighed, shaking his head a little. He glanced away from the History Channel on the screen to shoot you a glance.

“Maybe you should cut your mom some fucking slack,” he said. “She’s doing a hell of a lot for you. Even more than I am.”

You raised a brow at him. While you had a feeling that wasn’t so easy for him to admit, something about his words annoyed you.

“You clearly don’t know her like I do,” you said.

Your childhood had been no picnic. While you didn’t necessarily blame your mom (anymore) for staying with your father when you were a kid, you had never truly been a child. Your self-imposed job had been to protect your sister’s childhood, and sometimes, your mother too.

Ben gave you a more direct look.

“I know plenty,” he said.

And in his eyes, you saw that he did know something. Perhaps too much. You gathered the throw blanket closer around your body and sank further into your side of the couch.

The last thing you wanted to talk about was your messed up childhood, let alone your father. You couldn’t even remember his death, though Marie told you that you had been there. And so had Ben.

You snuck a look at him while his attention had returned to the TV. He’d settled on Ice Road Truckers. You weren’t impressed.

“Ugh. Can we watch something else?” you asked. “Something funny maybe, like How I Met Your Mother?”

Ben shot you a look. “Sounds like a chick show.”

“Not true! It has universal appeal,” you argued. Slowly you raised yourself from your corner of the couch, grimacing just a bit as it disturbed the delicate equilibrium of your still-fractured skull. It was healing, but that, of course, would take the most time. Your headaches would turn into migraines if you weren’t careful.

Ben knew that full well as he watched you move towards him across the couch. He couldn’t help but reach out a hand to steady you by your arm. You gifted him with a smile and grabbed onto him.

“Please?” you implored.

Ben tried to remain unaffected, but that smile of yours was endearing. Plus, it wasn’t often that you willingly reached out to him, touched him.

“I’ll do you one better,” he said, turning off the TV with the remote. You gave him a curious look. He turned to you with a smile.

“Let’s go for a ride.”

Of course this man would have a Benz, you thought. The car was black and sleek with beige interior, and it was both comfortable and decked out with all the modern bells and whistles.

You wondered if he knew what half of these buttons did as you gazed across the dashboard, but the path of your eyes continued until you settled on the man himself. Ben was casually dressed in a burgundy sweater and dark brown slacks, a silver Rolex on his wrist. He had one hand casually on the wheel and the other resting in his lap.

Part of you itched to take his hand, but you decided against it. You could admit, if only to yourself, that you were warming up to him.

Maybe you even liked him.

You knew you didn’t always make it easy, but he had been as patient and gentle as he could be with you, for a man who clearly wasn’t used to being either for anyone.

Despite his gruff exterior, however, you knew he had to care about you to put up with all this. It made you more willing to trust him…and even more curious about him.

“What’s my favorite color?” you asked.

Ben gave you a furrowed look. “What?”

You crossed your arms over your blouse.

“We’ve supposedly been together for a year,” you reasoned. “You should know what my favorite color is.”

He shook his head in disbelief.

“Come on,” you nudged his arm, trying to get him to smile. You succeeded, just a little.

“I don’t know…blue,” he guessed. Your mouth fell open in shock.

“How do you not know my favorite color’s red?” you said. “That’s the most basic thing ever.”

“What are you, five years old? Who fucking cares?” he said, rolling his eyes.

“I do!” you said. “Well, fine, Mr. Grump. When’s my birthday?”

With another shake of his head, he did correctly answer that question, at least.

“What’s my favorite food?” you asked.

“What’s with the goddamn quiz?” he retorted.

“I’m seeing how well you actually know me,” you countered. “Come on. Impress me.”

Ben slowed to a stop at a busy intersection. He’d been trying to jog your memory by passing certain landmarks he thought you might recognize, like the grocery store you two always shopped at, or the park where you liked to go for walks. So far, you seemed disinterested in the sights and more interested in grilling him.

Despite his longsuffering sigh, he had to wrack his brain in order to come up with something for you.

“The Beatles are your favorite band. Specifically the Abbey Road album,” he said. 

That didn’t exactly answer your earlier question, but…he wasn’t wrong. 

“Okay, you get a point there,” you said.

“And you fucking love Christmas,” he said, somehow with both annoyance and fondness. “Tacky as hell, with the…the ribbons, and the red flowers, and the jingle balls, and whatever the fuck else you can get your hands on. You love that shit. Because when you were a kid, that was the only time of the year your family got any peace.”

You were smiling at his description, but you sobered when he got to that last bit. Ben met your gaze. 

“I know that you’ve had three boyfriends before me,” he said. Then, a smirk grew across his face. “But I’m the only one who’s made you come. Every time. Like a goddamn faucet.”

You gaped as your face grew red with a hot blush. “Excuse me—”

“You claim to like getting taken from behind the best. And you do. You’re all too happy to get bent in half for me. Hair pulling, ass-slapping, the whole sticky nine yards,” he continued, with an even fonder gleam of memory in his eyes. His hands caressed the leather wheel of his car, long fingers flexing.

“But you actually like it better when you can see my face, watch me work. I don’t blame you,” he added, smiling. “I mean, if there was an Oscar for laying it the fuck down, I would’ve taken that shit year after year. Would’ve beat out Bert Reynolds by a fucking landslide.”

You thought you were about to combust, whether from indignation, or straight up embarrassment, you didn’t know. (And you were going to ignore the little tremble of heat between your legs.)

But just as you were about to blow your top, figuratively speaking, Ben’s expression became more serious when his gaze returned to you.

“I know that you’ve had to take care of yourself. And that you’ve been alone all your life,” he said. Then a slight pause, before his attention went back to the road. “That’s something you and I have in common.”

The light turned green. Your anger and embarrassment settled, somewhat, into contemplation. You didn’t know what to make of this man.

He was infuriating, with all kinds of audacity. He was crass, and at times, he grated on your very last nerve.

But somehow, he knew you. He seemed to know the parts of you that you didn’t even want to know.

Sensing your angry gaze on the side of his face, he turned to you with a devil-may-care grin.

“You hungry?” he asked.

“Ben, I’m not dressed for this,” you said, leaning in close to whisper to him.

He’d taken you to a nice steakhouse for dinner, on the even more affluent side of town. You still couldn’t believe you’d moved out of New York City to Scarsdale, of all places.

Ben wrapped an arm around your waist and guided you closer, enough for you to feel his body heat.

“You’re just right,” he looked down on you with a teasing wink. It made you blush, despite yourself, with a small smile.

You went with him to a secluded booth in the back, by his request with the hostess. They seemed to know him, so maybe he was a regular. Or more likely, both of you were regulars. This place was only vaguely familiar, but when you saw the menu, you knew you were going to get the salmon.

Ben snorted when you said so.

“Yeah, that’s what you always get,” he said.

He smiled though—at the fact that this little outing was helping you make progress after all.

He didn’t need the menu either. He always ordered the dry-aged porterhouse steak. You couldn’t drink on the medication you were on, but he ordered a glass of bourbon for himself.

When the meal eventually came out, you glanced at his enormous plate with wide eyes. That had to be the biggest damn steak you’d ever seen, along with a huge loaded baked potato and a side of broccoli. You doubted the greens would do all that much for him, nutrition-wise. 

“Whoa. Did they cut up a stegosaurus back there?” you quipped.

Ben chuckled. He’d actually missed your sense of humor, no matter how dumb it was sometimes. He unwrapped the steak knife they gave him from his napkin and started to carve a big piece.

You raised your brows, but shifted your attention to your fish and mashed potatoes. It was delicious. Like melt-in-your-mouth good, and you weren’t sure fish was supposed to be “melty.” No wonder you two liked coming here.

But then, your thoughts were entirely derailed.

Hearing the sound of his knife hitting the plate, carving into the meat—it struck a discordant note in your mind. You looked over, and the sharp, silvery gleam of it caused a vision to flash across your eyes…

Of a blade sliding against your skin, over and over. Along with questions. The same questions being asked of you, over and over.

You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

“Tell me!” a man demanded. “Give me something.”

He grabbed your face, squeezed your neck until you choked on blood and spit.

“Hey!” a more familiar voice cut through it all. “Come on, sweetheart. Answer me.”

You blinked and caught yourself mid-gasp, staring into the deep green of Ben’s eyes.

Your head was resting on his shoulder, his hand pressed to the side of your cheek, which stung slightly, as if he’d had to try and wake you. His arm was wrapped around your waist in the booth.

He was gentle in sliding your hair away from your face, but his own was hard and almost angry, as his brows were knitted together. His gaze then traveled across the room, and you realized that there were other people in the restaurant now watching you and Ben. Even the servers stopped what they were doing at the sound of his shout.

He gave them all a pointed glare.

“What? Nothing to fucking see here,” he snapped. Most of them were wise enough to turn away, back to their meals and conversation. Ben focused on you as you caught your breath. You were finally able to support yourself, though you stayed leaning on his shoulder. He wasn’t about to let you go either, until he got some answers.

“What the hell happened?” he asked. You frowned at his gruff tone, until you met his eyes. Somehow, you could see that there was worry there.

You glanced down, and you closed your eyes when you saw it. You pressed your face into his arm to steady yourself.

“The uh…the knife,” you whispered. “It made me see something…remember something.”

“What did you remember?” he asked quickly. You sucked in a shuddering breath, squeezing your eyes shut tighter.

“Nothing good,” you whispered.

You felt him pause. You heard the shuffle of silverware, a thump on the table. Then his hand came up and cupped your cheek.

“It’s okay. I put it away,” he said.

Tears burned behind your eyelids, and you buried your face harder against his chest. At this point, it wasn’t just about seeing the knife. It was knowing that whatever had happened to you, it had truly been hell. Unlike anything you’d ever been through before.

“You want to go home?” came Ben’s voice, deep and steady in your ear.

You sniffed and nodded, as your tears seeped into the fabric of his sweater. He rubbed your back, holding you more securely.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Unfortunately, the episode at the restaurant led you to a migraine. Ben carried you to the master bedroom and laid you down, helped you undress down to your underwear, and gave you a shirt you liked to sleep in. He turned all the lights off and made sure the curtains were closed tight.

Marie brought you your pain medication with a glass of water. Ben hoped there was enough in your stomach that the pills wouldn’t make you nauseous as well, like they occasionally did.

After you took the meds, you curled up on the bed and closed your eyes tightly, trying not to whimper like a child. You’d dealt with pain before; that was nothing new. But this was getting ridiculous. 

Ben gave Marie a certain look. “I’ve got it from here.”

She gazed at you with sympathetic tears in her eyes, but she nodded and touched his arm.

“If you need anything, just call for me,” she whispered.

Ben nodded, but he closed the door behind her and began by taking off his watch, then his shoes, pants, and sweater. He changed into a pair of sweatpants and a loose shirt.

You were too busy hugging your pillow and pressing your face into it. You didn’t realize he was still with you until the bed dipped behind you.

Ben turned you around and gathered you into his arms. You inhaled sharply, but then you clung to him. His chest and middle were warm, a bit unnaturally so.

“You’re hot,” you muttered, splaying a hand against his chest. “Like a radiator.”

Ben quirked a smile. “Yeah, you tend to complain about that.”

You shook your head and pressed yourself closer to him. “Not today.”

He wiped the tears from your cheek and laid a kiss on your forehead. He held you that way for a while, just silence and the sound of your breathing covering the room. Eventually, the pain medication began to kick in, helping to ease your pounding skull.

You pulled back enough to see Ben’s face. He was still awake, but he opened his eyes and met yours in the dim light. You reached up and touched his bearded cheek, hesitantly.

“Why can’t I remember?” you asked, in a broken voice.

Ben’s brows furrowed. He curled his hand around yours and let out a breath.

“I don’t know,” he said, but all he wanted was for this to be over.

“I could take this from you,” he said. “What’s the big fucking deal about a blood transfusion?”

Your fingers stilled against his cheek. Your tearful eyes averted from his, but you weren’t as opposed to the idea as you were before.

“The last time, it healed me?” you asked.

“Within the hour,” he said. His hand tightened a fraction on yours. “It’ll be like it never happened. And your memories could even come back.”

You sighed, briefly closing your eyes. Your hand fell from his cheek, but you nodded.

“Okay. I’ll think about it,” you said.

Ben’s frown remained, but at least it was a step in the right direction. He took your chin and slowly tilted your face up to his. You stared up at him with shining eyes. He didn’t like the pain he still saw there, but he did like the way you glanced down at his lips.

He took a chance, and he leaned down to meet you with a kiss. What first was a gentle touch, soon became heady as your hand slid up his arm and into his hair. He brought you flush against him and deepened the kiss, when his tongue swept past your lips and brushed against yours. You welcomed him in with a surprised moan.

He hadn’t tasted you in so damn long, it was like indulging a craving he’d been denying himself. It was even harder to slow down and ease away from your lips.

You rested your forehead against his chest afterward.

“Wow,” you breathed. “Okay.”  

Ben chuckled. But unlike the movies, a kiss didn’t break the spell. You were his, but not completely. 

He wanted nothing more than to show you how much you could be…but your body was still weak. He would have to continue protecting you, even from himself. 

“I want to stay here tonight,” he said. 

Despite his earlier thoughts, he didn’t think he could take one more night of not being with you in this bed. He could control himself. He just wanted to make sure you were all right, and safe with him.

It took you a moment to decide, but you nodded. 

“You can stay,” you agreed, with a more teasing smile. “I don’t think your old man back can handle the couch anymore.”

He snorted in amusement. There was some more of your sense of humor peeking through. 

Meanwhile, you still weren’t totally convinced that him sleeping in the bed with you was a good idea. A good part of you craved his nearness, and how he made you feel safe…but you also weren’t sure if you were ready to continue being so vulnerable with him. 

Just when you were about to put some distance here between you and tell him to stay on his side, Ben rolled you back around so that your back was pressed to his chest. He slid a warm, strong arm around your waist. His lips pressed to your bare shoulder. The sleep shirt you wore (one of his old shirts) had ridden down your arm.

“Just relax,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

And you actually believed it.

You felt comfortable and secure in his embrace. Soon enough, you relaxed into him.

Sleep wasn’t easy, but you got there in time. It even lasted for a while.

Just not long enough.

In your dreams, there were flashes of things that didn’t make sense. They were jumbled together like white noise on a TV, occasionally screeching with color, and mostly red with blood.

You woke up shaking and sweating.

Ben was a light sleeper at best. He was startled awake in confusion, disturbed by how you had been tossing and turning and making sounds of distress. He turned toward you and moved his arm to make room for you, but he decided he would let you come to him this time.

You didn’t disappoint him. You reached for him and buried your face in the crook of his neck for a while, trying to ground yourself in him. He held you and rubbed your back until you calmed down.

When you pulled away slightly, and spoke his name in the dark, Ben looked into your eyes. For a moment, he could’ve sworn you were there. The real you.

“Thanks for staying with me,” you whispered.

Ben was disappointed. This wasn’t you remembering. But at least, this was you being you, thanking a man like him.

He just nodded and guided you back into his arms. You let him hold you for the rest of the night. 

AN: So close, but yet so far. 🥲

But just wait for the last part...

Next Time:

You brushed your fingers over that picture in wonder. You didn’t remember that day, even though you were sure you must have been there…

It was so odd to see so much of your life in pictures, yet it was all still so fuzzy, or entirely blank in your mind.

You paused, blushing once again when you saw the picture of you getting out of the shower with the towel barely wrapped around your body. Why the hell would this be in a photo album?

You quickly moved on. Though you stopped next at a picture of you and Ben in what looked like a dark nightclub. The way he was holding you, looking at you like he was ready to devour you, and the way you were looking up at him, with a smile that said he’d better damn well try…

It made a sharp pain lance behind your eyes.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 4 (Finale!)

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD/Series Tag List (Part 1):

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@mrsjenniferwinchester @lyarr24 @xoxovienna @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28

@nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022

@emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @theonlymaninthesky

@kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun

@lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420

@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx

[pettydollie]

˚♡ ⋆｡˚ my girl tf?

summary: bakugou's friends think you're just a joke wc: 1.3k

"morning, bakugou-kun!"

katsuki's friend left a friendly slap his back as greeting. he simply nods in response as he entered the classroom with people crowding around him. his gaze softens as he sees you sitting at your desk going over notes.

you look so calm and sweet. that's something he loves about you. your aura. you're always gentle and it just makes katsuki love you even more. the two of you were in an established relationship as of last friday where he asked you to be his girlfriend.

but since then, nothing had really changed. except now, he gets to kiss you and hold your hand like a lovesick puppy. he gets to call you "baby" and "cutie", names that he refrained from calling you when you were just friends.

you nod your head unconsciously as your eyes scan the page in front of you. you had headphones in, understandably as bakugou's friends were very ehm loud.

the only thing that hadn't been discussed yet was how you felt about school. does he get to show you off? should he pretend you're just friends? he decides for now, he'll play dumb and act like your close friend.

he walks over to his desk, sits down, and leans forward to tap you on your cheek with his finger. you grin, turning around and pulling off your headphones. "mornin'" he greeted, forcing himself not to wink at you as his friends were watching.

"hey," you spoke softly. GOD YOUR VOICE IS SO CUTE. he taps your cheek again. "i gotta ask you somethin'." he muttered, staring into your eyes. you nodded, edging him to go on. "how d'ya feel about all this? d'ya want me to pretend we're just friends or.. those idiots won't bother ya, i promise-"

you smile at his thoughtfulness. you brush his cheek with your thumb. "no, i don't care." you kissed where your thumb was rubbing on his face. "WHAT?"

you and bakugou's heads turned simultaneously to see a group of people jaw-dropped at your previous action. "what's wrong with you idiots now?" katsuki frowned.

"she just- how- why did she.. i-" the group of boys stuttered.

"who the hell are you?" everyone exclaimed. you were about to awkwardly answer when bakugou rolled his eyes and scoffed.

"my girl, the fuck?"

the boys standing all shared a look. “ohhh okay..” some winked while others laughed dryly. they walked to their seats so class could begin.

“i wasn’t expecting that response to be honest.” you added, playing with his fingers. he nodded. “me either.”

you turned around for a moment, grabbing something before handing katsuki your notes. "did you study?" "no." "why not?" "'cus i wanna study with you"

you smiled sweetly and turned around as aizawa begun the class.

the class ended and bakugou abruptly grabs your backpack and books. he slings your bag over his shoulder and holds your books on one arm, the other pulling you to stand up before wrapping it around your shoulder. you formed a little upside down smile and lean into his side. "thank you." you whisper shyly.

you two walked through the halls, people’s eyes falling on you. you feel judged as girls whisper and shared mean giggles. you were so used to being invisible and katsuki was highly aware of that. he squeezes your arm as a way to tell you “ignore them”

bakugou leads you to the cafeteria where he brings you to the popular table. it’s cliche, but these weren’t nice popular kids. they scan you up and down and the only reason they play nice is because you were with bakugou.

"sooo, are you new here?" a girl asks boredly, not even looking at you and attempts to puts up a kind facade. the girl sitting across from her shakes her head, "that's l/n, i have her in aizawa's."

"ohhh okayy," the girl drags out, not really caring as she eyes bakugou shamelessly. he made an ick face and scooches closer to you to wrap his arm around you.

the perv you recognized to be mineta moves near katsuki and grabs his shoulder, causing bakugou to turn around, about to throw hands.

“you’ll win the bet, i’ll cheer you on.” that fool whispers not so quietly to katsuki with stars in his eyes. “what’s the prize anyway-“

katsuki shoves him off immediately. “there's no bet." he huffs, going back to eating.

"wha?" people look up curiously. "you heard me!" bakugou barks in reply, his eyes filling with annoyance. you just sit there quietly like you always do. you're not really sure what to do in this situation anyhow. do you calm him down (which you dont know how to do), run away, yell at them???

the table starts laughing, shocking you. mineta is laughing his ass off and adds, "do you really expect us to believe that, bakugou? she doesn't even talk!" wow that was uncalled for. your face twists into an awkward look, knowing that he was right.

bakugou twirls a piece of your hair and scowls at the group.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LEAVE US ALONE, MORONS!" he stands up with tiny explosions coming out of his hands. mostly everyone stops speaking, some even muttering apologies.

"oh man, my sister is gonna be so pissed." a boy chuckles. another boy smirks. "your sister? man, think of camie! she's gonna beat her ass so bad."

"camie? no, camie's my friend." you blurt out. the table turns to look at you, raising eyebrows. "really?" "is that so?"

well, you weren't completely lying. you were friends with camie's younger sister but you've only talked to camie a few times before. you were feeling annoyed and how come these people think they can talk all they want about you right to your face?

you stay quiet nonetheless and grab your food and belongings. bakugou immediately stands up with you and you could say that slight concern was written on his face. you look down for a moment before you walk away to your dorm.

katsuki follows silently. once you make it upstairs, you quickly unlock your door, about to close it before bakugou holds it back. "don't shut me out."

you weren't even mad. you weren't sad either. you just wanted to get out of that environment. you didn't want to be harassed and made fun of like you were in junior high.

though you stand like a deer caught in headlights at bakugou's comment. "i'm-i'm not. it's not you, i promise." you sigh with a slight smile. "i just- i don't know. can i talk to you later?"

he looks taken aback and you can tell he's trying not to explode, which you appreciate. "i- yeah. sure, call me or somethin'." he kisses your cheek shyly and closes the door.

a few hours later, you decide that you don't want anything to do with katsuki's friends. they're his group of people, but not yours. and besides, you're dating him. not them.

you leave your dorm and walk to katsuki's. you knock softly and hear the heavy footsteps coming. the door opens widely and you're pulled inside. "hey- oh"

"are you gonna dump me?"

"what?- no!" you shake your head aggressively. he physically relaxes and you grab his hand. "i just would rather have this be between us." you suggest, staring at him lovingly.

he nods. "thas' fine."

"mmkay." you hum, grinning. the two of you stare at each other like rory and jess when they start dating before he finally invites you to watch a movie.

a/n: bye midway through, i kinda forgot that they just started dating and i made them so comfy with each other already. not that u guys are awkward but wtv lol

[stevebabey]

part one. the same cw applies as part one (cw: past sexual coercion is implied) thank u for any & all kind comments <3 hopin to deliver on the angsty hurt/comfort front >:/

“I’m sorry.”

It’s not exactly how he planned to start his whole apology speech but it’s as good a start as any. Steve is glad he says it. Eddie’s entire character softens just a bit hearing it, his shoulders relaxing to sit a little lower, like maybe, he was afraid Steve had come by to argue some more.

For a moment, they stare at each other until Eddie seems to realise he’s blocking the entrance. He jolts just a bit and side steps, beckoning Steve to come inside.

Good start. Steve steps forward and the subsequent rustle from behind his back reminds him of what’s in his hands. He pulls them out from their hiding spot and offers them out with only a marginally awkward cough. “Uh, first, these are for you.”

In his hands are blue hydrangeas, 3 of them, and the bag containing a mixtape and a multitude of Eddie’s favourite candies.

Eddie’s reaction isn’t… quite the usual. He doesn’t swoon or snap up the gifts out of Steve’s hands like Tilly and other girlfriends had. He doesn’t smile either, just eyes then silently. Steve feels a roll of worry tangle up his stomach.

After a moment, Eddie takes them. Steve follows him, taking the trailer stairs two at a time to keep watch on what Eddie will do. It’s a surprise then to watch them get placed to the side, flowers and gift bag dumped down on the Munson’s cluttered dining table. Eddie doesn’t even attempt a peek into the bag, which, well, for Eddie says a lot.

Moving his gaze from their discarded state to Eddie, Steve finds himself pinned down by Eddie’s waiting stare, his arms crossed tight over his chest. He’s waiting for Steve to speak. Right, it’s time to face the music.

Steve chances a quick glance down at the smudged bullet points on his palm. It suddenly feels too wooden for what Steve really wants to say, too constructed, too much what he thought Eddie wanted to hear.

And besides, Eddie hadn’t reacted as expected in the first instance, the forgotten gifts put to the side. Steve shoves his hand deep in his pocket and goes instead with exactly what he’s feeling.

“Okay, um. Look, I didn’t mean what I said. I- I know that was, I— my parents came home that night.”

None of it is coming out right, stammers on every word. Steve curses himself under his breath and wills himself to continue. Knows if it was Eddie apologising it would be poetic and sweet, all the right words in all the right order.

“I’m not— It’s not an excuse,” Steve shakes his head, tries to string together one single coherent fucking sentence. “I’m sorry. Sorry that I didn’t pick you up. And- and I’m sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean it. Really, it’s- I don’t think that of you. I’m sorry if I made you think I did.”

Eddie nods, though his clenched jaw gives away he’s not entirely peachy just yet.

“Robin told me about your parents being home. And yeah, it wasn’t cool what you said.” He agrees and Steve’s stomach turns. “But I wasn’t exactly fair either, getting all up in your face about it, so I’m sorry for that.”

Steve blinks, surprised; an apology was the last thing he’d expected to come out of Eddie’s mouth.

“I’m still a bit hurt,” Eddie admits, arms folding across his chest in a defensive motion. Steve hates how he seems to be curling in on himself, so obviously hating to admit aloud that Steve’s words had cut so deep. “But y’know, I know now that you were wound up from your parents being home. So, you’re, like, forgiven I guess.”

...Huh, okay. Usually, forgiveness comes after the grovelling, Steve thinks. Not as easily granted as Eddie is seemingly giving him now.

“Okay, uh,” Steve says warily, not quite sure where to go from here. Eddie isn’t really moving, still standing a bit tense. Waiting for Steve to break the ice.

Steve’s eyes dart to the dining table — the resting hydrangeas and abandoned candy. Steve tries to put two and two together, sure, so sure he’s missing something. It’s never this easy.

Eddie hadn’t acknowledged the flowers, hadn’t wanted the gifts. Steve may be forgiven but he still hasn’t shown Eddie how sorry he is.

Steve steps closer and sinks to his knees.

Eddie’s eyes widen in an instant and he takes half a step back, his hands raising up. It doesn’t feel good to watch Eddie put distance between them. Something curls up in Steve’s stomach.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asks. His voice is a bit scratchy and he clears his throat, not moving closer but not moving further away.

Fine. He wants Steve to spell it out. Steve wishes Eddie would just let him apologise in the way he knows — he was hoping Eddie wouldn’t make him drag out his apologies like his father did. But Eddie did love his theatrics so it’s not all that surprising.

“I’m… still apologising?” It’s not meant to come out as a question but half way through the sentence, Steve clocks Eddie’s body language. It’s giving very different vibes than expected. Steve’s confused.

The confusion only hikes up when anger flares in Eddie’s eyes, his jaw tightening just a bit. “You’re—? This isn’t gonna make what you said hurt any less, Steve. Is that what the…”

Eddie trails off, his own gaze tracking over to the dining table. He seems even more ticked off then, fixing his gaze back on to Steve.

“Are you trying to— Did you think you buying me stuff and sucking my dick is some completely fucked way to fast-track an apology?”

Steve feels his own eyes widen, each word twisting his confusion up so tightly it hurts in his chest. Eddie sounds angry.

“No,” Steve insists weakly, because he knows that’s what Eddie wants to hear. Even if that sort of is what he was expecting. He shakes his head, tries to get a read on Eddie’s body language beyond his annoyance. What does he want? “No, I just…”

Eddie’s anger seems to wane a little, seeing the confusion shudder across Steve’s features. Steve suddenly feels incredibly stupid being on his knees— but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know what to say. Maybe Eddie doesn’t want him in this way right now.

“I was,” Steve starts, clearing his throat and willing away his flushed cheeks. “I’m proving it to you.” His voice is a little stronger now, more sure. “I want to prove that I’m sorry.”

Eddie stares at him for a long moment and just when Steve thinks he’ll concede and reach for his belt, he surprises Steve and sinks to his knees too. He sits atop his boots, now face to face with his boyfriend, and reaches out gingerly to place a hand on Steve’s knee.

Steve eyes it for a moment. Is this the come on?

“Steve,” Eddie says gently. It reminds Steve of the tone one might have with an easily spooked animal, all comforting and soothing. “Do you even… want this? To have sex right now?”

It’s a strange question, Steve thinks. He frowns. This blowjob isn’t about him. “I think I’m confused,” He admits, forcing a chuckle to make it a little more casual. Then repeats the sentiment from earlier again. “I want to apologise.”

Eddie nods, harsh enough a curl untucks itself from behind his ear. “Yeah, sweetheart, you already did that. You apologised and I forgave you.”

Eddie doesn’t mention that all these extra things, the gifts and flowers, made him question the genuineness in Steve’s apology at first. Something tells him to dig a little deeper. Steve isn’t smarmy or cocky, he’s not sure that’ll be forgiven, he’s… confused.

But Steve nods. He’s following Eddie’s words so far. Something glitters inside him that he’s already back to sweetheart so soon. He hesitantly lays his own hand atop of Eddie’s, resting them both on his knee. Doesn’t speak. Doesn’t even know what to say. 

“So, I guess what I’m asking is… what is this?” Eddie waves his hand over Steve’s kneeled form.

The way he says it is still so concerned, which is so far from the usual eagerness Steve has come to know from him normally in these types of situations. Suddenly, knowing Eddie’s definitely not in the mood makes the whole thing a lot more embarrassing now.

“Christ, I wish I had known you wouldn’t want that now,” Steve forces another laugh, quiet, as he ducks his head down. Eddie doesn’t join in, just waits patiently.

“I was— y’know,” Steve waves a hand, gesturing to nothing. “Proving I was sorry. Making it up to you. Guess sex was the wrong idea there, sorry.”

He grimaces a bit, squeezes Eddie’s hand. Steve wonders how he’ll end up making it up to Eddie, if not this way. It’s always been this way.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just stares at Steve with a perturbed expression on his face. If Steve had to guess, he’d say he almost— almost looks a bit sad.

“Stevie,” Eddie says, nudging closer. Both their knees are touching now. “You already apologised. I forgave you.”

He’s repeating things Steve already knows, so Steve nods. Then repeats the thing he’s heard a hundred times over, “Yeah, I know and now I need to prove how sorry I am.”

Eddie’s face crumples a bit, the frown line between his brows deepening. He seems to have hit some understanding, shuffling even closer to Steve. Any annoyance from a minute ago has leaked out of his body. He’s all comfort now, every soft part that Steve adores so much.

“No, you don’t.” Eddie says simply, words strong and sure. “I know that you’re sorry. You said so. That’s proof enough for me, sweetheart.”

Oh. That’s all there is to it, apparently.

Steve’s acutely aware that the emotion streaking through his chest is relief — relief that he doesn’t have to jump through hoops to gain anything back. Doesn’t have to open his mouth or spread his legs just to earn back his partners affections for a heat of the moment mistake.

He said he was sorry and Eddie forgave him. That’s it. That’s all it took. Like an ill-weighted scale, all the relief slides down into a strange hot shame. Oh god, he’s just come in and then— and Eddie hadn’t even— and Steve had thought—

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry, that must’ve—“ Steve reels back, the embarrassment from earlier rearing up inside him close to pure mortification. He pulls his hand from Eddie’s grip, all of it suddenly wrong, so so wrong. “I’m sorry, that was so weird of me to offer—“

“Hey, hey, hey, no.” Eddie’s cutting in before Steve gets very far, firmly planting both hands onto Steve’s shoulders to keep him from receding any further. “Don’t apologise for that. That’s… Steve, will you look at me please?”

Nope, a small voice inside him answer, with a quiver. Looking at the trailer floor is so much easier than what Eddie’s asking.

There’s been many times where Steve has felt a bit dumb but this? This feels like a special kind of stupid. The word throbs in his chest painfully as he wonders how he’d got so turned around. He wants to apologise again.

“Stevie?” Eddie says his name again, a soft coo. One of the hands on Steve’s shoulders shifts, hesitating for a moment, before gingerly cradling his jaw. Steve lets Eddie tilt his face up, reluctantly dragging his gaze up to his boyfriend’s face.

Eddie is all sweetness, eyes soft and smile encouraging. It’s his tenderness that makes Steve exhale, a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding and he can’t help the way he sags just a bit and leans into Eddie’s hold.

Eddie gives a quiet hum. “No more apologies, okay?”

Steve nods, the motion a bit slow. It sort of feels as though it’s a little harder to move against gravity, like the air is thick molasses. He’s tired. Why is he so tired? He wonders if it’s the mountainous relief that’s still trickling out his body.

“We- we’ll need to talk about that later,” Eddie nods along to his words, voice all tender. The way he says it lets Steve know it’s not a bad thing. “But for now I think I’d just rather hold you. Can I do that?”

How backwards. Steve had come here to apologise, to make it up to Eddie, and now he’s the one being comforted. And yet, his nod comes much easier this time. It’s probably a bit too eager but Steve’s just about drowned in his embarrassment tonight so what’s some more?

Eddie’s hands move and grip Steve’s hands in his lap, giving a comforting squeeze— then waits, doesn’t move until Steve gives another squeeze back.

Then Eddie’s rising, standing up and pulling Steve up with him. It’s quiet, Steve hiding the tiny shake in his hands by squeezing Eddie’s hand so tight he won’t notice — til Eddie’s knees crack, terribly loud in the silence, and he whispers a loud, “Ow, fuck.”

Steve can’t help it, he laughs, the sound bursting out of him. Fuck, his boyfriend is an old man sometimes.

Then Eddie laughs too, that glorious sound that Steve could bottle and get drunk on and then they’re both laughing — and Eddie is tugging Steve into his bedroom, both of them collapsing into the creaky bed. The springs whine under their weight but it goes unheard.

Eddie does his best to bundle Steve in his arms, accidentally sticking his elbow into Steve’s side but it doesn’t even matter. Eddie cuddles are a fuckin’ delicacy as far Steve’s concerned— when he’s happy with the way he’s wrapped himself around Steve, full Koala style, he squeeezes.

It forces a pathetic sounding wheeze out from Steve, quickly spiralling into another laugh because who has ever loved him this way? This well? Between the threads of relief that pluck on his heartstrings is white hot love.

Steve already knows what’s coming next, what is always the second step in Eddie cuddles. Instead of hiding his face away into Eddie’s chest, like he’s done a thousand times before, he sticks his face out. Chin jutted out, face exposed, and ready for kisses.

Eddie doesn’t deny him. It’s a wet smush of quick kisses, on his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids — Eddie lets out little ‘mwahs’ as he goes, in a sickly sweet voice that Steve adores.

Faintly, inside his chest Steve’s heart sighs. Because no apology, no forgiveness, has ever been like this, this simple, this easy. Equal comfort — like Eddie was aware Steve had been suffering on the other end of the silent treatment, at regretting his own words.

Steve silently hopes it’ll always be this way, even though another part deeper down knows it’ll be. That arguments with Eddie might involve childish silent treatment, tongues poked out and boots stamped — but that apologies would never be a test. Never more than an honest admittance of regret in the form of words.

In the way Eddie presses a particularly slimy kiss against his cheek, hard enough it makes Steve’s cheek squish, he thinks he might not have to worry much at all.

tags: @disorganisedbee @estrellami-1 @moonshadows-13 @qubert18 @fxndom-hoe @nelotegreitic @justforthedead89 @avacrebs @yikes-a-bee @just-a-tiny-void @stevesbipanic @penny-lane-bitch @clarakeanen @weeennussy

[ssahotchnerr]

SINCE WHEN COULDNT YOU LINK ANON ASKS ANYMORE ????

basically there was this post saying the bau had to cram into one car and op said they’d have to sit on aaron’s lap. it had me thinking about oblivious aaron and when reader says something like that he doesn’t catch on that she’s flirting so he says “but that’s illegal 🫤 and dangerous ☝️”

by default

wc; 1.1k cw; sexual tension, flustered aaron flustered aaron flustered aaron

leave it to morgan to get an injury. per usual.

to be fair, he had been heroic, intercepting the unsub just in the nick of time. but while doing so, he had landed obscurely on his ankle, twisting the absolute hell out of it.

as a result, derek ultimately had to take up the entire backseat to keep his foot raised- to prevent further swelling and in attempt to ease the throbbing pain.

but that meant, you were left without a seat.

the takedown had been sudden; the other half of the team were still at the precinct, as was the other suv. you paused as the realization suddenly entered your mind, your hand pausing still on the ajar door.

at the sound of aaron's familiar footsteps behind you, you turned- just enough so he was able to catch a glimpse of your face. the look on yours must've relayed a sense of troubledness, as aaron's usual stoic expression deepened, a quizzical look in his eyes.

"what is it?" his tone was balanced- calm, but a hint of urgency was merely present. as if he were ready to go from zero to one hundred at your request, whatever it may be.

you gaped at him. "i don't have a seat."

aaron's face changed immediately, displaying an internal oh as the realization of the current predicament hit him as well. "right..." aaron's voice trailed off, immediately racking through his brain for a possible solution. "um..."

"what's the issue?" dave approached the two of you, having just finished his conversation with one of the paramedics on scene.

"since hero man over here took one for the team," you tilted your head in derek's direction, who looked awfully proud at the title you've given him. "we're inevitably down a seat."

"hm. well i guess that's too bad." dave nonchalantly answered with a shrug of his shoulders. to hide his smile, he opened the driver side door and didn't waste a second getting inside, offering no further words or assistance.

aaron huffed out a breath through his nose, rolling his eyes at rossi's very apparent helpfulness.

a new idea flashed into your head- one that made you giddy and sweat at the same time. it exited your mouth before you could stop it; you chalked it up to the adrenaline still pumping through your veins from the unsub's takedown. any other time, you wouldn't be as confident or straightforward.

"i could always sit on your lap."

despite the fact he instantly froze, aaron did a good job at showing no emotion at your suggestion. just like you, the idea made him feel lightheaded in the best possible way, but would he allow that to show? absolutely not.

and so by default, aaron crossed his arms, his eyebrows drawn into a line. "that's not very safe."

"do you have any better ideas?" you arched an eyebrow, crossing your arms right back at him. "we're out of options here."

"the roof?" derek joked from inside the vehicle. at his statement, aaron didn't hesitate to push the door shut, silencing him for the meantime.

"it's only like, a twenty minute drive. it's fine, i'll be fine." you reassured him, searching his eyes with yours.

he deadpanned. "and it's illegal."

you waved off his statement, quirking an eyebrow in a teasing manner. "i'll wear my vest if it makes you feel any better."

his timid expression softened, as if he were actually considering your point, but it only took a moment for the pensiveness to return. he let out a sigh, pulling his eyes from yours. "no..."

"then...?" you pushed hesitantly.

aaron knew your suggestion was the most logical resolution. it was either that, or derive morgan from aiding to his injury.

and he also knew that you would be safe, in his arms. by no means would he ever let anything bad happen to you.

his eyes made their way back to you, only to be met with again, a raised eyebrow.

"okay, fine." he surrendered, loosening his crossed arms and letting them drop to his sides.

you made your way over to the passenger side of the car, aaron at your footsteps. when he took the initiative and moved forward a bit, opening the door for the two of you, your confidence instantly fizzled and nerves took it's place.

this was really about to happen.

aaron climbed into the suv first, taking his seat and buckling- the seatbelt wouldn't span over both of you, so his arms would have to act as your seatbelt- before holding a hand out to you.

aaron had had less than a minute to prepare himself for this, but he was certain there wasn't a value of time that actually could.

meanwhile, you exhaled a silent breath and took his hand, settling yourself onto his lap.

at the contact aaron's breath hitched, his cheeks warming. involuntarily, all his past fantasies came to mind, as they were vaguely as close to coming true than he ever thought possible. he had lost count at how many times he had pictured you being this close, and closer. the only difference now were the articles of clothing separating the two of you, and the fact two colleagues were inches away.

to sum it up, you were both equally flustered. for months, there was an unspoken... something between the two of you. something neither of you had acted upon it, or addressed. and this, it was crossing the nonexistent barrier the two of you had put into place.

neither of you were upset about it too, quite honestly.

with a racing heart, you leaned back against his chest, aaron's arms wrapping around your waist securely and holding your body tightly to his. you weren't going fly through the windshield, even at the smallest of brakes, not on his watch.

after a very nervous swallow, he checked in with you, "this alright?"

that immediately took you by surprise, and did not help in the slightest. the closeness of aaron's low voice directly at your ear, his warm breath spreading across your neck, had every part of you silently humming.

"mhm." was all you could manage, resisting the urge to move your hips further back into his.

"aw, don't you two look comfortable." derek gushed from the backseat, a low chuckle escaping him.

you peered back to give him the stink eye, while aaron chose to ignore him. but, your movement did exactly what you hadn't intended, pushing yourself further into aaron. he let out a small noise, his grip around your waist only tightening as he resisted to squirm in his seat.

aaron composed himself the best he could, taking two long, silent breaths, he cleared his throat. "rossi-"

"drive safe, take no chances." dave interrupted him immediately, shifting the gear into drive. his tone was almost wise, clear amusement in his voice. "i know."

[volklana]

Sihtric's Whore

Request: how about in season 3 when Sihtric 'betrays' Uhtred to go and spy on the danes, you try to stop him from taking the captives and then in the morning even though he doesn't mean it Uhtred scolds you in front of everyone for just 'letting him go'

Warning: Use of the word whore in a derogatory manner.

My very first time writing for this character I hope I did him justice.

Requests are open.

Sihtric was becoming more solemn with each sip, an uneasy expression crossing his face.

One you were not used to seeing, one that made you, in turn, uneasy.

Finan was barely able to stay awake, head propped up on his hand and you were yearning for Uhtred to finally release you all so you could away to bed. 

Having checked on Osferth already, your eyes were heavy and your heart was weary, you would never admit to another soul that you had cried tears beside the sleeping baby monk earlier, death had come a little too close for your liking and until Skade had lifted her curse, you were afraid for your friends that it’s boney arms would try to snatch another one of them away before their time.  

You released a breath you didn’t realise you were holding as Uhtred approached your table. 

You watched in horror as the arguing began between Uhtred and Sihtric, reaching out a hand to stay Sihtric and shrinking when he swatted it away, as Uhtred got up to leave.

“Sihtric, you are drunk and tired,” Finan hissed and you silently urged Sihtric with your eyes not to continue down this path.

You were both equally horrified when Uhtred swung back around, informing Sihtric he was welcome to leave if he was unhappy in his service.

You and Finan were out of your seats quicker than the blink of an eye when Sihtric rounded on Unthred, raising his voice “I have fought for you!”

“Sihtric please, please don’t do this,” you pleaded, hands on his chest attempting to push him back towards his seat and he swung wildly free from your grasp with a snarl. 

You turned, silently pleading with Uhtred when he spat “Stay or go I do not care,” you could not hide the hurt that etched across your face. 

“He does not mean that. He does care.” Finan tried to appease, urging everyone to sit back down. 

“If you wish to make the square Uhtred of Bebbanburgh, let us do it.”

“No,” you and Finan cried out in unison “There will be no squares made, no fighting, just sleep!” Finan pleaded. 

After Uhtred’s threat to kill Sihtric if he was still here in the morning you heard your blood pound in your ears. 

You scurried after Uhtred, catching him just as he made it outside.

“Uhtred,” you called but he made no reply “Lord,” you cried out this time more urgent and when he finally turned to face you, you could see the venom in his eyes.

“You can’t mean it, please?” 

“Every word,” he spat “And if that displeases you little one, you may follow.” 

You shrank back from him eyes stinging at the betrayal and burst your way back into the tavern. 

You took a seat beside a defeated Finan. Sihtric was refusing to face either of you. Turning his attention instead to the Danes. You grasped at Finan’s hand a silent plea to reassure you that everything was going to be okay, and he shook his head, eyes softening when he took in your huge, worried ones staring back. He couldn’t reassure you, because he couldn’t even reassure himself. 

You were sitting by Osferth’s side, sleep had long evaded you with the worry pitting in your stomach and for the first time in your life you prayed to the gods that morning would not come, your only hope at preventing the inevitable fall out from this night.

You saw the flicker of shadows and the muffled sound of steps pass Osferth’s window and realised with a start that the Danes were escaping and grabbing your sword you set off in pursuit, you arrived just as Sihtric was about to mount his horse.

“Sihtric,” you cried out in disbelief “What is this?” You demanded, angrily holding the sword up to his chest, whilst the rest of the Danes looked on.

You watched as his expression hardened “I am leaving, as has been commanded,” he spat.

“You began this course, Sihtric. I begged you. As I am begging you now. Please do not do this.” 

“It is done,” he said with a finality, eyes softening only for a second when he registered the tears in your eyes.

“Put down the sword, y/n,” he urged, grasping your weapon by the blade and easing it down, “We both know you will not harm me. I leave tonight, come with me if you wish. You know I will care for you and keep you safe but I will offer this only once.”

“You know I can’t,” you cried begging him with your eyes “Please stay here. With me,”

“You know I can’t,” he countered softly, before his eyes hardened again, “Stay with Uhtred or come with me. Make your decision now and make it quick.”

You shook your head as tears freely slipped down your face and he nodded with a snarl, before turning and mounting his horse “And so you have made it, as I have made mine,” he kicked his horse into action and you watched in horror as the Danes did the same, leaving you amidst the chaos of hooves and dust. 

Finan burst into your room at first light and one look at your disheveled appearance told him everything he needed to know.

“I couldn’t stop him,” you cried into his chest “He wouldn’t stay.” 

“Hush now, it’s alright,” the Irish man soothed rubbing patterns onto your back “You’re alright. I’ve got ya.”

Osferth was well enough to make it to the Alehouse and was delighting in having you and Finan fetch him anything he needed, namely ale. 

Silence descended when Uhtred returned back, as he and Finan embraced and he informed him Sihtric was gone, you watched in silence as he embraced Osferth and then his eyes like lightning found yours, and you quickly turned your gaze to the floor. 

“I tried to stop him lord,” was all you could mutter.

“You let him escape,” he answered back quickly “And the prisoners,”

“Yes, lord,” you confirmed and he made a tutting noise, followed by a long sigh.

“She was one girl against a band of Danes,” Osferth argued on your behalf 

“She was one girl, in love with one Dane,” Uhtred fired back and you felt your body light on fire with shame amidst the laughter that broke out among the men.

Your voice shook as you wrung your hands together “But I chose you, and I won’t fail you again lord,” 

Uhtred softened at this, his expression melting, and he nodded your way with a soft, reassuring smile before he pulled you into a quick embrace. 

“It is done, little one,” he whispered affectionately and you felt the weight of seven worlds fall off your shoulders. 

Sihtric’s betrayal, the men and Osferth to your horror were calling it. As though Uhtred was the Christian nailed god, and Sihtric were Judas, you knew thirty pieces of silver had not been exchanged but maybe that would have made his desertion somewhat more understandable than a few heated words. But if Uhtred was Christ and Sihtric was Judas, you had become Mary Magdalene, the whore of the story. Sihtric’s whore to be precise, that’s what some of the men had taken to sneering at you, and one even spat as you were readying your horse to ride to the Dane camp alongside Uhtred, “Sihtric’s whore.”

You hunkered down in the overgrowth amongst the men watching the Dane camp, heart hammering in your chest. You knew Sihtric was within the camp and you knew that there would be no hesitation to kill him from the group of men you lay beside. You had tried to convince yourself that you would be able to hurt him if it came to it, but you knew deep down you would rather run the blade through yourself than harm him. Even after it all. Even now.

It was Finan who had sat beside you last night, your eyes tired and face gaunt and he bumped your shoulder in his merry way before taking your hand in his. Sometimes you thought Finan was the only one who truly saw how much you were suffering Sihtric’s loss.

Truth be told he had been teasing Sihtric for months about you, any man would have to be blind to not see the way Sihtric looked at you. He was your shadow ever since the day you joined the group. Always by your side, always prepared to help you up or down from your horse. He never returned with a mug of ale for himself, without one for you too.He always strategically set your tent up closer to the fire, sneaking you more furs and food rations when he thought you weren’t looking.

Finan had been sure the Dane was smitten by you, and he watched your regard for the Dane grow by the day. You tended all his wounds with tender hands and you oftentimes braided his hair, humming softly to yourself as your hands worked gently through his soft curls. In the evenings of merriment, he would watch your body lean almost subconsciously towards Sihtric and your eyes, half-hooded, always seemed to be memorizing his face when he wasn’t looking at you.

“You know he’s going to be there,” he murmured softly and squeezed your hand reassuringly.

“I know,” you sniffed resolutely, “I’ve made my peace with it, and should the moment arise I am prepared.”

Finan squeezed your hand again once for good measure and left you with your mug of ale.

“Someone’s coming!” Finan shushed and a hush ran through your camp. 

“It is Sihtric,” Osferth gasped and you felt your stomach drop to your toes. 

“You have something to say to me boy?” Uhtred demanded and Sihtric approached further, steely determination across the features you knew so well. 

“Yield to me,” he commanded and pressed his sword towards Uhtred’s chest, you were sprung like a coil ready to unleash if needed you watched Finan do the same. You were reminded of that night in the alehouse when you and Finan had acted in unison to try to prevent this. 

You watched in horror as Uhtred and Sihtric erupted into laughter and moved to embrace each other, amidst Osferth’s joyful announcing that they had been playing you all. 

“I fooled you,” Sihtric beamed to Finan who was almost stuttering in disbelief claiming to have known it was all a jest all along. Finan, Osferth and Sihtric took their turns embracing each other but you were rooted to the spot. You felt the world spinning like you were going to be sick and you pushed yourself through the men until you breached the last line and you were spilling your guts out onto the forest floor. 

A pair of mismatched eyes searched the crowd for you, his face scrunching when he was unable to find you, and then turned his attention back to Uhtred as they formulated their plan for the night.

“You’ve never failed me Sihtric, I will see you at the tree,” you heard Uhtred utter proudly and then your legs gave way.

It was Finan who found you trembling at the back of the pack,“Good jaysus,” he mumbled before hoisting you up and patting you down before Uhted called him away. There would be time to sort this all out once this night had passed. 

You followed through the long grass, fleeing to the ships following Sihtric’s lead. Uhtred had secured Skade and you were being pursued by Haeston’s Danes. You cut down any Dane who stood between you and the ship, jumping with ease and landing into strong arms that pulled you to the safety within, you punched at Sihtric's chest urging him to let go and were glad when he relented, turning instead to steady the men who were fleeing onboard. You pulled with all your might under Finan’s shouted orders, boring daggers into the back of the man you loved sitting in front of you. 

Osferth was too weak too row and your arms were screaming with pain, having rowed through the night. The oars were beginning to blister your hands but you refused to give in.

Sihtric had tried to sneak glances over his shoulder at you but you refused to meet his eye. Instead turning all your anger and wasted worry into ensuring you kept rowing.

Your aching body was relieved to finally moor in Coccham, swatting Sihtric’s hand away as he attempted to help you from the boat.

“Please, y’n,” he muttered, trying to to meet your eye, but relented when you pushed by him, icy anger in your veins. 

As you began the ride back to Winchester you were solemn. You had barely spoken a word to anyone and Finan regarded you with worry across his features.

“You could have told her,” Finan swiped at Sihtric, “Of all of us, you could have told her.”

“How could I?” Sihtric sighed, running a tired hand across his face.

“You didn’t see the way the men treated her for allowing you to escape.” 

Sihtric froze, eyes wild, urging Finan to continue.

“They called her whore Sihtric. Your whore. They thought she had betrayed Uhted and she thought she had too. She barely ate or slept, and now you turn up and all is forgiven, But she has endured the brunt of yours and Uhtred’s decisions.” 

Sihtric watched you ride wearily, he could see the defeat in the way you held yourself and he wanted nothing more than to take back all the hurt he had caused you, but he startled at the thought that you might not let him.

In Winchester you all settled in the alehouse, the lodgings above adequate enough for the rest you needed, You barely picked at the stew you were given and Finan took the spot beside you.

“Lady,” he sighed “You need to eat, come on, even just a few spoonfuls more.”

You shook your head and he grabbed the spoon, diving it into the food and bringing it up towards your mouth “Come ooon,” he urged “Look how delicious this is, open up that pretty mouth of yours and take a bite.” You couldn’t suppress the laugh that escaped your lips when he all but shoved the spoon into your mouth and he quickly chased it with another.

“Finan, you are feeding me like a mother feeds a babe,” you giggled, the first time he had heard that sound in weeks.

“Well be and good babe, and take another bite, and I will stop mothering you.” 

You swiped your spoon back and finished off the rest of your bowl.

“Happy, mother hen?” you teased and he wiped the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

“Happy,” he conceded.

“Finan,” you sighed and he hummed and you scooted up in your seat to rest your body against his, taking the hint he wrapped his arms around you, placing his chin on your head, pulling you closer.

“You were the only one who stood by me. You stopped me from falling apart.” 

“Nothing you haven’t done for me a thousand times over, love.” he all but whispered into your hair. 

Someone clearing their throat pulled your attention away from Finan’s warmth and you were shocked to see a rather meek looking Sihtric standing at the table, a bunch of flowers in hand.

“Can I talk with you lady? Please?” he begged.

Finan gave you a reassuring tap and slid away from you.

“Outside?” he begged again.

And even though you didn’t want to, your feet were moving of their own accord.

You walked a little in silence together and eventually you realised you were going to have to make the first move. 

“Sihtric, can you please just say whatever it is you wish to say to me, I am cold and I am tired.”

It was like he was burned into action, shrinking off his cloak and wrapping it around your shoulders before you could protest, and he all but pressed the flowers into your hands. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered gently “I am sorry for leaving you. For allowing all the blame to be placed upon your shoulders and I am sorry for demanding you choose between Uhtred and I.” 

“Why did you do it?” you pleaded and he wanted to drop to his knees before you.

“I hoped..I hoped you would choose me. I would have confessed it all to you if you had come. But I understand why you could not.” 

“They called me your whore Sihtric,” you cried, unable to stop the tears welling in your eyes, “And now you press these flowers into my hand and you say you are sorry but I have come to realise that maybe..maybe my regard for you is stronger than yours for me and I am no longer willing to be Sihtric’s whore.” 

The name was especially unfair, when you considered you had never so much as pressed your lips to Sihtric’s, let alone lay with him. 

“You are no whore,” Sihtric spat, sinking to his knees in front of you, “But I am a fool, that is true. A coward who should have told you long before this day that you are the light of my life. Ever since the day we met I have loved you and if you think I do not regard you in the highest form possible, you are wrong.”

You bit at your lip, allowing the tears to fall freely now.

“I have asked for Uhtred’s permission, and now I ask for yours, forget the name Sihtric’s whore and become Sihtric’s wife. Let me never leave you in doubt of my devotion to you again. Let me worship you. Let me be loyal to you. Let me fight for you. Let me love you.” 

He moved closer to you on his knees, grasping your hips in his hands resting his head against your stomach “Let us raise pups who look like me but have all the best of you. Let me love you.” he repeated “Be my wife.” 

“You hurt me, Sihtric.” you all but whimpered, but already your free hand was tracing the scar across his face tenderly all resolve melting.

“I hurt you this once my love and I will never, ever hurt you again. On Thor’s hammer,” he grasped at the pendant he wore around his neck and his two mismatched eyes bore up into your own.

“Be my wife.” he pleaded again.

“Sihtric’s wife,” you repeated and you were nodding furiously “Yes, yes Sihtric I will be your wife.”

He rose up furiously to crush his lips against yours, pulling you off your feet as he swung you around, the flowers falling from your grasp as you laughed through the tears.

“You are really mine?” you cried cupping his grinning face in your hands.

“From the moment I met you, I have been yours.” 

Tagging: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @shamrockqueen @canyonmoon-2

[maidenvault]

Okay so, Crosshair’s hand.

Has anyone pointed this out? When Crosshair kills Nolan, he doesn't use his shooting hand.

He uses his left. Just as he very significantly has to in the series finale.

I don't know if the writers knew as far back as "The Outpost" that Crosshair was going to lose the use of his shooting hand and by extension everything he believed made him strong, a "superior" clone, and safe from being discarded when he was kind of fascism-pilled. But it feels extra significant in retrospect that his first action taken against the Empire is not done with the hand associated with the terrible things he did as an Imperial sniper. And it's after he just got a difficult lesson about how his own personal strength and skills aren't enough to protect him - he was saved twice by Mayday, then possibly only survived through the night because he wouldn't leave him behind and could share his body heat. He may be using his left hand when he shoots Nolan because his other arm is tired from supporting Mayday all the way back, which only adds to the symbolic touch I love that Mayday is using his rifle as a crutch to help him walk as well (and of course, he's at close range so quite meaningfully Crosshair doesn't use the rifle to shoot here either). It all supports the idea of this as the first huge moment of transformation for Crosshair when he's finally turning his fire on the real enemy out of a desire to protect others, however futile and too late it is in this particular situation.

Going back and noticing this really reinforced for me that Crosshair's hand injury probably isn't just meant as a manifestation of his trauma related to Tantiss. It would make sense considering it's his shooting hand that it also has something to do with his inner conflict regarding his changed relationship with violence and killing.

The Batch were introduced as these stereotypically macho soldier characters, an impression that's softened a little as early as the pilot of TBB but still distinguishes them a little from other clones. In a kind of funny way you can look at the whole series as being about these guys who were only brought up to fight gradually discovering and finding peace with their more traditionally feminine sides - literally because of Omega, a female version of themselves who shows them the possibilities of being a family and living for others instead of for violence.

For Crosshair this journey is much more difficult and like a painful rebirth than it is for anyone else because being a soldier was so much of his identity. He's always been the one to most pointedly distinguish his squad from regs because of their "superior" traits that he thinks will make the Empire value them, and he clearly internalized the way the Kaminoans only care about clones as weapons to be used in war. And it all betrays how little value Crosshair actually believes he has deep down. It was easy to go into S3 being especially worried about his fate because he's believed so long that he's not good for anything but fighting and he's the character it was the hardest to imagine adjusting to a different life.

But in retrospect, it was stupid to think they'd let him off that easy and of course the whole point is that it takes a lot to get him there. What exactly he went through on Tantiss beyond the electroshock torture we've seen is never delved into but personally, I think being a soldier is something that's poisoned for Crosshair after he becomes a victim of the Empire himself and subject to their attempts at reconditioning. He's not psychologically able to be that person anymore, but for a long time is still trying to largely rely on himself and his own strength. He tries to sacrifice himself for others because he's still holding onto that part of himself in a way.

But for once in Star Wars we've gotten a fully realized redemption arc showing that sometimes what's harder than giving your life in a redemptive way is to actually have to figure out how to live with the bad things you've done and be better. Some of the people Crosshair hurt were his family, and he has to learn he can only make things better by being there for them. He has to learn that he actually can survive and figure out a way forward from his life as a soldier if he lets himself rely on them, just like he only survived Barton IV with help from Mayday. As @moonstrider9904 explains so well in this post, that is what's so important about Crosshair losing the hand and making that final shot to save Omega with Hunter's support. Symbolically he's had that toxic part of himself actually cut off and it's the final, most painful part of his rebirth. But because of that he's forced to find that he can live on without it, that he's surrounded by people who love and believe in him anyway, and that having superhuman skills as a killer was never what gave him worth.

No, having his shooting hand cut off doesn't "fix" anything or mean that Crosshair is healed. He's probably only begun to recover from everything he's been through. But all we really need to see is that he's firmly found his place as part of a family instead of a squad, and he's not going to be alone as he deals with all of that.