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marymary-diva17 · 3 days

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Family is my fortress

sully family x reader

To you family is everything and your family is your fortress, and you will do anything to keep your family safe from harm. They had been there for you and you had been there for them. Being the eldest was alot but you did a good job, since you were young you wanted the type of love your parents had and you had gotten it. Falling in love with future olo'eythan from other clan and you had become his mate, you had thought you two will be together forever until that all came crossing down.

y/n " ......" you kneel in the ground tears falling down your face as you look at your mates parents and the rest of his clan, as they all looked at you with hate in their eyes.

tshaik " you have betrayed my son and the clan your demon women"

y/n " I haven't betrayed anyone it all lies you have to listen to me"

olo'eythan " no you lie tricking our son into become your mate and, then having us all think you are pregnant with his child ... when we all know that a lie those kids are not his they are demon blood"

y/n " awomti I deemed to speak him he my mate and the father of my children"

tshaik " you say it lies but we have reports from Siawo and others have told, us you been talking with your family and making plans for the clan"

y/n " no please you all don't understand"

olo'eythan " siawo tell us what you have overheard"

siawo " umm I have heard ....."

tshika " speak but child this demon will not hurt you"

siawo " yes tshaik I have heard her speaking with her father and those demons, of having their human stuff come here and the evil ones as well ... but I think she doesn't ..."

tshiak " that enough it has been spoken we have many witness to speak about you. since the day my son laid eyes on you everything has fallen apart ... you have used your demon ways to win him over and become his mate, when he was promised to siawo here who was a friend to you"

y/n " they didn't love each other we all know that she helped me meet him"

olo'eytahn " enough if you were not neytiri daughter we would of kicked you out, all those years ago but seeing how she fall in love with demon now we know she was not in right mind ... now your demon blood will infect our clan and our family blood line"

y/n " please awomti he my mate he will not let this happen"

tshaik " my son will be okay with it he will get a better mate with sawio, and give us proper navi children that don't have demon blood like you ..... now leave this land while you can before we have you chased out"

y/n " please no what of my childern and awomit he hasn't meet them yet, they haven't come into the world yet you can't do this"

olo'eythan " leave now women while you can or we will find a way to call the evil demons, have them take you and the unborn baby " shocked hit you as you didn't harm to come to your baby at all.

crowd " leave leave leave"

navi women : she was never one of us"

navi man " awomit needs a better mate then her" the yelling had gotten to much and you soon packed up to leave, heading towards home to your family.

the next morning

y/n " we are here girl" you had soon reached where your family and some of the clan had been staying and made their home as well.

????? " sister" you had looked up to see lo'ak standing there, he soon went towards.

???? " hey brother who is there .... y/n mom dad y/n is home" lo'ak had been shown as he soon made his way to you.

neteyam " sister you have travel here"

y/n " yes I came to see my family"

lo'ak " you shouldn't be travaling here all alone sister not while you are pregnant"

y/n " I just had to come see you"

???? " my daughter" you soon saw your mom and dad along with your sisters, when you family was closer tears had formed in your eyes.

tuk " sister is everything okay" you had fallen to your knees and stared crying your family started panic, you mom had brought you into a warm embrace as you cry.

mo'at " bring her inside she might be hurt and in need of care, once she clam we can talk with her" neytiri had helped you stand as the family had taken you to healer hut, after you clam down you told them everything.

y/n " that what happened"

mo'at " that is horrible"

kiri " y/n why didn't you call for us"

lo'ak " yes why didn't you we would of come and help you"

y/n " the thsaik broke my ear piece"

neytiri " I will leave now and go face that women who dare she treated you and, my unborn grandchild like that"

y/n " mom no please"

neytiri " my daughter she has dishonored you and our family she most pay"

Jake " neytiri we can deal with her now our daughter needs us right now"

ronal " hello we have come by to see your daughter"

neteyam " she clam down now"

tonowari " good we are sorry for what has happened to you and we will give you and the baby refugee her, awomti parents not have that much power and say over here"

y/n " thank you"

Jake " sweetie I'm sorry I should of ..."

y/n " dad it not your fault I thought my life was getting better, but not that seems to have changed"

tuk '"don't cry big sister you still have us"

spider ' yes we will make sure they never mess with you again"

y/n " thank you I hope and have faith awomti will come"

neytiri "he will come my daughter he loves you dearly" neytiri did her best to make her daughter fell good, her family and offered to make her room in their house. she said she was fine as tonowari had said there was emptied home not, far from his family which made everyone feel good. Days had gone by and awomti had never come and soon enough your babies had been born twins sons. Motherhood was new to you but with the help of your parents, everything had become better.

neytiri " Thank you for having us over during the twins nap time, and we also brought over some dinner as well"

y/n " thank you mom"

Jake " they are handsome kids"

y/n " yes they are both of them representing the forest and the sea"

neytiri " my daughter we also came here to speak about you, on the matter related to your mate and his family"

y/n " yes I know he has yet to coming resulting on many other things"

Jake " you are not alone on this matter sweetie I and your mom are here along with your siblings and grandmother"

y/n " thank you dad"

Jake " oh yes and if his father show his face here and say anything bad about you and my grandson, I will teach him a good lesson about what happens when you mess with my baby girl and grand babies" you and your mom had laugh at Jake words soon it sound like someone was coming to the door.

lo'ak " hey we came by to see the boys and storm rolling in as well"

Neteyam " so we came home right away and had a feeling everyone was here"

y/n " come inside" your siblings had stepped into the home and soon sat down, it didn't take long until the twins had woken up from their nap and joined the rest of their family. The twins were having a good time with their uncles and aunts.

Jake " y/n"

y/n " yes dad"

Jake " whatever happens we are here for you our family is fortress, we will keep everyone safe"

neytiri " yes and now will keep our two new members safe from harm"

lo'ak " hey sis what are you going to name them"

y/n " the oldest one will be named Emeyo and the youngest one will be named Rieo they will carry on the sully name"

Jake " that perfect now neteyam hand me over my grandson"

neteyam " no you got to hold him longer last time"

Jake " do not disobey me" the family started laughing who soon made twins soon laugh as well. The pain you had felt before had started fading away bit by bit. As you had know you have your family by your side, and they will always be your fortress and you will be their fortress as well.

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imminent-danger-came · 6 months

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Youtube "analysis" video misunderstood my favorite show, 12 dead 11 injured

#LOSING MY FUCKING MIND #that was the longest and worst 14 minutes of my life #''The plot should be driven through the characters'' ''Why were the baitlings so important why did they bother to save them''#Tell me you don't care about Ezran without telling me you don't care about Ezran #I'm losing my mind #tdp you don't deserve this #''Finnegran was a bad villian they told his character and didn't show it''#You just didn't pay attention I'm killing you I'm killing you I'm losing my mind oh my god #every point was a baseless opinion given with no evidence #THAT'S NOT ANALYSIS #Losing my mind #come here tdp. Come here. I love you.#''Why did callum want to learn the ocean arcanum'' idk. idk bro.#Why in the world would Callum want to learn to ''control the tides'' especially with what happened in 4x04 #why would he want that #I couldn't possibly put that together #God it's just like #YOU LIE. YOU LIE WHEN YOU SAY YOU WANT TO BE SHOWN AND NOT TOLD #imp's a little feisty #imp tag

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letterlitter · 30 days

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Pacify Her

Lando Norris x reader

•Tags: smut, toxic Lando, hate-fuck, makeup sex

•Loosely based on a song by Melanie Martinez with the same title.

•Wordcount: 1.6k

It was unbearable how Lando squeezed this new girl's thigh and whispered in her ear. You knew it was to make you jealous, he was a tease even more when you two were in a relationship. You had really bad arguments that let to the decision of splitting, but since you didn't want to break up the friend group, you agreed to just say the relationship ended on good terms and decided to be friends which was a total lie and both of you knew it.

Now, only a couple months after everything, Lando had shown up with a new "girlfriend" which drove you absolutely mad how uncouth he could be. Bringing this girl in your group out of the blue fully knowing that neither you nor himself had moved on from that deep, long term thing you had.

She looked at you like she wanted to be your friend and get your validation so bad. You didn't know if Lando had told her you were his ex. He didn't even dare mention it when he was introducing her. You automatically hated her, although her big brown eyes seemed lovely and innocent. She didn't have a clue what she had gotten herself into. You pitied her cluelessness.

You noticed Lando's griny glances at you, he kept making sure you were looking before each kiss he left on her cheek. The bastard had all his moves coordinated and planned but you had been with him for too long not to see right through his facade.

You were at your limit, who was he to inflict this hurt on you after all that he had done?

Rage made your body dense as you walked towards Lando's house the night after, when you made sure nobody else was with him. His Friday nights had always been free on purpose to sleep until noon, game, and sleep again. You remember trying to wake him up for lunch and he was dead asleep because he had stayed awake to play with friends.

You rang and he buzzed the door open without asking. Walking towards the stairs you noticed the rose garden you had planted in a corner. The thought of Lando's face after a thorn had poked him in the arm and how he treated the flowers as his enemies forced your lips into a fainted smile. You hated that his memories made you happy. You hated it was him you had those memories with.

You pushed the thoughts away and tried to focus on why you were here. Lando opened the door, a confused look on his face, "y/n? What is it why are you here?"

"We need to talk." And you stormed in.

"Please come in, make yourself comfortable." The sarcasm in his voice was familiar, and now that you weren't in love with him, infuriating.

"Want to talk about what?"

"About how you're being such an asshole."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't act like this Lando I know you did those things on purpose."

"Damn I don't know what you're talking about." He kept his sarcastic tone. You hated it.

You pushed his chest back in anger, "stop playing with me. You know damn well this girl you keep bringing is just a doll to mess with my head."

Lando smiled as if he had been expecting these words from you.

"This is way too low, even for you Lando."

"Everyone thinks we're friends, why can't friends introduce their new girlfriends to their other friends?"

"I'm not everyone. I know this is a lie stop trying to make it sound casual."

"What do you expect me to do? Stay single until you're over me?"

"Yes!" The loud sound that exited your mouth surprised you as it did Lando. You never planned to sound weak or needy. You just wanted to get closure, "look. I'm not trying to control your life or whatever, but what you're doing to make me jealous is messy and fucking pathetic. Fix it. Goodbye." And you started walking towards the door.

"Well did it work?" Lando's voice stopped you. He sounded sort of genuine for the first time in months.

You kept silent and still, wondering what to answer. Turning around to face him you said, "well do you love her?"

"Of course I do. She's very real."

You took one step closer, "stop lying."

Lando took a step closer to you, "stop being jealous."

You took one more step, "she looks way too innocent for you. I pity her."

Lando took another step , "I can teach her."

-"Funny."

-"I know."

-"You're insufferable."

-"I know."

Silence.

Now you were only one step away from eachother. Only one breath. You were mad at him and the tension felt heavy in the air as the sun was halfway set. His eyes looked crazy blue in the last golden rays of sunshine coming in fron his big windows. His face stingy and lips so soft it made you even more angry at him.

Your self control was getting shaky and you felt it shatter when Lando swinged his arms up to hold your face to kiss you deeply on the lips.

You squeezed your hand on his arm in protest to rip him off of you before it was too late but he was desperate.

He kept kissing you harder and harder like you gave him air to breathe.

You hated this. You hated the way his body pulled you in and you hated how it felt so good. He knew his way with you. Every single button, all the nooks and crannies.

You finally eased into the kiss, letting go of Lando's hoodie that was balled up in your fist and started to kiss him back.

His hands unzipped your sweatshirt and pulled it off your arms as soon as he felt that you wanted this as well. You let him. He slipped his hand under your tshirt, pinching your belly, messaging your back.

You let out a heavy exhale.

"I missed you." He whispered into your mouth, putting his lips on yours before you could say anything back.

Lando's hands moved down to your jeans but you held onto his hand to prevent him from going on. He stopped kissing you.

It was all too much for you and you hated him for being so good at this. You stared dead into his eyes, knowing full well that you were helpless, and said, "you fucking bastard."

He giggled when you pressed your debating lips on his again.

You let him kiss your lips, your neck, your collarbone, your breasts, your belly. You let him get down on his knees for you, between your legs.

His wet tongue on you made you jump in a surprising pleasure. The tip of his tongue moving in circular motions, in search of the place that made you moan the loudest. You tried fighting the sensation but failed miserably when he raised his finger to your entrance, messaging and warning about what's to come.

The moan that left your lips after he pushed his finger inside you was involuntary. You could feel Lando smiling on your pussy with the sound. He kept moving his tongue with your hand in his curls; pumping his finger and pulling moans out of you until you felt like you could take it no more. That's when Lando pulled his now soaked finger out and stood up, Leaving you clenching around nothing.

He faced you again to continue his kisses; you could taste yourself on his lips as he took off your tshirt and your bra, leaving you completely naked in the middle of the house. He looked at you once more before taking off his own hoodie you've been pulling on to get rid of since the start, he turned you around and got closer. His bulge rubbing against your butt from under his sweatpants.

"You're so pretty." He whispered into your ear, "wait here okay?"

You turned around to see him almost run to his bedroom to get condoms and you got a chance to take a look at his smooth, tan skin as he walked back.

Lando kissed you shoulder and your back as he slowly bent you over the handle of the couch. Messaging your body as he bent on you to let you feel his skin, his pants were off, your could feel his hard dick against the back of your leg. He adjusted himself on you and pushed in. You weren't hesitant to moan anymore. His length inside you was a familiar sensation of pleasure after this long. He was all you needed.

Lando started pumping deeper into you, making you feel fully stretched. You could hear his little groans and exhales when he grabbed your neck to make you arch your back more, pulling your head towards his mouth. "I bet nobody fucked you like this since I was gone." And he started moving faster. You pushed back your body into his, blurring the lines infront of your eyes.

You came within seconds after that.

He pulled out of you. You turned around quickly, grabbed his shoulders and lead him to the couch to sit down.

"Could you ever teach her this?"

And you climbed on top of him, each leg on each side. Leading his still erect dick to your hole and pushing down on him. Lando threw his head back with a moan. You took his hands and put them on your ass. He squeezed his hands with every movement you made.

You started kissing under his ear, where you knew he was sensitive. Moans started turning into whimpers and he started pushing up his legs towards you. You both moved faster as you reached your high. You nails dug into Lando's shoulder and his hands tight around your back when you both came and you collapsed into his arms.

****

"What a stupid decision." You said through your panting and you both giggled since you knew you were going to make more.

(This is the first time I'm posting a smut one shot online sorry if it's short or lacking♡)

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lando norris smut #f1 smut

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astralstarlight · 3 months

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walking in on you with your favourite toy !

w/ sukuna and choso (separate)

warnings/tags: implied fem! reader (bc that's how i'm thinking about it in my head rn), suggestive, 18+, no curses AU, in a relationship with choso, it's anyone's business who you are to sukuna (housemates maybe??), definitely not in a relationship with him though and you probably have to deal with him walking around shirtless all the fine and looking fine, the toy is a vibrator

a/n: thinking about them a lot recently

Sukuna is not amused. This is not his fault.

If you were going to be doing such private things, then you should lock your door.

"I can explain." You say.

Sukuna gives you a once-over. You're extremely calm for someone who's just had a ruined orgasm. The vibrator is still buzzing a little away from where you'd given up on trying to turn it off and just thrown it to the side for hopes of bringing some small sense of decency back onto your naked form. The blanket is haphazardly tossed over your legs.

It barely covers you.

You're wearing a big t-shirt and nothing else on the bottom half. He got a pretty good glimpse in your panic anyways — wet, wanting, twitching... He can't seem to get it out of his mind anymore.

An eerie acceptance settles over your face. It must be the adrenaline, Sukuna deducts.

"Okay." Sukuna says, crossing his arms and pushing the door closed behind him. "Explain."

"Well." And you have the audacity to hesitate on your words still, as though he isn't already wasting his time and attention on you. "You should knock." Pause. "Next time."

Sukuna lets out a barking laugh. "There won't be a next time, brat." He stalks over to you. It's a bit more imposing than you would imagine, especially when his eyes are scanning over your form as though he's already eating you up in his mind. He decides to toss a side-glance to your vibrator in an attempt to embarrass you further, before drawing his attention back to you.

It works, a brief flicker of panic exposing itself on your face as you seem to finally catch up to the situation.

"Just ask. But don't try to be cute about it." Sukuna continues.

"Sukuna?" You ask timidly, still trying to figure out what he's actually proposing.

"I told you not to be cute about it."

That seems to rile you up, and you feel a flash of annoyance run through you. "I'm cute about everything."

You just get to finish your sentence, before he cups your jaw dangerously tight, tilting your face to look up at him. Perhaps you weren't such a quiet and innocent housemate after all. The way your cheeks squish together is kind of cute actually.

He thinks you might look better crying.

A sound between a questioning mumble and a choke leaves your throat. You open your mouth to say something else, but his fingers are already tracing down to your collarbone. He tilts his head slightly as he feels your breath hitch.

"Lie back." Sukuna says, nudging your shoulder a little.

It's a final warning, you realise. A checkpoint in deciding whether you want to continue or not.

You do follow his instructions, jerking slightly as he manages to slide his hand onto you and press down onto your sensitive clit. His hands quickly move to keep your legs open.

He stops moving for a bit and you peek up at him to see what he's doing. The vibrator is in his hand, looking rather small and pathetic.

"We'll see how easily you cum from this, and depending on whether you impress me..." His eyes travel from your lower half up to your eyes. "I'll show you how good it'll feel to take me."

Choso is polite about it. Every kiss you've shared with him has been soft, sweet even. He's never shown any particular interest in furthering it. It's why you're so oddly embarrassed when he walks in on you with your vibrator pressed against your clit.

"Choso!" You manage to slip the vibrator out of your hands and turn it off, ignoring the urge to pull the blankets over your head.

His face reveals no surprise, nor a blush. A feeling of insecurity runs through you and a stinging starts behind your eyes. Huh.

In the silence, he's staring very intently at your closed legs. He takes a step into the room, still saying nothing.

You jump slightly when he sits beside you on the bed. He's uncertain, bordering on nervous as his fingers twitch slightly.

It's quiet enough that you think you should say something.

"Choso—" You say again, in a softer, more reassuring tone.

He cuts you off. "I'll help."

The matter-of-fact tone makes you blush. You forget how straightforward he usually is.

You shake your head. "It's fine. If you're uncomfortable with it or you're not really sure, you don't need to—"

Choso reaches under the covers from where you've thrown your vibrator. The top of it still glistens with your slick. He takes it out, twisting it in his hand as though to investigate it. He presses the button until it vibrates a bit too loudly.

It's not a setting you usually would have set it on to start with.

"Just tell me what to do." He says.

Good thing there's a lot of different settings for him to play with under your guidance.

#sukuna x reader #choso x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk drabbles #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #choso smut #— alathea writes #i care for them a lot #having a little bit of a hands obsession recently #choso kamo x y/n #choso kamo x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you

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kechiwrites · 6 months

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gentle touch

könig x massage therapist!reader kinktober countdown day 5 (body worship)

synopsis: oh, the military boys were your favourite.

wc: 2.8k

cw: massage therapist reader doing bad medical-ish practice, body worship, light sub!konig, mentions of edging, hand jobs, a little oral as a treat, biting, konig being petnamed as he should (honey), size kink, hints at touch starvation, groping, begging, uncut konig, afab!reader, no gendered pronouns or language.

author's note: i know his dick hex code and it's glorious. mdni.

He’s your last appointment of the day. And what a fucking day it had been, ten hours that should’ve been eight, cinnamon scented candles instead of eucalyptus, a rushed lunch because a client had shown up early, not taking “I’m on break” for an answer.

You knock on the faux bamboo door, waiting for your appointment to allow you entry. When he does, so quietly you almost miss it, you open the door, only for your eyes to land on a broad, strong back, still wrapped in a dark grey long sleeve. He turns slightly, just enough for you to see the thin stubble on his chin, cheek and jaw.

"Hello! I didn't catch you undressing did I?" This time he turns all the way around and you are sure your swallow is audible. Hell, you hope it's audible, you want this dude to know just how impressed you are with what you're seeing.

"No." He shakes his head, rubbing his aquiline nose against the inside of his wrist. It must’ve been broken once before, if the uneven bump on his bridge is anything to go by. Why is that hot? That shouldn’t be hot. You eat up the motion, eyes tracking every twitch or movement of his massive arms.

“Oh…" you're ogling him. You need to stop ogling him. "I actually need you to strip down.” The words burn on your tongue. You must say that a thousand times a work week, but this time, when you say it to him, it sounds…dirty. Like a shitty porn set up. Makes your clean white polo feel vacuum sealed to your skin. He takes a step towards you and you shudder a breath, tensing until you realize he’s getting closer to the lockers to your left.

He’s huge, you think, and when he still doesn’t look up at you, content to let the strands of dark brown hair, nearly black hair, hang in his face, you figure he’s shy too.

Cute.

“And you can use the towel to maintain modesty, Mr. König.” You get the inflection of his name wrong, you know because you’d googled it prior, held your phone to your ear in the staff washroom and listened to a soft spoken German man lilt it to you. There’s a hard ‘g’ on the end where it shouldn’t be, and you apologize, trying again to master it. “König.”

“Right.” He murmurs, “Just around my waist, yes?”

Or it could go on the floor and I could rub my clit on your abs.

“Yes, sir. Around your waist.”

You exit the room, closing it softly behind you. You figure you’ll use the few minutes you have to get a bottle of water, or a sedative. Something strong enough to bring you back down to your customary professional detachment.

When you return, he’s where you expect him to be. Face down on his stomach, his head in the cushioned hole. “S-sorry.” He speaks, voice muffled by his position. The apology comes immediately upon the sound of the door closing and you worry his large frame has cracked the massage table or something. You peer around him, looking for any chunks of polished wood or loose screws.

When you don’t find anything you realize he’s apologizing for his scars, the pit marks of bullets dug out in haste and healed with spite, lacerations haphazardly stitched, then redone a second time with the careful, practiced hands of a doctor in no rush.

“Oh, please don’t be. We get military boys all the time. Nothing I haven’t seen before.” You murmur, and it’s a lie of course. Not that you’ve seen scars, of course, you’ve seen some really storied skin in your time here, being near a base and all. No, it was the man who was an oddity. Mandy at the front desk told you that he’d had to duck through the front door.

His skin is also ultra pale in a way military men usually aren't. Near transparent, the sprawling blue lines of his veins thread underneath his skin, and you can see yourself getting distracted tracing some of the pathways with your fingers.

He hums, and you hope you’ve put him at ease a little bit. You haven’t even touched him yet and the tension in his back is glaring. Anxious people tended to hold a lot of stress, anxious soldiers? You’re just glad he’d booked a two hour instead of the customary hour and twenty.

The oil is cold straight from the bottle and you warm it between your palms before you make contact. He’s warm to the touch, bridging on hot, and he flinches when your hands meet his skin. “Was that too cold?” He groans, but doesn’t affirm or deny it, so you figure it must just be the contact. Slowly, you begin with his calves, tending to and pushing on knotted muscle and tense areas, working out kink after kink, soothing his compounded aches. The oil smoothes down his leg hair and you must be going insane because even that is hot to you. His thighs are even worse, strong and muscled and dimpled in the sweetest places. He shivers when your palms glide over his inner thighs, and he clenches them together when your fingers brush the hem of the towel shielding his ass from your greedy view. As quickly as it happens, he relaxes, murmuring another apology. You hum your own response, and push your thumb into an adorable cluster of moles you see just under the towel.

By the time you get to his lower back, König is almost purring, his gentle breathing often interrupted by drawn out, guttural moans. Whines and whimpers that make your blood hot. He’s holding the worst of his tension there, and you have to lean almost all your body weight into the motions of the massage. His hips jerk up and then down just as sharply when you crest your palm over her shoulder blades, and you don’t imagine the keening noise he makes as he grips the massage table. You’re used to military clients being a lot more stoic but it seems Mr. König is most assuredly not the sort. You reach his neck, framing his throat with your palms and using your thumbs to rub firm circles into his nape. His breath hitches and you find yourself cooing. “Breathe for me, I got you.” The soldier’s hips snap downward again, this time hard enough to shift the table beneath him. Which is more than enough to make you pause.

No.

It couldn’t be.

The soft music and sound of the water feature on the wall nearly drown out the curse König whispers, but you catch it, and can’t stop your lips from curling into a pleased little smile. This was just too good. You start to finish up his neck, brushing some of his hair out of the way so you can rub your fingertips into the skin just below his earlobes. You guide him to turn over and when he doesn’t respond, you wonder if he’d fallen asleep.

“Mr. König?”

He makes a wordless groaning noise low in his throat, laying motionless.

“I need you to turn over, honey.” You don’t even realize you’ve pet-named a grown man you don’t know. Which is just as well, because it seems to be what the soldier needs, and he rises from the table, clutching the towel in a tight fist to maintain his scant modesty.

You turn towards the side table, pouring more oil into your palm. When you return to face him, you witness why exactly he was so reluctant to face the ceiling.

He’s at least half-hard, a very noticeable ridge lifting his towel. You can’t stop staring at it, even though you know König is trying his best to ignore it. You circle around him, and begin at the foot of the table, going through the massage cycle again; feet, calves, thighs, arms. You zone out, following through your motions, listening to the man beneath groan and sigh his contentment. You reach his chest, spreading your hands over his pecs. They’re big, just like the rest of him, you think and it’s hard not to fucking drool on him. He’s firm but soft, still pleasantly warm, despite being exposed to slightly below room temperature air. He shifts again when you hit a stubborn knot right below his collarbone, and you pause to check in.

“Still good?”

His breathing is uneven, shuddering and laboured. His hands clench and relax from white knuckled fists.

“Yes.” he hisses through gritted teeth, and you’re worried he’s undoing every bit of relaxation you’ve tried to bring him. It’s painfully clear where the stress is coming from, hidden underneath a paltry white towel, the enticing elephant in the room. You put your hands back on him.

Still got 45 minutes left, after all.

You try your best not to look smug, and you fail miserably.

Every stroke and rub you perform across his chest makes his cock jerk and twitch under the towel. You can practically see the cloudy drops of precum that’d be beading as his tip. Your thumb nail skates across his pectoral and catches his nipple and the whine he makes is so sweet you just have to do it again. Soon, you’re barely massaging him, groping the poor man under the guise of your job. A weak grunt snaps you out of your reverie, and when you glance down his abdomen at that godforsaken towel, you can’t stop the quiet gasp of shock you release at his erection. “Ah, I’m so sorry. Very sorry” His flush spreads from his cheeks all the way down to his chest, a gorgeous stewed cherry colour that overwhelms the pale skin you’d worked into submission. His eyes are screwed shut when you can bear to drag your eyes from his cock to his face. His soft, pink mouth is pulled down at the corners, and the heavy, dark slashes of his eyebrows are furrowed together, creating a wrinkle between them you want to smooth out with a kiss.

“It happens all the time. Are you alright to continue?” Your voice is deceptively calm, serene and soft, when all you really want to do is snatch the towel off the battering ram he’d smuggled in here. Your blood thrums, and you ache at the sight of it, at the mere thought of the ungodly stretch he’d put you through.

You will yourself to keep your hands where they are, force yourself to look literally anywhere else. The faux waterfall ahead of you, the wireless speaker droning pleasant, melodic mood music, fuck, you even try staring at the dimmed light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. But every cry and whine forces your eyes down, tempts you to catalogue every inch of flushed skin and threaded muscle. You gnaw on your own lip, and find your hands drifting down, back around his abdomen. You’ve worked through the area already, there is no excuse to be down there, to slip your finger tips under the towel, to push your digits into the skin around his pelvis. “Is this okay?” You have the gall to ask, when you push your fingers lower still, and basically sign your own severance package. Oh but it’d be worth it, to get what you want, to make this big strong man sob with pleasure, to have his mouth on your throat while you stroked him to completion. The memory of his cock in your hand will keep you warm in the unemployment line.

König nods, turns his head towards you but doesn’t open his eyes. His hips cant upwards again, and his towel shifts, parting to reveal his angry, desperate hard-on. He raises a hand from the massage table, letting his mammoth paw land on your hip. He squeezes you, and exhales sharply through his nose when his thumb touches your bare skin, skating over your flesh underneath your work shirt. “Say it.” You mutter and his eyes crack open, just wide enough for you to spot the crystalline blue of his irises between his inky black lashes.

“Please.”

And that’s all you need.

He’s uncut, and the veins blanketing the length of his cock are visible under his foreskin. Pretty in a way you aren’t used to, a denser blush than the rest of his body, but still quite pale. It feels like your hand is moving in slow motion towards it, your fingers twitching in anticipation. The heat of his dick warms your skin before you even make contact, and when you do, wrapping your fingers around the root of it, your fingertips can’t touch. You press your lips together and try not to squeal happily, glee crinkling your eyes.

God is real and he’s an uncircumcised cock on a shy giant.

König’s erection is searingly hot. Soft skin and hard core, jerking in your palm, leaking steadily, nudging at your hand, insistent. Your brain is working full steam and connections necessary to utilize common sense are still not being made. Slowly, you tighten your hold on him, the weight of it is so imposing, you wouldn’t be surprised if imprints of the veiny surface were branded onto your hand once you withdrew. If you ever withdrew. You should fucking withdraw.

You do not withdraw. Instead, you slide your hand up slowly, choking up on the head of his cock before dragging your grip back down. You chance a glance up at his face, watching his Adam’s apple bob with each laboured swallow. The poor man’s jaw clenches and relaxes while you slide your palm over his flesh again and again. Somehow, he hardens further and your eyes widen impossibly larger, the pit of your stomach doing somersaults at the idea of where you want that thing to go, what you want it to do. You get fevered flashes of König bending you over the massage table in your mind, hands on your hips, rutting without sense or logic into you, so hard the surface scrapes against the floor, all while he sobs, his overwhelmed, overstimulated tears splashing against your back while he rearranged your insides. The head of his cock is exposed every time you slide your hand down towards his pelvis. By the third peek, you’re dragging the pointed end of your tongue over the tip of his dick, licking against his head, and coating your mouth with the taste of him. He grips at your side harder, his fingers digging into your hip as he chases the warmth of your mouth. He keens loud, almost mewling when you pull off him, using your spit to ease your hand’s path. By this point, your handiwork is audible, noisy and wet, König’s voice filling the small room. You use your free hand to guide his head to your chest, letting him bend toward you, press his nose into your tits while he begs for you to finish him.

“Are you gonna come, Mr. König?” You thread your fingers in his hair, letting your nails scratch against his scalp, drift down to his nape and up to his crown again.

“Yes, please, please. Fuck.” His voice is reedy and thin, and he wraps his arm around your waist, burying his face deeper in your chest. And then his whole body trembles, and his hips roll towards you, and for a fleeting minute you consider edging the poor bastard, sliding your hand completely off his cock and watching it twitch violently, uselessly in the air.

But he begs so sweetly. And his next session was already pre-booked.

The hand you kept on his head leaves his hair, and you rub the head of his cock with your flat open palm, jerking him off with firm, fast strokes. He bites down on the curve of your breast, and you’re grateful he still managed to retain enough brain cells to not break skin.

“Do it then. Come, honey.” You trill, feeling his tears wet your skin through your shirt. It’s almost instantaneous, so fast it’s kind of impressive. His body goes bowstring-tight, and he squeezes you so hard it almost hurts. Ropes of sticky white seed shoot from his cock, covering your hand and his spasming abdomen. You slide your hand up, milking just the first two inches of him through his orgasm, until he stops your movements himself, covering your hand with his own.

When you finally break contact, you stare at your hand for what feels like ages, thick beads of his cum rolling down your palm, sliding to your wrist. You extricate yourself from his hold, using your clean hand to brush his sweat damp hair from his forehead. You press that kiss you wanted to the space between his brows. Why start restraining yourself now? His body shivers periodically, and you turn to the sink, to wash your hands clean, clenching your own thighs together, his moans and sighs echoing in your mind. You turn to face him, grinning wide and cheery,

“So...I’ll see you next week?”

hoe, you are getting fired! at least you got a man outta it though.

support city girls who love gummy worms, reblog what you like.

find the rest of the masterlist here.

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talaok · 6 months

Text

Just this once

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!babysitter!reader

Summary: Everyone hates you in town, everyone except for Mr. Miller, who was kind enough to hire you as his daughter's babysitter.

Warnings: mentally and verbally abusive father, angst, unreciprocated love, no happy ending. Smut| oral sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie

Everyone hated you in this town.

Kids at school, moms, dads, even grandparents sometimes.

People crossed the street when they saw you, they waited until you turned around to whisper and scorn to the person beside them.

Everywhere you went, followed dirty looks and rude remarks.

In the hallways at school, at the drug store, pharmacy, park, you name it.

Everywhere, everyone seemed to despise old Carl's daughter just for being born, or maybe, maybe also because of the rumors that spread about her.

Like the one where you dealt drugs, which was not not the truth... but you never dealt meth.

Or the one where you'd fucked half the guys in town,

And least but not last, the one where you were the reason you poor pops had turned to alcohol.

Except they didn't know anything. they didn't know that your "poor pops" had begun his diet of a bottle of whiskey a day long before you were born, that he drove your mom mad to the point where she had fled without so much as a goodbye, leaving behind a few clothes and a stupid scrap of paper where she had written a fucking lie.

I love you

If she had actually loved you, she wouldn't have left.

And they didn't know that all the anger your father had, had turned to you, they didn't know how scary it was, to be afraid of your own father, to be alone at the age of thirteen, to have to take care of yourself, to have to grow up faster than you should.

They all hated you, and you didn't care, you swore you didn't care, because they didn't know, they didn't know shit.

But Mr. Miller was different.

He was the only person, together with his daughter, who had ever shown you kindness, the real kind.

He had seen you sobbing as you ran from your house after your dad had another one of his "episodes".

And god, you were so confused when he stopped you, when he put a hand on your shoulder and asked if everything was alright.

And you didn't tell him then, you didn't tell him everything that was going on and that your dad was an asshole and that your life was hell, you couldn't, there was always this everlasting shame fizzing underneath your skin whenever you felt the need to share. But he hadn't cared, he hadn't cared that you had told him nothing, he hadn't cared that all you did was say sorry and I need to go, because with just a glance it felt like he had seen right through you.

So then he'd told you where he lived, and even if that time he couldn't convince you to come in, it was you who showed up at his doorsteps two nights after, asking for a place to sleep which he offered without so much as a question.

And it was only a week later when you told him everything.

He had sat and listened as you cried and cried, he had stroked your hair and given you tissues, until finally, he offered you a job.

Babysitting his kid.

And you were scared at first, you weren't really equipped for the job, but the moment you met Sarah you realized just how easy it was gonna be.

taking care of her was fun, and it gave you an excuse to be away from your own home, sometimes even at night when the mere thought of seeing your father made you want to puke.

And Mr. Miller was always nice, he made breakfast, overpaid you like crazy, and he listened, he was always there to listen.

"dad, what are you talking about?"

Mr. Miller's backyard was always perfectly mowed, and the treehouse he'd built his daughter stood high on the oak in the middle of it.

"I said-" even if you couldn't see him, you swore he was taking another gulp straight from the bottle " Where the fuck are you?"

"I'm working dad, I told you" you said, trying to remain as calm as possible.

"You working?" he laughed "That's funny" he said, as his laugh turned into a disgusting cough "Tell me where you really are." his voice was slurry, but the anger in it still made you shiver "You at one of your boyfriends' houses?"

"No Dad, I'm at Mr. Miller's house" you sighed, it was sad really, how used you were to this by now.

"Mr. Miller huh?" a hiccup sounded through the phone "You fucking him too? You started going for older guys? Is that it? I bet that's it you little slut" he hissed "Your mother would be so disappointed... to see her only daughter grow up to be such a fucking whore"

There's a difference, when it's strangers calling you names, and when it's your own father.

You'd always wished his words didn't affect you, but somehow, they always found a way to hurt.

No matter how tough you made yourself to be, when it was him, you felt like a kid all over again.

"fuck you" you muttered, as tears pricked your eyes

"Is that how you talk to your father you little bitch? Just wait till you come home, I'll see what you'll have to say then-"

And there were so many things you wanted to tell him, to scream at him, to drill into his non-existing brain, but all you did was press the red button and hung up.

And it took about a second before the tears started flowing like rivers.

You ran back inside the house, forgetting all about closing the glass door as you curled into a ball on the couch, trying to cry as silently as you could, so that Sarah wouldn't wake up.

You hated him. You hated everything, you just wanted to run away and start a new life somewhere else, Canada, Austria, even the fucking north pole sounded better than this.

You were just so tired, so exhausted. Every time you talked to your father all the energy you had, or thought you had left, got drained from your body, and for hours, you remained lifeless,

The only exception was when-

The front door opened, and those purposely quiet footsteps that you would have recognized anywhere, followed soon after.

Him, the only exception was when he was there to comfort you.

You sat up, quickly wiping your tears to try and look somewhat presentable.

"hey," he whispered, entering the living room "Sarah's asleep?"

"mh-mh, yes" you nodded

"I'm sorry I came home this late, it's just that the guys wanted to go out after work and I always tell them no..." he trailed off, as he sat next to you and got rid of his overused boots.

"I-It's not a problem, Mr. Miller"

He shook his head, smiling in that charming way of his as he sat his shoes next to the coffee table and turned to look at you.

"How many times have I told you that you can just call me J-"

But his words died in his throat the moment he caught a glimpse of your red, puffy eyes, (that he'd come to know too well) and of that look on your face.

"What happened?"

They were such simple words, but they hit like tnt too close to a dam, breaking the barrier and causing all the water to run out.

His arms were around you the moment the first tear fell.

"shh" he cooed, stroking your back as you sobbed into his chest "It's alright, everythin's alright, sweetheart"

You wrapped your arms around his broad torso, feeling all his muscles underneath the fabric as you drowned in his scent. He always smelt so manly and so... good.

"I-I'm sorry it's just" A sob climbed up your throat "He-he called and I-I" You never finished the sentence as other tears started flowing from your eyes.

"I'm sorry honey" he cooed, placing his cheek on top of your head"it's ok" he murmured "It's all gonna be fine, I promise"

"w-when?" you cried, finally looking up at him "I'm so tired of this Mr. Miller..."

"soon" he promised "You're a smart girl, you'll get far in life sweetheart, I just know it"

you breathed heavily into his chest for a few minutes, listening to his heart beat as you calmed your own.

"t-thank you" you sniffled

"of course, darlin'"

And as you glanced at him, at his soft beard, at his kind eyes, your brain short-circuited and your mouth got a mind of its own, and before you realized it, your lips were on his.

And god he felt so good

"y/n-" he spoke as you tried to deepen the kiss "What are you doing?"

"I just-" you stuttered, not able to tear your glaze off his soft lips "please" you murmured, not knowing what else to say as you leaned up to kiss him again,

"sweetheart this ain't right I-"

"please Mr. Miller" you begged, placing your hand on his shoulder and pecs, as you left a quick kiss on his lips again "please just this once"

"y/n..." he tried to speak but was interrupted by your mouth finding his neck.

"please" you repeated for the thousandth time, your breath fanning over his neck "just this one time"

"darlin'... I don't know if this is a good idea"

"it is" you quickly corrected him, your kisses lowering down his body, until all you could do was shuffle off the couch to get between his parted legs "it's a really good idea"

You saw him swallow thickly at the sight before him

"no sweetheart, you don't gotta do that"

"I want to" you reassured him, hurriedly undoing his belt and zipper until his black boxers were all that obstructed your view.

You palmed his manhood through the fabric, feeling it harden underneath your palm, before you gently took it out, looking up at him for approval as you wrapped one hand around it and let your lips follow suit.

A loud shuddering breath fled his mouth as you fitted more and more of him into your mouth, and you took it as an incentive to get lower, fully choking on his cock.

"f-fuck" he groaned

You started bobbing your head up and down, your eyes never leaving the sight of him breathing heavily before you.

You were doing good, but you wanted to do amazing for Mr. Miller, so you gingerly took his cock out of your mouth to start a slow trail of kisses and kitty lips down the whole length of him, until you reached his balls, and without a second thought, reserved them of the same treatment, before starting to suck on those too.

"fuck. me." he breathed, throwing his head back as he shut his eyes.

You leaned away for a moment, still pumping him with your hand "Does it feel good?" you asked

"fuck-yeah sweetheart" he gulped, looking down at you "it feels real fucking good- you're-fuck-you're amazing"

The biggest smile ever spread on your face at that, and with a renewed vigor, you got back to sucking his balls even better.

series of profanities continued coming out of his mouth as you got back to his dick, letting your tongue run on his tip for a few moments before getting back to filling your mouth with it.

You watched his hands curl by his sides, and without thinking, you let one of your own travel to his, softly placing your palm over it in a makeshift hold, which wasn't really a hold because he didn't turn his hand to do it properly.

But it didn't matter now, he was enjoying this, something you were doing for him, something you had dreamed of doing to him times and times again, and that's all you cared about.

You bobbed your head for a few more moments before you leaned away and quickly got up to get rid of your pants.

He watched you, too fucked out and torn with guilt and confusion to understand anything anymore, step out of your panties, place your hands on his shoulders, and straddle him.

you reached down for his dick, and without too much of a premise, sank down on it.

"oh god" you moaned, stopping a moment to take a deep breath at the feeling, as a low groan rumbled in his chest.

"you feel so good" you murmured, kissing him passionately as you started riding him.

His hands gripped your waist as a way for him to try and ground himself back on this earth because fuck but, you felt fucking good too

"touch my tits please" you said, ghosting his mouth.

"Sweetheart..."

"Please, Mr. Miller" you pouted, rising and sinking from his cock even faster

"Joel- please call me Joel"

"Please Joel, touch my tits"

And who was he to say no to you when you asked him like that?

One of his big strong hands seeped underneath your top and found your boobs, stroking and grabbing at them heavenly.

You couldn't help but gasp at the mix of pleasures, your head falling to the crook of his neck.

The sound bouncing off the walls of the living room was straight out dirty and the breeze coming from the open glass door on your left softly floated through the room, at times hitting your raw skin.

"oh my god" you whimpered, muffled by Joel's skin "o-oh my"

He was filling every inch of you, stretching you so fucking good it made you want to scream if it wasn't for Sarah sleeping just upstairs.

You lost yourself in him, in his soft grunts, in his most raw scent, in the way his beard rutted against your cheek, and slowly, slowly you felt a bubble form in your belly, getting more and more ready to explode.

"F-fuck" you whined, "I-I think I'm-I'm coming"

His only response was to tighten his hold on you, before you fastened your pace, desperately chasing your high.

your breathing got even heavier as you remerged from his neck to look at him in the eyes and meet his lips with yours once again.

Kissing his was like traveling to another universe, he was just so... perfect

"Joel" you whispered, losing yourself in his hazel eyes, as the pleasure got stronger and stronger until you felt like you could barely breathe "Joel I love you"

You watched his eyes widen slightly but before he could speak your orgasm took over your body and you had to hide your head in the crook of his neck again to try not to moan too loud.

"it's ok" he murmured, placing a hand on the back of your head soothingly "It's all gonna be ok sweetheart"

You rode out your high, never stopping your movements, and by the time you had come down from it, Joel was on the verge of it.

"shit-I'm coming" he groaned "Where do you want it?"

"inside" you whispered without missing a beat

"I c-can't honey-"

"please Joel" you whimpered, starting to get overstimulated "Please fill me up, Joel"

And with that simple sentence, he was done for.

"fuck-shit. shitshitshitshit" That's all he managed to spit out, as ropes of his come filled you up to the brim, just like you wanted.

You took a moment to compose yourself, inhaling his scent one more time, before you slowly got off of him.

And as you did, the moment it was all done, a strange sensation overtook you.

you'd thought that this was all you wanted, that this was gonna make you feel better, and yet... yet you couldn't help but feel like a piece of you was missing, you couldn't help but feel emptier than you were to begin with.

As you watched him hurry to put his boxers back on, you couldn't help but think that, once again, you had managed to fuck everything up.

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remlionheart · 1 month

Note

Can you do a Chuuya x fem reader where her bra can be shown from her white shirt?

pov: you request a simple spicy lil fic from me, but my manic brain is physically incapable of not giving it an entire backstory and plot and making it at least 4k+ words (thank you so much for this idea tho, it was super fun to write! ღ)

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦˚ *

Sex, Money, Feelings, Die

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ My first attempt at Chuuya smut (and goddamn, do I love that angry lil man ★~(◡‿◡✿). New to the city, you're coerced into working for the PM after a drunken night out. Scared and now in the heart of one of Japan's most notorious criminal organization's headquarters, you decide to reclaim some of your power by ~*teasing the absolute fuck out of Chuuya Nakahara~*. 4.8k words. Porn with a plot. I can't even lie, this shit had me giggling and kicking my feet while writing, lemme know whatcha think. luv u ღ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When you'd first moved to Yokohama 2 months ago, you had promised your parents that you'd be safe. That you'd find yourself a decent office job to afford you a lofty apartment and that you'd be settled in relatively quickly. You'd pictured yourself walking amongst tall buildings on your days off. Exploring the city with your coworkers on the weekends. Living instead of just existing in your small hometown.

You thought you had your future all mapped out and maybe you did, but those dreams of normalcy were all but destroyed the night you crossed paths with Koyo Ozaki.

She had noticed you from across the bar, quietly observing the way you'd been drinking by yourself all night. It was odd to see a girl with your beauty and lack of abilities so confidently roaming downtown alone. She wasn't sure if you were brave or naive, but the moment you took a seat next to her to thank her for the whiskey and coke she had ordered you, she realized you were the perfect blend of both.

She'd spent the next hour chatting you up, effortlessly coaxing information out of you without you realizing it. She'd offered you an administrative assistant role for the group she worked for, describing it as a "lucrative" and "underground" organization. You were in no position to say no, especially after spending the last month relentlessly applying to jobs with little to no luck.

You woke up the next day musing about silly things like fate and serendipity as you raided your closet for the perfect first day outfit. You felt like this was your big break. The first stop on the roadmap of adulthood that you'd created for yourself. You ironed a pair all black slacks, pairing it with a white-button up quarter-sleeve shirt, and your favorite suede Mary-Janes. Optimism swirled through your head as you eyed yourself in your bedroom mirror that night. You were determined to be so good at this job.

You showed up freshly showered and prepared when you arrived at the sleek, high-rise building. Ozaki waited for you out front with a rather intimidating dark-haired man who introduced himself as Mori, head of the fucking Port Mafia.

Your anxiety rose with each step you took behind them, quickly realizing that this was not the run-of-the-mill clerical job you had envisioned while hazily chatting with Ozaki over whiskey-neats. This was an underground criminal organization full of some of the strongest ability users in the world. You had absolutely no idea why you were here. Why you'd been selected, let alone trusted, to work alongside these people.

You were given your own small office, equipped with a bare desk and landline phone. Mori told you to stay put, explaining that you were to stay out of sight until further notice. You were essentially there as a cover-up.

Apparently, they'd been scouting for girls like you. New to town and completely clueless. They wanted to bring in a handful of these 'administrative assistants' to help keep up the illusion that this was just another ordinary building in the business district of Yokohama and nothing more.

Mori left you with a curt warning about the temperament of the other Mafia members and a haunting, "Welcome to the team." as he closed the door to your office and disappeared down the long corridor. Your heart was slamming into your chest, your anxiety growing the longer you sat. You were angry. Disappointed in yourself for being such an easy target.

You sat for at least an hour staring at the wall in existential dread, wondering what you'd done to end up here. Wondering what you were going to have to do to get out now that you were here. Even if it wasn't necessarily a "job", it still didn't seem like something you could just casually walk away from.

You were in the middle of the Port Mafia's headquarters and you were rightfully, terrified.

The sound of two muffled voices pulled you away from your thoughts while you froze in your chair, realizing that they were right outside your door.

"You're fuckin' with me, right?"

"No, that's really where they're keeping her. She's going to be a fulltime member."

"A member?" it was the first man again, his voice full of shameless snark and volume as he laughed at the idea. "A Mafia member with no ability? C'mon, Akutagawa. Even Mori isn't that stupid."

"There's going to be more, she's just the first to show up."

Tension crept along your spine when both voices came to a curious stop, one quietly scolding the other before the heavy wooden door began to creak open.

A pair of azure eyes stared back at you, disheveled shoulder-length red hair draping off of one shoulder as he mumbled, "Holy shit."

The taller of the two, draped in a long black coat, tried to pry him away, but he shrugged him off with an irritated. "Chill out, I just wanna introduce myself to her."

The dark-haired man scoffed and continued down the hallway while his ginger companion closed the door behind him, leaving just the two of you looking back at each other skeptically.

Despite his height, he had a powerful demeanor. A blend of apathy and cockiness that exuded off of him as he carefully made his way towards you. "So, you're the new girl, huh?"

Your eyebrows furrowed when you looked back at him, your words suddenly stuck in your throat as his foot made contact with your desk.

You managed a nod, remembering the way Mori had advised you not to engage with the other Mafia members, but what were you supposed to do when you were suddenly locked in a room with one?

"God, we really can't just have one normal day around here, can we?" He sighed, almost seeming embarrassed as his shoulders dropped and he leaned against your desk in the spot next to you. "Stealin' girls out of bars? Tch, the hell are they thinkin'?"

His opposition to his boss' plan made you relax a bit. It was the first time all day that you thought you might make it out of here okay.

He picked up on your apprehension rather quickly, taking his hat off and setting it down before extending a gloved hand out to you. "Chuuya." He said simply.

You stared at him for another moment or two before introducing yourself, trying but failing to mimic his nonchalant tone.

"Hey," He said, lightly nudging your foot with his, "You're gonna be alright. I'm sure this gig will only last for a couple of weeks until they move on to their next big, idiotic idea."

"You think so?" It was the first time all day that you felt like you could breathe.

"Trust me, Mori's plans are always changing. He'll probably cut you a fat check for hush money and then send you on your way sooner than later. Just lay low in the meantime, yeah?"

Your eyes were still locked as you nodded at him again, giving him a feeble, "Okay... Yeah, I can do that."

"Good." He smirked, pulling himself away from your desk.

You watched him pause just before exiting the room. He turned around to face you again, his gaze landing a bit lower than your eyes this time.

"And maybe uh -" If you didn't know any better, you'd swear that you saw a flash of red flare across his cheeks. "Maybe don't wear that bra with a white shirt next time."

Out of all of the anxiety and fear that you'd been drowning in over the last few hours, your choice of outfit had been the very last thing you'd considered worrying about until just now.

You looked down, noticing what he meant as you saw the dark, lacy fabric of your Victoria's not-so-secret peeking through the white of your blouse. Your tits were pushed perfectly together, nearly on full display through the sheerness of your shirt.

He flashed you another faint smirk before clicking the door shut, once again leaving you to your own crippling thoughts as your head dropped into your hands.

What an absolutely mortifying first day.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The next few shifts were a blur.

You'd clock in. Sit for what felt like an eternity in your bleak little office. Leave mid-day to grab lunch at a cafe across the street. And then head home 9 hours later despite the fact that you’d hardly done anything.

You'd learned to bring in books and cross-stich patterns to keep yourself busy throughout the day instead of rotting away at your desk. It wasn't an ideal situation, but if Chuuya was right and there really was a big check waiting for you around the corner, you'd decided that it was worth it to see this through. Because no matter how nervous you got each morning, the painful truth was that you couldn’t afford to turn down easy money.

By the end of the week, you found yourself doing more than just sneaking in romance mangas to make the job more bearable though. You were doing everything you could to gain back even a semblance of power.

If you had to be here, you had decided that you were going to make it everyone's problem.

With the ginger's words still fresh in your mind, you made it a point to wear darker bras. Tighter blouses. Shorter skirts that barely covered your ass. It had almost become an inside joke with yourself at what a distraction you'd become to the Port Mafia. Maybe couldn’t make these men fear you, but you could certainly make them trip all over themselves any time you entered the building.

You'd hardly been able to keep a straight face yesterday afternoon when Akutagawa's coffee fell from his hands and cascaded around him after he saw you walking down the hall in black knee-high stockings. You'd finally managed to make everyone here as uncomfortable as they'd made you and it felt good.

You were half-way through the iced matcha you'd picked up on lunch, sitting with your feet propped up on your desk as you continued to embroider the word "fuck" in pretty, cursive letters next to a pink and yellow flower when a knock arrived at your door.

You quickly stashed the circular cross-stitch pad in one of the desk drawers and straightened your back as Tachihara poked his head into your office. "Yo, new girl. Nakahara wants to see you."

Your brows knitted together as you looked back at him in quiet confusion.

No one had ever requested to see you in the time that you'd been here. Even in your attempts to disrupt their daily tasks, they'd still not bothered to learn your name. But now... you were expected to go see Chuuya... in his office?

"Why?" It was the only question you could think to ask.

"Dunno," Tachihara shrugged. "but I wouldn't keep him waiting. He's kind of an asshole." And with that, you were once again left alone and anxious.

You took a breath, standing up to smooth down the fabric of your skirt before venturing down the hallway.

You did your best to push Tachihara's warning out of your head, reminding yourself of the kindness Chuuya had shown you on your first day while your heels clicked across the marbled floor.

Maybe he wanted to tell you that he'd talked to Mori and that your time with Port Mafia was finally up. Maybe he wanted to hand deliver the check you'd so desperately been waiting for. Maybe he just wanted to see how you were doing. Whatever it was, you were holding onto hope that there wouldn't be any more bad news.

You let out a sharp exhale as you rounded the corner and found yourself standing in front of his office. You gave the door a light tap, fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve when he finally appeared.

His eyes traced over you slowly, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth as he counted not one, not two, but three undone buttons along your blouse that revealed the deep-purple push-up bra decorating your chest.

"Get in here."

His tone was clipped, dripping with what felt like vexation as he closed the door behind you.

His office was much bigger than yours, adorned with high-rise windows that overlooked the city and pristine black marble flooring that matched his leather furniture. The room was dark, just barely lit by a lamp on his desk. You wondered how it was possible for him to get any paperwork done in here but then promptly realized that with his ranking, paperwork was probably far beneath his paygrade.

Still not entirely sure how to approach the situation, you hesitantly took a seat on the over-sized armchair across from his desk.

"Quick question," he said, standing in front of you with his arms folded over his chest, his voice still riddled with irritation. "What does the phrase 'lay low' mean to you? Because I can tell you right now, this ain't fuckin' it."

Your pupils widened, his words hanging heavily in the space between you.

Your mouth opened and then closed again, too focused on the way he was staring at you to form a proper response.

"Is it -" you wavered, mustering up all the courage you had to try and play this off as innocent confusion rather than what it actually was: sarcasm. "Is it my outfit?"

If looks could kill, you would've been 6 feet under.

Chuuya's eyes darkened, a flustered hand rubbing feverishly over his face as he struggled to keep his composure. He wasn't sure if you were trying to piss him off or if you were just genuinely the dumbest girl he'd ever come in contact with.

"Yes," He said with all the restraint he could possibly manage, his teeth nearly grinding together with each syllable. “The outfits are getting out of hand. You've gotta stop."

You were playing a dangerous game, but you were slowly starting to realize that you were... winning.

"What's wrong with them?" you asked, pretending to cover your chest in embarrassment.

You wanted to hear him explain it. Hear him tell you in his own words that you couldn't wear short skirts anymore because it was causing too many unexpected erections around headquarters.

"I -" The poor redhead looked as though he was going to have an aneurysm if you kept this up much longer.

He snapped his eyes shut and let out a frustrated exhale, his hand now bawled into a fist at his side. "Listen, a lot of the guys around here have... noticed you, okay? And I can't take one more day of hearin' those fuckin' assholes talk about how they caught a glimpse of your ass in the break room. Got it? I'll buy you some new clothes if I have to. Just please, no more shirts like this, alright?"

He was actually bargaining with you. Entering the third stage of grief as he tried so hard to keep his cool. To keep his eyes locked with yours and nowhere else. To explain all of this in the nicest way he could.

It was in that moment that you realized where the real source of his trepidation was coming from.

Hearing his coworkers ogle over you was probably annoying for sure, but the more damning, infuriating fact of the matter was that he was ogling over you too. And he was fucking tired of not being able to get any work done when he knew that you were right down the hall. He was pissed that he had to come into his office every morning and lock the door just so he could jerk himself off to the idea of you.

He was in so many words begging you to stop because he wasn't sure how much longer he could take seeing so much of your body without being able bend you over his desk like he did in his mid-morning daydreams.

He was losing - both his resolve and this game at an alarming rate.

"Hmm," you hummed, toying with a pen you'd found wedged between the cushion of his chair. "Well, I'm sorry. I just like feeling pretty before I come in. I didn't know it was creating such a problem for everyone."

The wheels in Chuuya's head were spinning.

Emotions weren't his strong suit and doing these mental gymnastics with you was making him need a cigarette.

"It's -" he sighed, groaning as he forced himself to backpedal. "It's not your fault. I mean, you do look pretty, y'know. It's just... distracting, is all."

It was hard to hide your smirk.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't think he was a bit distracting himself, but he didn't need to know that. Not yet anyway.

"Okay, well," you conceded as you began to stand up. "I’ll wear a turtleneck or something tomorrow then.” You shot him a small smile as you got to your feet, "Promise."

He looked marginally relieved by your understanding. "Sounds good." He huffed, rubbing at the back of his neck while following behind you as you made your way out of his office.

But just before you reached the door, you accidentally dropped the pen you'd been fidgeting with. Bending over without warning so that your ass was right in front of him, peaking out of your skirt as he walked straight into you, his hips suddenly meeting yours.

You thought he might actually kill you this time with the guttural noise of frustration that escaped him.

He grabbed you by your shoulders the second you were upright again, spinning you around so that you were forced to face him.

“Okay, seriously." He said between gritted teeth. "Just what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath hitching in your throat as you watched the unfettered anger flicker through his blue eyes.

It was a stupid move, you knew that before you did it, but you didn't expect it to draw this much of reaction out of him. His restraint was lost. Composure long gone while he waited for you to say something with his face mere inches away from yours.

"Sorry," You lied, "It slipped out of my hand so I -"

"Bullshit." He snarled. "Enough with this innocent act. What do you want out of this, huh? For every guy in Port Mafia to want to fuck you? Is that what you're gettin' at here?"

"No." Your head shook before you even had time to think about what you were about to say. "Not everyone..." Your eyes were still glued to his. "Just you."

You didn't know what you were doing anymore or where all of this recent shamelessness had come from, but there was something about being here that made you feel like you could do anything. Be anyone. You weren't sure if it was the power or the crime or the ungodly amount of money that Port Mafia was raking in, but the collective feeling of chaos that these walls housed was finally latching onto you too.

You didn't even flinch when you said it, instead continued to stare at him unapologetically, noting the way his grip had tightened around your shoulder the longer he looked back at you.

"What?"

If the wheels in his head had been spinning before, they were now fully off the ground, exploding into the air as his gaze drifted along your face. Searching intently to make sure you were actually being serious this time before he went any further.

"You really want me to fuck you that bad?" he asked, the warmth of his mouth now ghosting yours.

The question went straight to your center, wetness seeping between your legs as you nodded back at him.

Truth be told, your midmorning fantasies while cross-stitching the last few days hadn't been much different than his.

The gravity manipulator's fingers were suddenly tangled into your hair, his body forcing your back against the door while his lips collided with yours.

"Y'know you could've just asked instead of doin' all this bratty shit, right?"

His mouth was warm, his movements somehow urgent and careful at the same time as his hands wandered along your curves.

You smiled against his lips, letting out a breathy, "I'm sorry." as his palm began to graze the inside of your thigh.

"No, you're not." He smirked, sucking your bottom lip in between his teeth before biting down with just the right amount of pressure. "But you will be."

You let out a small whimper as he placed his free hand under your chin, moving your head to the side so that he could continue his descendent down your neck.

His leg wedged itself between yours, brushing against your clit while his mouth worked along your collarbone.

You were too lost in the feeling of it all to realize that he'd been leaving a trail of meticulously placed bites down the nape of your neck. Bruises in the shape of his mouth that he knew everyone would see.

"Chuuya -" you tried to protest, but it was more of a moan than an objection. "You - fuck, you can't -" You grinded helplessly against the firmness of his leg. Hips rocking back and forth, desperately trying to gain friction while he kept on nipping away at you.

"What's wrong, babe?" he purred against your sensitive skin. "You're wearin' a turtleneck tomorrow anyway, remember?" his breath fanned across your chest as he ripped the remaining buttons off of your shirt. A gloved hand palming at your chest, sliding your bra down so that your tits were fully exposed for him before you felt his tongue glide across your nipple.

Tachihara was right, he was kind of an asshole. But for some terrible reason, you were living for it. Almost embarrassed by how bad you wanted him. Wriggling against him and riding his leg. Whining while you let him leave visible marks on you and destroy the only clothing you had.

"C'mere." He pulled his head away from your chest, swiftly grabbing you by the arm and leading you back to his desk. He picked you up with ease, shoving a binder aside to sit you down in front of him.

"Spread your legs for me." His voice was heady, eyes glossed over with lust as you complied with his demands.

He held his hand up to his mouth, removing his black glove with his teeth before pushing your skirt up and sliding your underwear to the side. He bent over slightly, running two rough fingers along your clit as he watched your nails dig into the edge of his desk.

"Fuck," he groaned, still not taking his eyes off of you. He'd barely done anything and you were already soaked, your pussy practically throbbing for him. “You really do want me that bad, huh?"

“T - told you.” You whimpered, your head tilting back as he drew slow, blissful circles around you.

He kept up the same pace, basking in the way you were so easily falling apart for him.

“Chuuya, please.”

A smirk tugged viciously at the corner of his mouth, slipping a finger into you this time as your walls swallowed him. "Please what, baby?"

You may have had him in the first half, but you were now on the losing end of this game. Forgetting how to speak altogether as you watched him part your legs even further, bending all the way down to rest his head between your thighs.

You moaned at the feeling of his tongue pressing against you. The heavenly lines he was drawing uppp and downnn your center with his middle finger still sliding in and out of you. He was generous in the way he handled you, making sure he didn't miss a single spot. Lapping and slurping up every bit of cum he could as he added in another finger. Groaning against you the louder you got for him.

The only word you seemed to be able to remember was his name, repeating it over and over while your nails lodged deeper into his mahogany desk and your body shamelessly grinded against the warmth of his mouth.

You were in a delirious daze, losing yourself completely to the way he was devouring you.

He could feel you getting close too, noting the frantic rhythm of your hips. The gorgeous, fucked-out noises you were making for him. The death grip your walls suddenly had on him. He knew you were right there, right where he wanted you.

"Chuuya, 'm - I -"

Your legs were locking around his head, shaking uncontrollably as your hand ran through his hair.

He'd never admit it, but he almost could've came at the sounds you were making alone. The pouty way that you called out his name each time his fingers plunged into you was almost enough to drive him over the edge. You were so pathetic and adorable and he was determined to make everyone in Port Mafia hear just how needy you were for him.

As much as he wanted to edge you for what you'd done to him, as much as he wanted to make you beg and plead for him to let you cum, he couldn't fucking pull himself away from you. He was just as lost as you were, drowning in your cunt and not at all wanting to be saved.

His tongue didn’t leave you until he was absolutely sure that you'd ridden out every last wave of your orgasm, still pumping his digits in and out of you until you couldn’t take it anymore.

He came up for air with an exhausted smile, wordlessly coaxing your lips apart with his thumb before bringing the two fingers he had fucked you with into your mouth. Letting you clean off the blend of slick and salvia the two of you had created together.

"See how fucking good you taste?" he panted. "I think this is gonna be a real problem for both of us."

An enamored shade of pink brushed across your cheeks as he dropped down onto the chair across from you, running a tired hand through his hair.

"At least I won't be here much longer, right?" You said, playfully kicking his leg with your foot.

"Oh yeah," he smirked. "That actually reminds me..." Your eyes widened as he shifted around to dig an envelope out of his pocket. "Mori wanted me to give this to you."

Your hands trembled, opening it as delicately as you could to make sure you didn't rip anything when a check for 1,490,200 yen fell into your lap.

"Think that'll be enough to buy yourself a shirt that fits?"

Your eyes snapped towards him in disbelief, your pulse ringing through your ears as you tried to process that you'd somehow made this amount of money in a little over a week.

"Is this -" You stammered, thinking back to what he had told you when you first met. "Is this like a severance check then? ...Hush money or whatever?"

"Tragically, no. Mori wants you to stay."

Your hand instinctively flew up to your neck, covering the love-bites that the redhead had left you with, horrified at the realization that everyone was going to see them. Even more horrified at the fact that they had probably heard how you’d gotten them.

"What?"

"Yeah, he said somethin' about you how you've been 'boosting the morale' around here."

Your head felt like it was going to explode.

You had not only been marked by Chuuya Nakahara, but you were now being asked to stay in Port Mafia.

You couldn't decide which was worse.

"So... that means..."

"Yep. We'll be seein' a lot more of each other." He confirmed while checking his watch. "But hey, you better get outta here, Rando and I have a meeting in 10 minutes."

You looked down at your lack of clothing, the spit and cum that was still stuck to your skirt, the obscenely noticeable bruises that he'd so proudly gifted you with.

"Give me your shirt." you demanded.

"Nah."

The grin he shot you was so cocky, so vile, so... hot.

"Chuuya." You whisper-shouted, biting back your own stupid smile. "Be so fucking for real right now, I can’t go out there like this.”

“Shoulda thought about that before you put on that skimpy-ass outfit I guess.” He shrugged.

You hopped off his desk, straddling him in his chair as you forcefully began to undo the buttons along his collar.

The room filled with suppressed laughter, neither one of you able to contain it anymore as he finally conceded, wrestling you off of him. "Alright, alright, chill. I have extras in here, hang on."

You both stood up, your eyes locked on him while he walked over to an expensive looking armoire in the corner of the room.

He pulled a white shirt that resembled the one you were wearing earlier off of a hanger and brought it over to you, guiding your arms up so that he could put it on.

His movements were calculated, almost thoughtful as he dressed you, adjusting it so that it covered up most of the damage he'd done.

"There." He said, double-checking his work. "Now get out of here before I decide to rip that one off of you too.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Part 2! ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

#chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #bsd x reader #bsd smut #soukoku #bsd x you #bsd chuuya #remwrites #skk #someone please take my laptop away #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara bsd #nakahara chuuya #bsd x female reader

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blondephenobarbitol · 4 months

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I'm thinking about the implications again.

The numbers that the hive mind performs aren't random. Both the lyrics and the choreography will often boil down to to one purpose: to cause pain. (Pokey is ruthless.)

Sometimes it's physical, and that's easy to spot. The cops spend half of their song just kicking and pushing people to the ground. Join Us And Die literally ends with Ted getting beat up.

And when the choreography doesn't allow for it, the lyrics are specifically trying to elicit an emotional response. The hive uses Alice to torment Bill. He's watching someone he loves die in front of him. It does the same for Charlotte.

Okay, the hive gets a kick out watching people suffer. That's not new information. But the implications...

Look at Inevitable. It's a pretty significant shift from the rest of the numbers. Whereas those seem tailored for pain and fear, Inevitable seems to be comforting? Just look.

Paul walks out, and the first thing he does is hug Emma. Which doesn't seem significant at first, but think: Did Bill get that same courtesy?

Alice's first line is meant to taunt Bill. Paul's is almost consolatory; " Emma / I'm sorry / you lost." I won't dissect this completely, the theory is that this first line is genuine. Paul is actually sorry that their plan failed.

And when you take a look at the choreography, it becomes clear that it's a lot kinder than the other songs.

We see Paul waltzing with Emma and kissing her hands. And even though he's not letting her get away, he's not trying to hurt her. He's not even trying to intimidate her. He's shown more than once bending down--getting on her level, like you would to a child--as opposed to towering over her.

The lyrics aren't messing with her either. Whereas Sam is manipulative and Alice is spiteful, Paul's lyrics are reassuring.

"I'm still the man you trust," is a lot different than "Don't you twust me?" when you get right down to it. It carries with it a connotation of 'I'm okay, and you will be too.'

"What if I told you I made it?" actively contradicts the 'I killed your loved one' narrative that Alice used with Bill.

It's not like Emma is buying any of it. She's still terrified. Paul doesn't need to hurt her or taunt her in order to scare her, just singing was enough. But it's clear that he's not trying to.

The hive mind gets a kick out of watching people suffer. Emma is the leading lady. You'd think that she's the one who should have the most brutal song. But she just doesn't. It seems like her song is trying to be the kindest.

We know it's implied that once they get infected, people are still conscious inside their musical doppelgängers (source: the line "your own body is your front row seat" as well as Sam breaking through its control long enough to say "Charlotte" before falling back under).

I think Paul was conscious during Inevitable. I think he knew that they weren't escaping this. I think he knew he was eventually going to kill Emma, and there was nothing he could do about it. But I think he didn't want her to suffer.

Instead, I think he resolved to give her as kind a death as he could. He would lie. He'd tell her he was happy and that she was safe. He'd be as gentle as the hive mind allowed. She was running out of time, so he'd love her with every second they had left.

(but that's just a theory...a musical theory... and cut)

#tgwdlm #the guy who didn't like musicals #emma perkins #paul matthews #starkid #team starkid #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #lords in black #pokotho #pokey #npmd #black friday #theory #scene analysis #analysis #lauren lopez #jon matteson #jeff blim

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adhbabey · 8 months

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Let's talk about some lesser known symptoms of autism! Maybe this will help some of you get a broader perspective on what this can be like. There is a whole grab bag of symptoms of autism, but here are some ones you may not know that you have.

Focus on truth

What does this mean? Well glad you asked. This is the focus on facts and logic rather than anything else. People have shown this as autistic people may refusing to lie because it goes against what they find as true. But that's not always the case.

Have you ever used logic to try and figure out your emotions?

Are you someone who doesn't understand why others may speculate when the current knowledge is right there? (such as subtext versus canon knowledge or theoretical arguments)

Do you find it frustrating when others avoid their problems as a way to avoid figuring out negative things? (such as avoiding conflict in a friend group)

Is it easy for you to talk about your strengths and flaws? Do you know your likes, dislikes and limits pretty well?

High context communication

This is preference on details and the full context of any situation. Often going into great detail and backstory to anything.

Do you feel as though you need to overexplain to give the person everything they need to know?

Have you ever apologized to someone by explaining the deep and meaningful reasons of why you did it, before you said you were sorry? And maybe even felt upset or confused why they reacted badly?

Have you ever felt stressed out because you wanted to give others full detail but they either interrupted you or cut you off?

Are you stressed out by people who tell you what to do and not why they want you to do it?

Are you ever told that you talk back a lot?

Do you prefer recipes versus verbal/vague instructions? (All the things that you need such as ingredients, measurements, prep time, etc.)

Do you really like watching deep dives and knowing about the whole history of something you're even vaguely interested in?

Identity diffusion

This is not everyone's experience, and it is common in a variety of other disorders such as DID and BPD. However, it is when you do not know who you are in regards to others. This is also known as identity disturbance.

Have you ever felt like an outsider without knowing why?

Are you deeply interested on what other people think of you? Especially if it's all the time?

Do you really like taking personality tests and quizzes? Are you interested in horoscopes?

Do you feel like you don't fit in any one specific group? Either being a loner, or hopping in between many different groups?

Do you ever feel weirder than the "weird kids" group? Do you not really get along or feel like you belong with them?

Do you have low self esteem when it comes to comparing yourself to your friends? Do you feel like they're better or more capable than you?

Do you feel drastically unimportant and not as interesting or cool as everyone else?

Have you ever related to narratives surrounding a character that is the last of their kind?

Do you feel like your identity is a vast and gaping void, that even if you learn a little bit, that you'll never know everything?

Internalized repetition

This is one of those traits that not every autistic person experiences, but that some might. You could say that for all autistic traits, but hey, good to know regardless. Because of internalized repetition, you may not do many external stims, besides vocal.

Do you listen to a song over and over again? Perhaps having a playlist on repeat?

When stressed out, do you type the same word or phrase over and over again?

Do you like looking at the same things, such as the same color or the same artist's works?

Do you really like certain patterns, crystals or aesthetics?

Do you enjoy games with recognizable fighting patterns? (Such as character rotation, boss battle rotation, etc.)

Struggling to connect to others *

This is something that's been characterized by struggling to connect to others through their emotions, but the opposite is actually true for many autistic people. *I will be talking about those who struggle to connect to others who are emotionally distant or unavailable. Being emotionally distant or not showing emotions externally is a trait that many autistic people share, but for those without alexithymia, they may struggle to understand why anyone wouldn't like to talk about their emotions. I don't know the specific symptom term for this, so please bare with me. If anyone would like to inform me about what this is called, please tell me.

Do you struggle to talk with dry texters, or tend to over-examine people's tone through text?

Do you have anxious attachment?

Do you feel disconnected with many other autistic people and struggle to make friends or talk to them?

Do you feel embarrassment or shame with being emotionally sensitive?

Have you fallen down the rabbit hole of things like starseeds, star children or empaths?

Do you want to talk about serious emotions a lot, even when its not appropriate?

Do you trauma dump or wish people would become more emotionally intimate with you? Do you enjoy it when people share their deep traumas with you, even if it's triggering?

Are you constantly reassurance seeking?

There is plenty more symptoms out there, and these are just a few that stood out to me, because I think I may be autistic. I've always related somewhat, but never connected the dots. But there are reasons for that, such as identity diffusion and thinking I'm different from everyone else no matter what. I struggled because I didn't seem to have a lot of the outward and visible symptoms that were often talked about. I thought every autistic person had alexithymia, when that's just not true. My best friend, who has similar symptoms to me, along with another close friend of mine, have a similar presentation of autism. And it's taken quite a bit for me to accept or process. I feel like I'm faking my experiences just because I've self diagnosed before. And I'm angry that ADHD isn't given enough significance.

But I think I might be autistic, and this article that I based this post off of, confirmed it. So here's my post informing and coming out on that. You can be autistic and highly masking without actually knowing what's going on is masking. You can be autistic and have a spectrum of verbality, you can be autistic and struggle to connect to anyone who isn't immediately emotionally intimate with you. You can be autistic and not relate at all to other autistic people.

You're not alone.

#babey posts #actually autistic #audhd #autism #autism spectrum disorder #i know its a spectrum disorder but bro it doesn't feel like it #its broader than you might realize #you can be autistic and struggle to accept it #this has been the most frustrating and painful realization #i just. i feel a lot of negative feelings at myself about this #but i want to curate a place for people to exist without judgement #and before the anti self dx ppl come in here. this has never been the blog for you.#if youre like this. you belong here.#and if you just understand this. you also belong here.#you're not alone

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queenofapeacefuldawn · 2 months

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SxF Crack Theory: The Identity Of [REDACTED]'s Father

Hear me out here.... but, maybe, Twilight's father could be Yuri's boss, aka, the SSS Lieutenant.

Now, this might be a crack/joke theory, but here is the evidence I have to back up my claim (yes, I'm presenting it because I'm just Like That):

(Warning: Manga spoilers ahead)

Exhibit A: Physical Characteristics

Here is a picture of Agent Twilight:

Here is a picture of Yuri's boss (who, from now in, will be referred to as YB, for my own convenience):

We can see that Twilight and YB have very similar facial characteristics: bluish-grey eyes, blond hair, and a similar face shape (nose, jaw).

We never see Twilight's father's full face: only the lower half, because he has presumably forgotten his face, along with his mother's (King of Emotional Repression™️), but we can see that his jawline and shape of his mouth are very similar to Adult Twilight.

Oh, and look at that- rather pronounced cheekbones, if I do say so myself. Where else did I see those? Hmmm

Exhibit B: Ambiguous Fate

During the War Arc, we're never told about [REDACTED]'s father's fate. We just know he never returns to his family: and the reason why he left for the very last time, was that, "Things have been heating up at the border. I need to take a little business trip." The fact that his, a (presumably) rather important man's, body was never recovered: nor were [REDACTED] or his mother informed of his death. Of course, his body could have been lost in the bombings, or the part of [REDACTED] finding out about his father's dead could have been omitted, but for most of the part, we're left to assume about his father's dead. And... this sounds familiar to another instance...

Like the instance of [REDACTED]'s friends. He (and we) assumed they'd died in the warehouse as children, but later we see that they're alive and in the army (only to die a second time, RIP), but this time, for their deaths to be confirmed: for [REDACTED] to only receive their dog tags after the failed campaign.

This may have been a setup: for Endo to reintroduce [REDACTED]'s father, later in the story, as YB.

Anyway, one thing I've learned after reading and watching so many books, comics, and TV shows: never assume a person's dead, not unless their body/proof of their death has been explicitly shown. This belief was only reinforced after [REDACTED]'s friends.

And, [REDACTED]'s father's last known place was around the Westalian-Ostanian border. He could have escaped in the crossfire, theoretically...

Exhibit C: Fatherly Nature (?)

We all love a good found-family dynamic in the workplace. It's there with WISE, it's there with Garden, and it's kinda there with the SSS.

My main argument about this stems from the chapter which focuses on Yuri's work.

We see YB continuously worry about Yuri's physical health, in panels like:

Obviously, this doesn't happen only in this chapter. Whenever Yuri's there, YB is also there, yelling at him to a) go to sleep, or b) STOP GETTING HIT BY BUSSES OH MY FUCKING GOD IT CAN'T HAPPEN SO MANY TIMES TO ONE PERSON-

And, of course, there's the Yuri Sick Fic chapter:

Not gonna lie, this point is extremely weak, if I brought this up in court I'd be laughed out of there-

Anyway, I just wanted to put this in.

If it does turn out that YB is [REDACTED]'s father then. Bestie. Buddy. How are you managing to be a better father-figure to some insolent kid who gets hit by busses than you were to your actual son, like 20 years ago. Maybe he learned along the way.

Exhibit D: Symbolism (???)

Oh, look, another point I'm pulling out of my ass! But whatever, you're reading it <3

During the War Arc, we see Twilight sustain two major injuries:

One, as a child, when his home is bombed:

And two, as an adult, in the army:

and these injuries are both to his left eye.

Of course, this has given rise to theories of him not being able to see his left eye, it being his blind spot, and Yor guarding his blind spot on missions, etc., etc., which I love bc ✨Twiyor✨

Getting back on point, if we look at YB, we see that he has injuries too... or rather, remnants of them, what with the scars he has...

which, are also on his left eye. Huh! Interesting... this might just be me, but could this be parallels to how similar he and his father were? Are? His father also wanted peace between Ostania and Westalis: but he taught his child that in a very harsh manner (by slapping him), but Twilight wants to teach Anya that in a kind manner. Whenever we see him teaching her, he never loses his cool with her (of course, he loses a lot of hope, but this man's a pessimist, what can we do).

Also shows how much kinder Twilight is, compared to his father.

---

Of course, these points are very weak, and it might just be that Endo reused some character designs for efficiency, but let me be, ok!! This is a crack theory!!! Let me be a clown!!!! AKDFJSJF

If I'm being honest, this post was inspired by a convo I'd had with my friend, around the time Chapter 86 was released. She was theorizing that [REDACTED]'s dad is the Shopkeeper, and I was theorizing it was this dude. Of course, our theorizing was sidetracked by Chapter 86, and a certain panel within it, but... WHATEVER.

So, what are your thoughts? Obviously, my own theory is very weak (for example, why would the SSS accept a Westalian citizen into their ranks? Why would he even join the SSS? Could he have defected? Abandoned his wife and kid?), but this was fun to think about, lol. What are your theories? I think the Shopkeeper-is-the-dad theory and the YB-is-his-dad theory are both cool, so, what do you think?

(Also, yeah, I know, his dad could very well be dead. I just refuse to believe it, bc I'm just Like That <3)

#spy x family #sxf #spy x family manga #spy x family headcanon #spy x family theory #spy x family manga spoilers #spy x family anime #agent twilight #loid forger #yuri briar #sss lieutenant

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kaeyachi · 7 days

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some kaeya facts that i want to remind everyone with because I miss him so much! (no angst this time i swear!!...but if you all want angst, I could also deliver hehehe)

1. Kaeya tells the children of Mondstadt some stories! Specifically, one that some forgot or didn't know of is that he has told the orphans under the church's care some horror story about the light in the lamp posts :D He had been shown to do a story telling to Klee while at the Veluriyam Mirage and he has also been reading to Klee her bedtime stories as well

2. Kaeya made Klee's survival rules! Kaeya has definitely done his part on preventing Klee from destroying Mondstadt before Celestia ever could (well, at least lessened the amount of times Mond gets bombed anyway). Anyone else think Kaeya purposely let Klee explode the Good Hunter's stove to avoid going to the Chasm? No? Ok-

3. He takes the attention when he dances! Depending on which language you hear it from, it is either a good or a bad thing. However, I am on team good thing simply because some mercenaries invited him to go dancing with them while he was in Sumeru ( very interesting information, Kaeya! Glad to know they found you so attractive that they did something they don't usually do!)

4. If you call him kind, he will attempt to look mean (and he fails at it lmao), and if he is not being mean, he will try to deny it. The traveler once listed down the kind things he had done for Captain Wu, a Liyue npc, and Kaeya proceeds to tell us that he records people who owe him (which is a lie. He forgot the person he helped TWICE. What he does have a record of is a well-detailed list of Treasure Hoarders and their rankings + patrol areas in Mondstadt). Another instance was during Jean's story quest where Kaeya planned the appreciation party for Jean where he gave the traveler all the credit

5. He is a great gift giver! (unless that person is Diluc because otherwise he will find the ugliest thing ever and gift that... arguably, that kinda sounds like amazing gift giving if we are talking about being an annoying sibling). He remembers passing commentary from friends and coworkers and gifts them accordingly.

6. He has his own intel network (and I'm theorizing that it is just a group of people he has helped before that insisted on paying him back in this way). Kaeya, after some heavy insistence from Captain Wu, asks him if he wants to be a friend or be part of his intel network and follow his commands no matter what. Vile, one of his known informants, also gave us a glimpse as to what it takes to be part of Kaeya's network, and that is the ability to decipher codes and read messages in between.

7. He is incredibly reliable as a knight! Not only do the people of Mondstadt agree that he is the more approachable cavalry captain between him and Diluc, but it is also a known fact that Kaeya has never failed to complete a mission to date (except the one during Diluc's 18th). Nearly every citizen of Mondstadt adores him and knows how reliable he is. Arguably, this success rate could be attributed to his "end justifies the means" mindset that not all find enjoyable, but he is definitely the person to ask if you want something done. Vile has once mentioned that she could just ask Kaeya to do the charming and convincing for her, dubbing him as a prince charming for it.

8. He is one of the people who spends so much time with Klee (potentially attributed by the fact that he also has more free time compared to others). He spends so much time with her that Klee mentions a few interesting things about Kaeya, such as the fact that Albedo draws Kaeya frequently (enough times that Albedo says Kaeya could be drawn by him easily. yes, it's that "three strokes" line lmao) and the fact that Kaeya has saved Klee from solitary confinement a lot. He is shown to be a very effective person when it comes to corralling Klee without making her feel bad as even when he was trying to berate her, he still ended up giving her a possible reward if she listens.

9. He is very meticulous. He willingly spends the time to get himself ready in the clothes that he is wearing, and he likes embellishments. He really is quite the perfectionist in his actions as well. (very Alberich of him!✌️) We can also see this in his handwriting that has been described as "beautiful" and again with his near perfect track record as a knight.

#kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeyachi back at it again with the kaeya talk because they cant be stopped

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our-happygirl500-fan · 2 months

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Leo's face man persona has allowed Leo to read between lines & twist words & situations in his favour which is often why Leo could possibly be considered a foil for Big Mama who also knows how to twist words & situations in her own favour.

Leo: My deal was no weapons for you, not me.

However Leo's ability to twist his words in order to push things in his or his family's favour might possibly be something that Leo originally learnt from Raph.

Leo has been shown to have a habit of copying traits from his siblings often imitating or showing similar or the same traits as April, Donnie & Raph which is why Leo learning to his words to get the result he wants might have been something that Leo learnt from Raph as it has been stated that Raph sometimes twists the truth or lies to his brothers to try to get them to be more responsible.

Donnie: How about when you tell us training stats an hour earlier because you know we’re always late, mm?

Leo: Or when you told Mikey that if he doesn't take out the trash the trash monster would eat him in his sleep.

In the episode 'Pizza Puffs' that Raph has been stated to twist the truth or tell small lies in order to try & get his brothers to be more responsible due to a belief that he often can't trust them to do 'simple stuff' however Leo has been shown to have the ability to see through his brothers whenever they try to hide something from him.

Leo: Hey buddy. Trouble sleeping?

Donnie: What’s with the interrogation, Leo?! Everything's fine I said!

Leo: Huh, it's like someone who wears a red bandana really hurt this guy's feelings once. Strange.

In both the episodes 'The Purple Jacket' & 'Sparring Partner' Leo seems to imply that he suspects or knows things that Donnie & Raph were trying to hide showing how well Leo knows his brothers as he can almost immediately tell if they want to hide anything. Leo's tendency to see through his brothers whenever they try to hide anything possibly means Raph's attempts at bending the truth probably did not ever fully work on Leo with Leo most likely aware that Raph wasn't being fully truthful with him in those moments.

Considering that Leo often picks up different traits from his family members it is possible that Leo saw Raph telling their brothers about trash monsters to get them to clean their room or saying training started earlier than it did to get them to show up on time & ended up with a conclusion of 'oh it's okay to twist the truth or lie to get people to do what you want & since Raph does it it's fine' which possibly led to Leo's face man persona & ability to talk his way out of things.

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles #leonardo hamato #raphael hamato #rottmnt #tmnt

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teaguen-thestrange · 2 months

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Natures Drug.

warnings/content: spencer reid x reader smut, spencer and reader smoke weed (and get high duh), praising, cock warming at the end, nipple play, i think that’s it but pls let me know if i missed anything!!

(also this idea was brought to you by my bbg @etherealhozier so thank her and go read some of her stuff!!!!)

“Spence! Come in, please!” You said enthusiastically as he waited at your door. He nodded his head as a thank you and stepped in. You and Spencer were best friends, to say the least as you too both had a strong love for each other.

“So… we’re um… we’re working on that case right?” Spencer asked shyly, setting his jacket down as well as his bag, and taking off his shoes to reveal his mismatched socks.

“Yep!” You said cheerfully. The surprise was killing you and you wanted to tell him as soon as you could.

“What’s up with you? Why are you so… giddy?” Spencer asked confused.

“I don’t know what you mean.” An obvious smirk plastered your face as you replied.

“Y/n. Spit it out. We’re both profilers, and you know I can tell when you lie.” He said.

You let out a sigh and decided to tell him.

“Okay so I’m obviously not gonna make you do it, BUT I thought it would be fun if we maybe smoked some weed…?” You asked cautiously, not wanting to scare him away.

His eyes grew wide at your question, and his whole body tensed.

“I’ve never… I mean… what…?” He looked at you with a mix of confusion, shock, and a hint of curiosity.

You giggled a little at his bundle of emotions being shown.

“Spencer, it’s okay. I’ve done this before and you’re safe with me. You also don’t even have to. It was just a suggestion.” You say smiling.

Spencer looked at you, confused but less confused, as he thought about it.

“Sure.” He said quickly.

You stared at him blank, taken back by his fast answer.

“Are… are you sure?” You asked once more, making sure you heard him right.

“Yes y/n. I’m sure. I trust you enough to know what you’re doing.” He said with a light chuckle.

You gave a quick smile and a quite “ok” as you grabbed the weed out of the bag, as well as the grinder and paper. It didn’t take you long to get everything situated, two joints had quickly appeared on the table in front of you and him.

“Here you go, one for the handsome gentleman.” You said giggling as you handed him one of the joints and lighting it up in his mouth as you stared into his eyes. You noticed a slight spark in his eye that sent shivers down your body as you serviced him with the heat of the lighter. You soon quick followed with yours as well, chuckling as Spencer let out a cough after the first drag.

“Take your time, pretty boy. It’s not going anywhere.” You said laughing as he smiled at you.

————————————

About an hour had passed, and you both and gotten your fair share of buzz from the fumes in the air. Remains of laughter and hash were sprinkled all over the room as the case you had agreed to work on was soon forgotten.

“You’re so pretty y/n. Have I told you that? I don’t think I’ve told you that.” Spencer blushed as he rambled, not taking his eyes off of you once. What he did next is what caught you off guard. As he sat next to you, he scooted closer to your body and whispered to you.

“Can I kiss you please? Look so pretty right now.”

You were completely taken aback by his words, so much so you couldn’t even speak. You nodded your head slowly at him as you climbed onto his lap before taking a hit of the joint, and began pressing your mouth into his. As his tongue explored your mouth, you let out a small cloud of smoke into him as he whimpered from the friction coming from your core, grinding onto his groin.

Realizing you hadn’t even spoken once yet, you opened your mouth to stop Spencer for a second.

“Spencer wait. We’re both… high right now and we um… we can’t go back once we do this.” You sigh, sounding out of breath as you look at him with lust in your eyes.

“Y/n. I… want nothing more than to do this with you right now. Just please, make me feel good.” Spencer whimpered as he let out a sigh, and the sound alone was enough to make you come undone in his lap.

You nodded quickly up and down, not being able to even think about turning down his request. The look he gave you sent shivers down your spine body, telling you both desperately needed that release. As you quickly placed your lips on his again, you moved your hips forward and back along his bulge, moaning into his mouth.

“Off. Right now. Off.” Spencer demanded, clawing at your shirt. His hands were cold on your ribs and chest as he ripped the fabric off effortlessly, leaving you bare in front of him.

“So fucking beautiful. Lemme taste em’. Please?” Before you could even say yes to his begging, his lips wrapped around your hard buds, swirling his tounge painfully slow around one as he moved to the other. After taking his sweet time, having you come completely undone with the sounds you made, you placed you hands on his belt and looked at him for approval.

“Can I Spence? Is this okay?” You asked breathlessly, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside you.

“Fuck… yes. Please.” He choked out a moan as his cock sprung free, leaving you salivating at the sight.

“Can I?” You asked as your hand ghosted over his tip, making him moan while bucking his hips into your grasp.

“Fuck y/n just do something!” He moaned, and you knew if you teased him any longer, he wouldn’t last. You slowly gave his cock a few tugs, making him choke out a bundle of gasps as your thumb swiped over his tip, smearing the precum around your hand. You hastily ripped your pants and panties off before sinking onto him with a groan coming from both of you.

“So warm. And tight. Fuck, y/n.” Spencer groaned as you slowly rode him out. Feeling your orgasm approaching vastly, you clenched around him making both of you whimper loudly.

“M’ gonna cum y/n…” Spencer whimpered out, as you moaned in response to feeling him throb inside you.

“Fuck Spencer. Cum inside me. Please!” You yelled as he slammed his hips up into you at an alarming pace, spilling his seed into you as you spasmed around him; riding out your orgasm.

You stayed there for a minute, trying to catch your breath all while comprehending what just happened as you looked into his eyes.

“That was…” Spencer breathed out.

“Amazing.” You chuckled out as you smiled at him.

He placed his lips on yours, and smiled against them.

“You’re amazing.” He replied, blushing at you.

“And you’re super corny!” You let out a laugh before kissing him again, letting your head fall onto his shoulder.

#spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #idk what else to tag

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seresinhangmanjake · 5 months

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The One I Want: Part 7

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: traumatic past, trust issues, cursing, very likely typos

Words: 3262

The One I Want Masterlist

Jake Seresin is a puzzle whose pieces, as you have come to see, are already slotted together. You learned tonight that a few of those pieces are worn from being picked at, but they don’t impede his ability to be complete. Jake is beautiful and smart with a well-built confidence and a certain quality that, with enough time, makes you want to open yourself up to him. Everything about him goes together. It all works. Those pieces make Jake the man he is, in all of his perfection. So being in his presence, you want to be who he wants you to be. You want to be just as put together. But you’re not sure you’re strong enough for that.

“You can trust me,” he says, your hands still clasped together. You glance down at those hands, wondering when exactly he wove his fingers with yours. “I’ll share first if that’ll make it any easier.”

Eyes flicking up, you take in the intensity of the pair staring back at you—the depth within them, the swelling pupils that are pushing the green into a thin ring and drawing you in. They’re too honest, and it hits you like a ton of bricks.

Has anyone else ever looked at you this way? You think the closest instance you can recall involves the man you’d naively fallen in love with who lived in the first town you’d moved to on your own. But his look was a hidden lie discovered far too late.

You suppose there was a fraction of Jake’s honesty in Millie’s eyes when she expressed her thoughts and told her story so openly. She would probably be willing to attempt understanding you if you offered it.

You know you’re reaching, though. Trying to grasp at something that isn’t all there to prove that the way Jake is looking at you now is nothing unique. That it’s not special. That he doesn’t make your heart pound or your stomach flutter or cause a tingle to creep up your spine.

But when you consider telling him the truth of your history, you already sense the shame you’ve been living with for years preparing to double in force. And how can you allow that? You don’t need anything else weighing you down. You can’t possibly handle more. Certainly not from him.

You tear your eyes away from his and aren’t shocked to find that that’s exactly what it feels like—a tear. A tearing that holds so much resistance you can practically hear the slow rip that severs the connection.

“It’s not that easy,” you whisper.

“It can be,” he says, fingers tightening around yours. “You know how much I want to know you.”

The closing of your throat doesn’t allow you to swallow. An invisible hand is wrapped around your neck, blocking your oxygen, fogging your vision with unwanted tears. Your lip quivers all on its own.

Jake reaches out, lightly pressing his thumb to that lip as if he could stop its trembling.

Then you shake your head and his thumb disappears.

Standing, you try to step away, but his hand, still tangled with yours, stops you. You think he’s doing it on purpose, refusing to let you leave until he gets what he wants, but when you look at his face, it’s blank. His eyes stare ahead, the corners of his mouth are turned downward, and he doesn’t seem to feel you prying open his fingers to free your hand.

His arm drops and slides into his lap, and you take that as a sign to retreat to your bedroom.

You’re not quite through the door when you hear, “I wish you felt like you could trust me.” His voice is as defeated as his facial expression had shown. Low, dark, raspy. “Whatever it is, it's not going to change how I see you.”

You want to believe him so badly. So much so that, without any effort, you could let it consume you. But you can’t bet on his words. So you close your door the rest of the way.

—

You’ve thought about him for a week straight, and each of those thoughts has scribbled their way into the notebook you’d sort of kind of—would deny it if anyone asked—stolen from the shop.

But your little notes on Jake you don’t allow to blend with the chaotic notes of your past. He gets his own pages with words written in neater script. There’s not a single smudge of ink from your hand rubbing the paper in a rush to get your memories down before you forget some of their details. Not a single splotch of liquid black from a pen pressed too harshly onto the paper. No holes from that pen tracing the same words over and over in a fit of dampened anger. Like Jake, your notes on him are neat, and beautiful, and perfect in appearance.

What they contain, however, is something different: bunches of sentences warring with one another as you try to decide what you’re going to do next. You live with him. You see him every day. You’ll have to interact, which means you’ll have to get over this hump. The only problem is that it may not be a hump Jake wants to get over.

In the months you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him the way he was that night last week. So much was crammed into a couple of hours and it provided you with a fresh image of him—not an image that changed, exactly, but simply an image that developed a new layer. And you liked having that layer of his visible, until it became clear that the spotlight was turning to you so you may develop another layer as well.

Stepping out of that light meant plenty to you—you knew the message you were sending, even though you felt resistance from every part of you screaming to stay put—but it did more to Jake than you imagined, and that realization came in the form of Jake not speaking to over the past weeks worth of mornings, not smiling, not waiting for you so you could share breakfast. He’s gone before your alarm goes off.

It only took you ten hours to notice the void that formed in your chest from missing him around you. After ten hours—most of which you spent trying to sleep—you felt awful in more ways than one. Not only were you exhausted and absorbing your dislike of his absence that first morning, but Jake, despite his hurt state, continues to take care of you.

Those breakfasts he doesn’t wait around to share with you are still available, already made up on a plate with saran wrap keeping them safe in the fridge. The post-its he sticks to the coffee pot to inform you of said breakfasts never fail to have a small smiley face drawn in the corner. And to be fair, he does speak to you a little, but unless it seems to be a matter of life or death, which you haven’t been able to manage, his answers are clipped. Even then, it could be that those short answers are the best he can do for himself rather than anything he is doing for your benefit. With how much Jake talks in general, and with how lively you are used to seeing him, maybe he can’t be one-hundred percent silent no matter how much he wants to.

Regardless of what it really is, the tension has grown thicker by the day.

These days are not ones you want to morph into routine. You can’t watch them settle and solidify when you crave him and what he adds to your new life to this degree. Which means you have to figure yourself out. Not all of you—that will take some time—but enough of you that you can approach Jake and take the chance to be honest with him. His offer to exchange stories shows that it is not just you who needs it, but Jake as well.

That is what has prompted you to bring your notebook to work over the last seven days. And the more time you spend writing your notes, the more you release from your damaged soul, and the more good things about Jake start piling up. His faults are underwhelming and overshadowed, and all it confirms is that you want him back. So you decide that when he picks you up from work, something you never expected him to continue doing considering your current relationship, you’re going to break the silence by asking for another chance.

—

When Rooster’s truck pulls up to the store, Millie is leaning halfway out the passenger side window, one hand waving your way, the other arm bracing her precarious position. A moment later, her elbow slips on the sill and she lurches forward with a sharp yelp. Looking past her, you can see Rooster reach over the center console and wrap his arm around her waist to pull her back to safety.

“Babe, please,” he groans. “You’re stressing me out.”

She glances at him over her shoulder. “Oh, you hush. I’ve never fallen.”

“Yet,” he emphasizes. “I’d like it if my girlfriend stayed alive. I've got plans that involve you.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Darlin’. You know my hips will save me from making it all the way out the window.”

Rooster only rolls his eyes in response before unwrapping his arm and giving her ass a light smack.

Millie looks back at you, her grin wide and displaying a row of straight, white teeth. “Hey, honey. Workin’ hard or hardly workin’?”

“You can only work so hard here,” you say with a weak chuckle. “Where’s Jake? Is he okay?”

You want that answer as much as you don’t. You pray he’s fine and safe, but then it means the tension that hasn’t dwindled the slightest has finally become too much for him. Though you’d rather he avoid you than be injured or ill, it hurts no less. Right as you devise a plan to bring the two of you back together, he pulls further away.

“Oh, he’s um…” Millie bites her lip.

“Staying on base tonight,” Rooster says, leaning back to meet your eyes over Millie’s shoulder. “He went in to get some extra work done and thought it would be easier.”

If the lie weren’t so terribly obvious, Rooster’s face would’ve betrayed him. The man is not a master of deception. He can’t pull it off. You suppose that bodes well for Millie, if he would ever dare tell her an untruth. Not that you can imagine a situation where he would.

Millie’s nerves wipe from her face at her boyfriend’s explanation, and you almost snort from how cute they are. They operate as their own little team, supporting and backing their partner up to keep the other from falling. Whether they succeed in their mission, like trying to convince you Jake is busy, is another thing.

Your little red-headed friend transforms back into her giddy self. “Right, so he asked us to come get ya,” she says with a wink.

Now that, you do believe. Jake may not want to see you, but he wouldn’t leave you stranded. And as disappointing as it is to see Rooster’s truck instead of the one you perfer, you know it’s not enough to convince you to give up on your end goal. With your plan thwarted, you only gain more time to figure out exactly how you’re going to bring up what you want to tell Jake.

—

You’ve decided Sundays are the best days. Sundays are easy days. They are days set aside for relaxing, where you can spend twenty-four hours in your home with only a robe wrapped around your body and not be judged. Many stores are closed on Sundays, the gift shop included, and most people don’t work, Jake included. And Jake Seresin, though not the type to sit around, does allow himself the mornings of Sundays to be what he would normally consider lazy.

When you first moved in, you didn’t love this habit of his. Knowing no one but him and knowing no place but the apartment meant you didn’t do anything or see anyone else. He had you locked in with him for at least three hours before he met his team at the gym, and he took those three hours very seriously. Most of their minutes he dedicated to being around ta you,lking to you, asking you questions—anything you did, he was there to do it with you. And while it once bugged you a bit, it eventually grew on you. He grew on you. You stopped caring about how he spent his Sunday mornings because your routine and his melded into a comfortable place, and you've had no intentions of disrupting that—until now.

After forgoing sleep to spend the entire night thinking about Jake, you’re sure you look like hell when you step out of your room and into the living room where he sits. You didn’t think to check yourself in the mirror, and Jake doesn’t acknowledge you in favor of reading his book to confirm or deny your likely-ragged state.

You don’t care how you look, though.

You care about pushing yourself forward.

“Jake?”

His hum is dismissive, but you don’t hold it against him. You understand his feelings too well, and you accept them. When he was so vulnerable and raw—when he told you something he’d not told even his closest friends—you denied him the same courtesy, and that decision hurt him. He aches. You still see it on his face and in his movements. The way his fingers gripped the book and his shoulders tensed the moment you entered the room. How he pulled his bottom lip inward and trapped it between his teeth and has yet to let it go.

He’s trying to hide the discomfort your presence causes, and he is doing so well that, as someone with plenty of experience, you’re almost proud. But the act unravels completely when you say, “I trust you.”

His head slowly rises. Then, closing the book and setting it aside, Jake stands from his spot on the couch, brow pinched as if he had not heard you correctly. “What did you say?”

“I trust you,” you repeat.

One hand settles on his hip as the other goes through his hair. He squeezes his eyes shut in a two-second long blink as if trying to snap himself awake. Lips part, perhaps to say something, anything, but then they seal again.

Before you lose your nerve, you inhale, exhale, and with a single nod, mutter to yourself a final, “I trust him.”

Then you spew out everything you’ve kept inside—everything you’ve kept away from him.

“My parents left me,” you say aloud for the very first time. You try to hold them back, but tears accompany that statement, gathering in the corners of your eyes. “Dad first, when I was nine. Mom when I was fourteen. They left and I don’t know where they are, and I don’t really care, but they disappeared and it…it messed me up. It left me lost, and I learned to let people hurt me because no one showed me anything else. I let people treat me however they want, which most often means attacking the insecure parts of me. I let them call me names and look at me in ways that strip me of my dignity, and I can’t stop it. I don’t stop them.

“When I can’t take it anymore, I leave wherever I am,” you say before pausing to catch your breath.

Jake doesn’t take the opportunity to speak. He stands there, staring, listening, waiting for you to offer him more.

“You weren’t that far off at the diner when you said I was trying to live in every beach town for two months before moving on to the next. They haven’t all been beach towns, but there have been many of them and I never stay for long,” you admit. “The minute I have the means, I go. I graduated high school by myself and left my hometown, fell in love with an asshole in the second town and left, got a job at a bar whose drunks found me an easy target, so I left again, and it’s been the same everywhere I’ve landed, again and again and again. People break me down so I find someplace new. You are—” You cut yourself off to reconsider your words, “This is my eleventh new place.” One of those tears breaks free to slide down your cheek. “And I don’t know how long I’m going to last here, but I already hate the thought of leaving.”

Done with your speech, you release a heavy breath.

When Jake looks away from you, it’s a bucket of ice water dumped over your head. Your heart crushes with the realization that you were right. Jake was wrong. Seeing you differently is not as difficult as you had hoped and he had promised. In fact, he doesn’t see you at all anymore because he won’t even give you a glance. You presented the reality that you are unloved and unwanted and explained exactly why that is, and now he has in his hand all of the reasons why others mistreat you, the ability to evaluate those reasons, and decide for himself if those reasons are valid.

And in that moment, you know you are fucked. You’re about to be lost again. On your own, in the dark, with nothing to hold on to. Not that you didn’t anticipate this coming along eventually, but you would have liked to stick around a little longer.

Through the blur of tears, you see Jake nod. That’s all. No words, no shift in facial expression; he nods to the floor rather than give you the respect of nodding to your face. He nods again, and then he looks up to meet your gaze.

Jake’s hands fall from his hips, and in four strides he closes the space keeping you apart, cups your jaw in the heat of his palms, and plants his lips on yours.

His kiss lands somewhere between hard and soft, between eager and restrained, between needy and downright desperate. And after adjusting to the shock he plunged you into, your mouth begins to move against his.

Jake is warm, and cozy; he tastes like the one Splenda packet he puts in the oatmeal he occasionally has for breakfast, and it all makes your brain hum in a comfortable delight. You take from him all that he takes from you, and give to him all that he gives you, and in the process, accept that you truly want this and he wants this and that’s all that matters. You’re not working harder to please him than he is working to please you. You’re not thinking about what he will think when your lips separate. You’re not afraid of being a disappointment because were that the case, surely he would have released you by now. But he hasn’t released you. He holds on and pulls closer and doesn’t let go, not even when the kiss breaks.

Thumbs stroke your cheeks as your eyes slowly drag from his swollen lips to his nose to that mossy-green shade you’ve become attached to. There’s a hint of concern in his stare. But then you smile, so he smiles, and the concern fades.

“Your turn,” you whisper.

---

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maybaenk · 2 years

Text

Aftermath

Summary: In which JJ is the only one who can ease the pain.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Warnings: SA, mentions of SA, mentions of ED, cursing

NA: this story is about the reader dealing with the aftermath of a SA so be careful before reading. Also if you’ve been through this, please speak up to your loved ones. My dm’s are always open if anyone needs to talk.

This is very personal to me, it hits home, so please do not judge. Just scroll.

————

JJ Maybank had never been one to be silent.

He would constantly be telling stories, cracking jokes and teasing people. His voice would often be loud and he would sweet talk his way into just about anything, his way of speaking just captivating. He was the kind of person to lighten up an entire room as soon as he’d walk in, everything about him enthralling.

That’s why, upon noticing him grow quiet one Friday afternoon at The Wreck, the pogues immediately knew something was off with him. They silently decided to let him be, although they quickly grew worried over what was happening to him. They brushed it off as him being mad at something his shitty father had done, that usually being the reason of his bad mood.

However, Kie had noticed the way his eyes would linger on you. You were sitting, quietly, in front of JJ. She observed from her spot next to him as his eyes would frequently flicker to your frame. You were playing around with your food, not really hungry it seemed, as your mind wandered to what seemed to be a world of your own.

She sighed, eyes softening upon seeing her best friend look so off. You’d been distancing yourself from them for the past days, and she remembered how JJ had told them he thought it was weird you’d suddenly grown sick the day after the kegger that took place five days ago. That’s what you’d told them, you’d been sick and would stay in bed until you’d be better. JJ had told them he was worried when the fifth day had passed and you still hadn’t reached out but didn’t want to invade your personal space.

This was the first day you’d shown up since then.

Kie asked herself how she couldn’t have understood immediately JJ was acting this weird because of you.

She sighed, returning to her conversation with the boys and thinking of ways of approaching you later to ask what was wrong.

JJ’s eyes, however, never strayed from you. He watched you pick at your food with your fork and he furrowed his eyebrows; you loved fries.

“Hey.” He softly spoke up.

You didn’t answer, didn’t even seem to have heard him. His leg nudged yours under the table.

Your eyes snapped to his, for the first time today, and he was taken aback by the void dullness in them.

“You okay, baby?”

If this had been any other time, you would have blushed at the nickname he’d often use for you. He was your best friend in the whole world, your golden boy, and yet you couldn’t deny your feelings for him. Sometimes you’d wonder if he felt the same.

But this wasn’t any other time. Something had happened to you, and you couldn’t let him find out. So you put on the best fake smile you could before answering.

“Yeah, sorry. Just tired.” You replied, eyes averting from his own in hope he wouldn’t see right through your lie. He always seemed to.

JJ saw the way your smile didn’t reach your eyes. His frown deepened when he saw the sad look you were trying to hide behind them and he shook it off. You were already starting to zone out again.

“You not hungry?” He inquired, choosing not to say anything about your evident lie.

You shook your head lazily, placing your chin on your hand as you returned your eyes to him, then to your plate.

“You never say no to fries.” He spoke, and before you could think of another lie as to why you weren’t hungry, he did again, “C’mon, bub, you have to eat some.”

Your heart swelled at his sweet tone, but you couldn’t bring yourself to smile. Nor to answer.

You looked at him when you heard him move and saw him pick up a single fry, holding it up for you to bite. He gave you the best puppy eyes he could, and your heart quickened at the look he was giving you, and you would do anything to make him happy.

“Just one.” He pleaded, smiling at you, “For me?”

You sighed, finally cracking a smile at how cute JJ Maybank was. You could never say no to him. His grin widened when he saw you smile for the first time today and he brought the fry closer to your mouth.

“Fine.”

You bit it, gently taking it from his hand. You chewed slowly, really, really not in the mood for eating.

“There you go.” He praised you once you were finished, “One more?”

————

Your friends took off to the Chateau, of course asking you if you’d be crashing there. They’d tried convincing you with the promise of a bonfire and a lot of beer.

Any other day, that would’ve done it. But this wasn’t any other day, so you’d gently reclined, telling them you were still feeling a little off. They’d eventually given up, telling you if you had changed your mind, that’s where you’d find them.

JJ had offered to walk you home, but you’d told him your mom was on your way to pick you up. A total lie, but he didn’t need to know. Of course, being the gentleman he was, he’d told you he’d wait for you but you’d insisted on him going with the others so he wouldn’t have had to lose his ride to the Chateau. He’d reluctantly agreed before taking off, too.

You’d walked the whole walk home in silence, trying to find peace within it.

The water now cascading on your skin did nothing to help you with the uneasy discomfort you felt in your whole body. This was the third shower of the day, and it was doing little to nothing to help you soothe that feeling. You scrubbed at your skin, too hard. You scrubbed every inch of your body, washing it again and again. Your skin became red when you scrubbed too hard in the places he’d touched the most.

You tried shaking the thought out of your mind.

Stop thinking about it.

You shuddered, a memory of the feeling of his hands grabbing your legs suddenly flashing through your mind.

It wasn’t long before you were sitting on the shower floor, knees brought to your chest with your arms around them.

You sobbed quietly, shaking, the hot water falling on you and burning your skin. You wanted to forget the feeling, you wanted to forget it all. The steamy water was nothing compared to it.

————

You’d ditched them again that night. This time you’d told them your mom needed your help with something.

You sure everything’s okay? JJ had texted you.

Please, God, don’t let him find out.

You hadn’t replied.

You were in your bed, knees to your chest as you laid on your side in one of JJ’s t-shirts he’d leave over when he’d sleep here.

You’d hoped JJ’s scent and the feeling of being in his shirt — it always comforted you, would make you forget about what had happened. About him.

You found yourself wishing to be with him right now, craving his touch.

You soon realized you needed to be in his arms, you needed nothing more than his comfort right now. The only comfort you could have.

You needed him now more than ever.

You grabbed your phone.

I need you

You hoped he would see the message, not feeling like calling him. You knew he’d leave his phone laying around the Chateau when crashing there.

You didn’t know JJ had kept his phone with him the whole time, hoping you’d answer his text or to have some news.

He answered just a minute later.

Are you home?

Yes

Leaving now

Twenty minutes later his last text you heard a knock on your window. He chose not to ring on your doorbell, assuming your mom would be home since you’d told them she’d needed your help, not knowing if you wanted her to know he’d be over.

A little startled, you looked up to see JJ standing there. You sighed in relief before getting up to open the window for him.

“You could’ve come in by the door.”

“Thought your mom was home. Didn’t know if you wanted her to know I was here.” He explained, climbing over the window edge.

You felt panic rise in your stomach, before you had to tell yourself he wouldn’t think much of it.

“She left a while ago.” You quietly told him, deciding to leave the window open, the summer breeze light on your skin, “And you know she doesn’t mind.”

JJ wanted to tell you about how he thought you didn’t want her to know because maybe, just maybe, you didn’t want her to know something was wrong with you. You didn’t usually go and talk to your mother about your problems, not wanting to burden the poor woman, already too much on her hands. JJ knew that.

But he decided to change the topic because you yet had to admit to him something was wrong. He was hoping you’d tell him tonight, given the fact you’d told him you needed him.

He got closer to you.

“What did you need me for, Y/N/N?” He gently asked you, his voice so sweet you thought this boy would be the death of you.

You shrugged, eyes tired. You grabbed his hand and pulled him to your bed.

“Just needed you here with me.” His eyes softened.

He couldn’t even be disappointed at you for not telling him the truth, you looked so tired and sad it was starting to pain him.

“Okay, baby.” He whispered, hand coming up to place a strand of hair behind your ear, then resting on your cheek, “Just let me change and then we can cuddle and watch a movie or something, yeah? How’s that sound?”

You smiled feebly, feeling the urge to burst out crying. You pushed your emotions back, nodding at him.

“Yeah? Okay, I’ll be a minute.”

JJ was quick to grab one of his sweat shorts from your closet, changing into that and removing his t-shirt. He placed it on your dresser before taking off his shoes and plopping down on the bed with you.

He adjusted himself on the pillows before tugging you to him. You laid down on your side, resting your head on his chest and your arm around his torso. His arms was around you as he pulled you closer.

“That’s better. Now, what do we wanna watch?” He asked, picking up the remote control on your nightstand.

You let him pick the movie, loving to hear him rent about the new sequel of an action movie he was dying to see once it came out. He settled for the first movie, telling you you just had to see it so you could watch the second one with him.

You smiled into his chest, comfortably nestling into his arms. You didn’t really care about movies right now, just his presence, but you loved listening to what he was saying. You always did.

You were the only one out of his friends who actually enjoyed listening to his bullshit. It made his heart warm.

The movie started playing, and it was a few minutes in that you spoke up.

“Thank you, J.” Your voice was low.

“For what?”

“For being here with me. I’m sorry if I forced you here, I know you’d have more fun at the bonfire.”

You felt him pulling you impossibly closer.

“Don’t say that, you know I’d rather be with you.” He replied, making butterflies flutter in your stomach.

You sighed, nuzzling further into him.

He was easing the pain.

You thought the conversation was over when you heard his voice again.

“I know something’s wrong. It’ okay, you don’t have to tell me right now. I’ll be waiting.” He whispered.

You didn’t know how you managed to keep the tears at bay this time. You held on to him tighter as you silently wished for it all to stop.

————

It had been a week and a half since that day. The Outer Banks’ summer breeze swept through your hair and gently caressed your skin as you sat on the HMS Pogue, silently looking out at the water.

This was the first time your friends had managed to convince you in coming with them on one of your ritual days on the Pogue. You relished in the feeling of comfort being here with them brought you, momentarily stranding your mind away from what tormented it. JJ had been by your side all this time, giving you your space but nonetheless providing you the comfort of his touch and presence whenever you needed him. He’d been so careful with you your love for the boy had become unbearable.

You flinched when you felt a hand on your thigh, quickly calming down when you turned your head to see JJ. He looked concerned at your sudden movement.

“Sorry.” You quietly said, your hand reaching down to touch his fingers on your skin.

A frown was on his face, but he didn’t let it sit there for long before he changed the subject.

“You wanna swim?” He asked, carefully.

You let your eyes roam around the boat, shamefully noticing it had been stopped at your usual spot and everyone had long dipped in. Your thoughts had distracted you from reality.

“Oh.” You let out, masking the surprised tone in your low voice, “I don’t really feel like it today. But you go ahead.”

JJ’s eyes stayed on you, eyes scanning your face. He gave you a small pout.

“Come on, a little dip.” He gave you that pleading look that always made you give in, “It’s really hot today, you’re gonna burn yourself.”

You sighed, already knowing putting up a fight wouldn’t be no use. With a little nod, you sighed softly before following him in standing up when he took your hand.

“Can’t have my princess all burned now, can I?” He grinned, happy you’d agreed.

He let your hand go when you needed to remove your clothes. You slipped out your shorts before removing your t-shirt.

JJ’s frown returned when he took in all the weight you’d lost. He took you in carefully, his eyes noting the way your ribs were starting to lightly show and the way your thighs did no longer touch each other.

“I’m ready.” You told him, averting your eyes from his scrutinizing gaze.

“Y/N…” He started, voice unsure.

He was worried now.

“Let’s go.” You interrupted him and pulled him away by his hand.

The water was cold against your skin, the refreshing sensation making you almost hum tu yourself.

With a little push from JJ, you timidly joined the others who were currently floating and joking around. Sarah and Kie were splashing each other when you swam towards them.

John B immediately lightened up at your presence, smiling softly at you.

You couldn’t help but feel disappointed when you felt your mind slowly begin to drift away as soon as they brought up a topic you didn’t really care about. Normally, you would have. You cared about everything your friends said.

The cold water was starting to make you shiver. You were starting to feel lightheaded, the contrast between the hot sun burning on your already hot skin and the water that minutes ago had seemed so refreshing was now starting to bother you. Your head felt hot and throbbing. You sighed as you started to feel dizziness fog up your mind.

“You okay, Y/N/N?” Kie’s voice brought you out of your daze and you looked up to see them all staring at you, worried looks painted on their faces.

“Yeah, you’re looking a bit pale right now.” Pope stated, eyebrows furrowed and a concerned expression on him.

JJ was immediately by your side, hands coming up to grab your hips and hold you against him.

In the suddenly confused state you were in, you remembered feeling relief just by his touch.

“Hey, hey, what’s happening, baby?” JJ rushed as your body slumped against his.

Black dots started to blurry your vision, and you shuddered against your best friend.

“I’m not-“ you started, “I think I’m going to faint.”

“Fuck, JB help me out here, man.” He frantically began, voice panicked as John B immediately swam to you.

They helped you back on the boat and you didn’t remember anything but the hot sun beating down on your skin, your head felt burning and your heart racing.

“Shit, don’t faint on me, baby. Come on.” All you heard in your semi-unconscious state was his voice.

They made you lay down on a towel messily laid on the floor where there was a bit of shade. Kiara grabbed the cooler and got you water as fast as she could, throwing the bottle to JJ.

“Lift her head up, JB.” He instructed briefly before helping you drink it.

You couldn’t really understand what was going on. Everything felt hazy, you tried waking up but you could feel sleep luring you into unconsciousness.

When you woke up a few moments later, a cold bottle of water was placed on your neck and JJ’s eyes were the first thing you saw.

“There she is.” His shuttered voice breathed out in relief.

You could hear the pogues muttering grateful words.

The concerned look in them, the desperation, almost made you cry and you wanted to apologize for making them worry but you couldn’t. You still felt a little dizzy.

“Come on, baby, let’s get you up so you can drink some more.” He placed a hand behind your back to help you up, then placed himself behind you so you could rest against his chest and between his legs.

“Feel any better, Y/N/N?” John B hopefully asked.

“A little.” Your voice felt hoarse, your head still a little dizzy.

You could fill the unspoken questions lingering in the air, the hesitant looks. They were debating whether or not to finally speak up, to finally demand to know what the hell had been going on, why you were suddenly so skinny and why you were acting so distant. You hoped they wouldn’t ask.

And they didn’t. Maybe they thought it was a conversation JJ should have had with you.

As the boat moved to shore, you became painfully aware of the swinging of the boat. You thought you’d be throwing up had you had food in your system. You were kind of grateful for that.

The rest of the ride home you didn’t remember very much. You still felt fuzzy, your mind fogged. You could hear the pogues worrying around you and offering water to you but the only thing that mattered was JJ’s touch on you. You were pressed up against his chest, safe in the protective embrace of his strong arms.

JJ carried you inside the Chateau as soon as the boat stopped at the dock, not even waiting to help. He placed you softly on his bed, the one in the guest room that was now practically his. You whined playfully at the loss of contact, reaching your arms out for him. He didn’t seem as amused.

“When is the last time you’ve eaten anything?” His blue gaze suddenly felt cold on you, he sounded angry.

You looked away, eyes immediately filling with tears. It wasn’t often that he was mad at you, and you hated it.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was low, trembling.

When you’d gathered the courage, your eyes found him again. His expression had softened, realizing he’d been approaching this the wrong way.

He sighed, hands coming up to cover his face.

“I’m gonna make you a sandwich or something, and you’re gonna eat it for me, okay?”

You relished in the familiar sound of his sweet tone, you couldn’t take him being mad at you.

Without even thinking, you nodded.

He disappeared, leaving you alone. Maybe it was time to open up. Maybe you had been hurting him and the rest of your friends for too long now. He deserved to know.

When he came back, you let him help you eat the sandwich. He sat beside you and encouraged every single bite, his voice honey as he helped you. You didn’t want to, you weren’t hungry; the bread felt disgusting in your mouth and you hadn’t eaten in so long you couldn’t even get past half of it.

But you did, because he was looking at you with this pleading look in his eyes and JJ Maybank was your weakness.

“There we go. All finished.” He happily praised you, a lingering kiss on your forehead.

You gave him a small smile, the best one you could master.

“I need to shower.” You told him.

You surprised yourself by not wanting to be left alone, by wishing he could come with you. Would it freak him out if you asked him to come with you?

“That’s fine.” He whispered.

When you got up to leave, he spoke again.

“I wish you’d tell me what’s going on with you.” His voice was strained, and when you turned back to look at him again where he was sitting on his bed, his head was in his hands.

You felt your heart shutter, pain immediately blossoming in your chest at the sight of the boy you loved pleading, begging you to just tell him why you had let yourself fall apart. To let him in. To let him help you.

It really was time to tell him.

You sighed, walking back to the bed.

When you sat down your hands began trembling. You didn’t look at him, you looked forward into nothingness. You could feel his gaze on you now.

How did one approach this? How did one get this kind of thing out? You spent what felt like minutes trying to get the courage to speak up, to say something.

And JJ waited. He sat silently, waiting for you to be ready.

It was only when his hesitant fingers touched your hand that you found the courage hand that you spoke up.

“It was that kegger.” You started, voice feeble, “It was like — like, two weeks ago.”

“What about the kegger?” You could hear the confusion in his voice.

“I don’t know if you remember that touron that flirted with me all night, the one I left with.”

A pause.

JJ was starting to get it, a terrible feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.

“What did he do?” His voice was stoic, hard. You felt your hands tremble.

It wasn’t unusual for you or him or any other of the pogues to leave with someone, to hook up with someone met at a party. You’d always told him you’d never went further than making out. Just once had you went third base with a guy, someone you’d been seeing for a few months at the time. (Of course, being in love with him, you’d always hoped JJ would be your first time, and so you’d been waiting for him. Even if you knew he certainly wasn’t a virgin himself.)

So It wasn’t anything new for you to maybe leave with someone, but what had him dreading your next words was that he’d already started connecting the dots. You’d been miserable for weeks and it had something to do with this guy. JJ didn’t think of himself as smart, but he also didn’t think it would take a genius to figure it out.

“He—“ how could you go on? How could you shutter his heart? “JJ I can’t…”

You felt your eyes beginning to sting, the burning anticipation of tears. You exhaled deeply, trying to look at him. You weren’t strong enough.

His hands found your face, gently forcing you to look at him. His eyes were begging you, an angry and desperate storm simmering behind the blue ocean.

You let go then, completely crumbling beneath his touch, his hold. A broken sob left your lips as the tears cascaded in an endless flow on your cheeks.

JJ shut his eyes, looking like he was straining himself, like it physically pained him to see you like this. He took a deep breath, his gaze found yours once again and this time his eyes were watering.

“Did—“ he stuttered, his voice completely broken, “Did he touch you?”

You knew he meant raped, but he didn’t want to trigger you even more. You knew he knew now the boy had taken you against your will, had taken the very thing you’d saved for someone special in a brutal, scarring way you would never forget. You knew he’d ruined you forever.

You found the will to nod softly.

His hands suddenly left your face, the absence of his touch leaving you feeling cold and alone. You sobbed, again, as you watched him storm out of the room. You tried following him, calming him down, but how could you when you didn’t have enough strength for yourself?

You placed your hands on your ears when the yelling and shuttering of glass reached you. Despite this, you could still hear the rumbling of objects being thrown and the voices of the pogues now intervening. You could vaguely make out Kie’s voice trying to calm him down and John B screaming at him to tell him what happened.

You don’t know how you found yourself curled up in the corner of the room, knees to your chest and hands still covering your ears. Your eyes were shut as your chest heaved uncontrollably as you fought the panic attack you felt coming.

Then, silence.

A shattered sob. Someone crying.

JJ.

You didn’t know how much time had passed before you felt the touch of someone on your hands, prying them away.

“Hey, hey, it’s me.”

Kie crouched down before you, her eyes glossy and lips trembling as she reached her arms out to you.

She knew. Everyone knew now.

“I’m sorry.” She cried and you found yourself engulfed in her embrace, her arms around your body and your head buried in her neck.

You couldn’t breathe, you felt the anxiety and the panic swallowing you as you fought to stop the sobbing.

“JJ.” You hoarsely let out between broken cries.

“Okay, okay, babe, calm down.” She whispered to you, standing back to hold your face in her hands, “Try to breathe for me, he’ll be here in a minute, okay?”

She turned around quickly, and only then did you notice Sarah standing in doorway. Her hand was on her mouth as she silently cried, too shocked to do anything.

“Sarah, please get JJ here.” She pleaded, her voice as serious as ever.

The blonde was gone in mere seconds, disappearing in the hallway to supposedly retrieve her friend.

You needed him, and hoped he’d find the strength to be there for you. You hoped he’d be there to hold you.

“Breathe for me, okay?” Kiara’s eyes found yours and you felt your heart warm at the worry you saw in them.

Your friends cared for you so much, and yet here you were making them cry.

You nodded, just for her sake but really couldn’t.

“I love you.” You sobbed out and reached your hands out to hold her hands, still trying to breathe.

She inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to show you how to do it. Tears flowed down her cheeks at your sweet words, and Kiara had never felt so guilty in her whole seventeen years. How could she have been so blind? It was so clear something had been wrong with you, yet she’d never pushed it as not to overstep any boundaries you had put between yourself and the pogues lately. She just though you needed your time.

“I love you too, Y/N/N.” She sniffed, her hands finding their way around your shoulders again in a desperate attempt to hold you to her, to protect you. It was too late, she’d been a shitty friend, she felt it was her fault.

“Kiara.” Sarah’s worried voice sounded from behind her.

Kiara backed away to look at her blonde friend, her eyebrows furrowed at the concerned tone in her voice. Something was wrong.

“JJ’s gone.”

You don’t know how you recovered from the sinking feeling in your chest and the panic attack that sentence triggered, you don’t remember how long it took them to calm you down, how long they’d tried helping you breathe for. At one point, Sarah had been so scared she’d proposed calling an ambulance. But then you’d grown so tired, slumping against Kie’s chest as she softly ran a hand down your back, silently thanking God. You just remembered them laying you down on the bed, each of them on either side of you as they held you close in their familiar, comforting embrace. The last thing you remembered was the thought of JJ in your mind.

JJ.

Even in your sleep you could swear it was his scent that was engulfing you. You could vaguely sense his strong arms around you as you stirred awake.

You opened your eyes, and you could feel how swollen they were. They were probably red, too.

And there he was. You’d been right.

You don’t know when, but he’d moved you so you were laying on him. His arms were around you as he rested against the headboard, your face buried in his neck.

You moved your face away, slightly, just so you could look at his face.

You felt your breath hitch when you found him staring right back at you. An intensity in his eyes you’d never seen.

“JJ.” Your voice was hoarse, broken.

His eyes immediately softened. You could see the dark bags under them and your heart shuttered.

“I’m here.” His voice was soft, broken.

You sighed, falling back into his embrace.

You had a terrible feeling about his disappearance, a fear in the back of your mind about where you were almost sure he could have gone during the time he was gone. What he could have done.

You knew he remembered who the touron was, and knew for a fact he’d still be on the island for a whole month. The two things combined didn’t make for a good ending.

You didn’t want to ask, though, just wanting to be with JJ. You didn’t want to think about him, about what JJ could have done to him. The only thing that worried you was the consequences, but you knew your boy was smart, so you pushed the thoughts away for now and just enjoyed the way his presence subsided your pain.

“Don’t leave me again.” You whispered.

He inhaled, like it pained him to hear you say that.

“I won’t.”

You knew he wanted to say more, he was just trying to figure out the best way to do it. He’d never been one to talk, never good at expressing his feelings. You didn’t mind.

“Does it hurt?” He cut the silence, deciding on voicing his worries regarding the physical part first.

You frowned, tightening your grip on his shirt.

“Not anymore.” You let out.

You could hear his rage in the silence.

“What time is it?” You tried diverting his anger, suddenly wondering how long it had been.

“Four.” His hand found his way to your head, his fingers starting to play with your hair. He knew it calmed you.

You loved him so much, it hurt you. How you wished it was him instead. You’d always thought that maybe, somehow, he would be. That’s why you’d been waiting, saving your special moment for the person you loved most in the world.

Your mind started to wander. You imagined how it could’ve been, how sweet JJ would be with you. You imagined his lips on yours and his strong arms around you and his scent clouding your senses. You imagined his sweet words when it would hurt, and then your mind betrayed you and instead carried you to your pained cries and his threatens to stay still.

You opened your eyes, trying to forget about it.

In a daze, you let the words out.

“You know, I’d always hoped it’d be you.”

You felt surprised hearing yourself voicing your feelings for him after all this years.

You didn’t regret it, it was how you felt. And it was time he knew. You were kind of grateful of the numbness that brought you to confess yourself to him, or else he’d probably never known.

You felt his breath hitch, the movements of his hand stopped.

It took him some moments to speak up.

“What do you mean?” He tried, hesitant.

There was no use in trying to take it back, you wanted him to know.

“I’d always hoped you’d be my first time.” You admitted, being completely honest now, “For so long, I’ve rejected everyone because I was waiting for you.”

You didn’t want him to say he felt the same about you, that he loved you. You didn’t care if he reciprocated your feelings because you were just so glad you’d finally told him the truth that either way you’d be happy. You’d love him nonetheless.

Silence.

Obviously, though, all of your heart hoped he would.

You didn’t expect what happened next.

You didn’t expect the broken sob that left his mouth, you didn’t expect him to pull his hands away from you to cover his eyes with their back.

You knew your heart was already completely broken, so why did it feel like this was the most painful thing you’d ever gone through and that it was shuttering for real this time? You felt devastated at the thought of being the cause of this. What had you done?

You sat back, looking at him and you felt tears running down your cheeks before you knew it.

“JJ, I’m sorry.” You hurried, “You don’t have to say anything back. I swear, I don’t care if you don’t feel the same.”

He cried, his knees coming up to his chest and his hands staying on his face, shielding its view from you.

It took him so long for him to speak up, you’d already concluded he was feeling guilty about not feeling the same. You waited, tears cascading down your skin as you watched the boy you loved break down in front of you.

You didn’t know how long it passed when his voice cut the silence.

“Maybe-” he started, but had to breathe a few times in order to go on, “Maybe if you’d known — if I had told you I love you and I’d do anything for you, you would have never met that fucking sick-”

He stopped, now sobering up and realizing the mention of that guy could have triggered bad memories for you.

You stayed silent, refusing to believe this.

JJ actually felt the same about you?

You felt something, something for the first time in almost a month. You felt happiness swirl inside of you and you had to breathe out in relief at the feeling of something other than pain.

JJ removed his hands from his face.

“This is my fault.” His eyes were completely broken.

You could see behind them the guilt that would forever torment him. Suddenly you put your happiness aside and the realization hit you that he believed if he’d confessed himself to you, this could have been avoided.

“JJ, what are you saying?” You rushed to him, your hand coming up to meet his beautiful face, “Don’t ever believe that. This is none of your fault. It’s his. No one else’s.”

He shook his head, furrowing his eyebrows. JJ looked away from you, a pained expression on his beautiful features.

“You don’t understand, Y/N.” His voice was strained, “I could have avoided all of this.”

You couldn’t believe he was blaming himself.

You shook your head, “No! JJ, you couldn’t have known. You couldn’t have know how I felt about you. Stop blaming yourself, please. You’re hurting me.”

He turned to look at you again, his gaze immediately finding yours.

Only then did something shift in his eyes. Another realization. This time, JJ felt extremely selfish. He looked into your eyes to see the pain behind them and could only think about how extremely selfish he was being in giving you another burden to carry. The worry of him feeling guilty.

“I’m sorry, angel.” It was all he said.

Exhausted, he slumped against the headboard again, laying down on the cushions. You were hesitant, not really knowing if he wanted your comfort. It was paining you, the absence of his touch. You needed him, but also knew he was fighting another battle in his head.

Then he extended his arm to grab you by your waist and pull you against him. You sighed in relief once in his arms again.

“I really want you to know that it had nothing to do with you. Nothing could have changed it.” You sniffled, your hand coming up to play with his hair.

JJ felt like shit. Here you were, trying to make him feel better when you were the one who’d gone through it.

He nodded for your sake, although in his mind he’d always think that if he’d just told you, maybe you two could have been together. Things could have gone differently for you.

It wasn’t about courage. In fact, JJ didn’t have a single amount of shame in him. It was just that he loved you so much and he was so sure you could never reciprocate his feelings that he preferred not to ruin your friendship. He always thought it was pretty clear he liked you, that the pet names and the constant physical contact gave it away. But apparently they didn’t. Not for you at least.

There wasn’t time for you to wonder about what was going to happen now, the distraction from this moment already subsiding to the pain you’d constantly felt all of this time. It was draining.

You’d love him no matter what, whether he wanted to be with you or not. That, you knew.

Now, you just wanted to feel the comfort he brought you and you just wanted to be with him. To have him so close to you. Because he was the only one who could ease this never ending pain.

His voice cut your thoughts off.

“I wish it could have been me, baby.”

You guessed with all of the tears you’d cried, it’d be physically impossible for you to have any more in you to spill. But apparently not.

“I know, now. That’s all that matters.” You spoke, “You’re all that matters, JJ.”

You felt his heartbeat quicken underneath your head.

“We’ll figure this out together, okay?” He asked.

You held him tighter. You nodded, grateful for his presence.

He spent the rest of the night whispering sweet nothings in your ear, wiping away your tears and caressing your hair. You’d barely speak, too drained from everything.

At some point, you felt sleep carrying you away. But not before a thought occurred to you.

“I love you, too, by the way.” You whispered softly.

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reidsqlick · 2 months

Text

You’re back.. || (S.R)

The second part of “You’ll be back, right?” — Part One!

pairing(s): Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

summary: he said he’d be back for you, you waited.. he hadn’t shown.. what’ll happen?

warning(s): (MDNI 18+) stress, nausea, self-degradation, skin picking, pet-names, fingering, swearing !! (i believe that’s all..)

word count: 1,8k

‘He had gotten up from the mattress, it springing up due to the loss of his weight. Once he reached the handle of the door you yelled out to him, "You'll be back, right?" your voice drowsy, dripping with tiredness.

He looked back for a moment, smiling softly, "Right."’

—

The room was pale, normal for a hotel room. It was dark, gloomy, very much on the brink of unsettling. You hadn’t quite realized this before.. not really minding the room, it’s average, right? You’ve been on this job to be able to say you’ve been in enough hotel rooms than the average person does in a lifetime, but this room.. it’s different. A pit starts to form in your stomach, a feeling of utter emptiness.

Well.. now it’s different. The obvious lack of your previous partner is enough to make you weak, not that you weren’t already.. but your mental state is becoming ever so fragile by the second. He hadn’t returned. He said he’d be ‘right back’ and truly, an hour and a half doesn’t seem to be ‘right back’ to me.

Reid had always been a man of his word.. in fact, he had promised you he hadn’t wanted to leave, yet the minute he did and got the chance to be stripped of your company, he took it. The pit in your stomach grows. Didn’t he want you as a partner? Didn’t he want what you wanted? Did he lie? Why does he always make you feel like this, one second he likes you, the next he’s gone without a word.

Tears begin to form in the creases of my eyes. Am I truly that naive? So naive I let the man I’d fallen hopelessly for three years ago take my virginity? I had to constantly remind myself not to let myself go, and here I am.. alone in a hotel room miles away from home, hopelessly trying to grip onto a sliver of hope that he’ll return any second.

The sad part is I actually thought he’d be back, I trusted him with my feelings, with my body. My stomach turns, a single tear falling from my eye and burning my skin, like a fire igniting within me… anger? No, not at all anger, but pure regret. I told myself I’d handle myself around guys, especially that one, and I hadn’t. I left myself down. Another tear falls from my glassy eye.

I want to reverse what happened, go back and tell myself that this had to have been another thing for Reid to have against you, another way for him to turn against you, another way to control your feelings in a way that was more than belittling.

I claw at my skin, picking at it, dangerously close to drawing blood, but I don’t care. My stress takes control, my body shaking, my skin an absolute wreck. I need an out, I need to be out. I want to be home.

I feel nauseous.

I’m rocking myself from side to side, a mechanism I’ve had since I was a child. Biting my lip, picking at the skin that surrounds my nails. I feel like a child. I’m so childish. Couldn’t I have denied him? Why do I let him into my heart when all he does is break mine? The pit in my stomach drops, I need to puke.

I crawl out of bed, and run to the bathroom, jerking myself forward, feeling my stomach turn. I hate loving Spencer Reid. It’s a mistake, one I shouldn’t have made, one I poorly made. I need to take it back, I need to leave the team, I need to be home, why did I drink so much?

As I sit there, direly close to puking everywhere, I hear the doorknob rattle, once the person on the other end had realized the door was locked, a knock came seconds later. I pulled myself off of the floor, I’m dizzy. Mental note to self: take medication for this headache.

When I open the door, unaware that it would’ve been smarter to look through the peephole before, it opens to a panting Reid, a concerned look on his face, a sigh of relief leaving his mouth when he saw my face.

He reached his arms out, springing forward to hug me, and he won’t even shake hands with people? His arms on me feel all too familiar, I’m nauseous. I want to push him away, but I need him here, I’m a puddle of nothing without him.

I’m so pathetic, it’s depressing.

I sniffle, having only cried minutes earlier. “Where were you?” I said quietly, almost a whisper. He frowned, keeping his hands steady on my waist “Pretty Girl…” he shook his head at what seemed to be himself, “I’m so sorry. I went to grab clothes for tomorrow so I would be able to stay with you tonight, I didn’t want to leave you alone..” he said, voice cracking.

“I didn’t mean it, I had searched my go bag and couldn’t find anything, I stressed, and that stress led to me being so tired I fell asleep, i didn’t want to leave you, love.. please understand.” You sniffle again, another tear falling from your eye, is he lying? If so, it’s got to be the worst lie he could’ve come up with.

He lifted one of his hands to your face, his thumb wiping away your tears, your cheek felt hot, the same fire from earlier getting hotter. “I waited for you.. you promised you’d be back..” you looked down, not needing to see him right now, it didn’t help your case.

“Angel..” his hand still soft on your face, his touch seemingly healing all that’s wrong. “you’ve got to believe me, I wouldn’t leave you like that, ever. You should’ve came and woke me up.” He shook his head again, “I shouldn’t have even been sleeping, princess.. trust me when I say I didn’t mean this even a little bit.”

You had to tell him you were a virgin, but first you needed to not be standing up, you were already dizzy, and this is the type of conversation you’d sit for. You waddle to your bed slowly, him following suit, once sat he was directly next to you, sitting against the headboard, hand slung around your waist, thumb rubbing circles into your plush skin.

“Reid…” your voice cracked, “I need to tell you something.” He nodded, “Mhm?”. The pit in your stomach returns again, eating you from the inside out. “I’m.. a.. well I was.. a-“ a tear falls down my cheek “virgin.” He’d completely had moved to face you, hand moving to your face to wipe your tears.

“Angel,” he spoke, quieting you when you’d almost interrupted him, “why didn’t you tell me? I.. was I? Too much..?” You giggled foolishly, tears still leaving your eyes, the faint taste of salt now lingering on your lips. “No, not too much.. just.. figured you- should know.”

He smiled softly, moving both of his hands to the side of your face, “Can I kiss you?” He asked, you nodded. “Do we have to go through this again? I’d prefer it if you used your words, Angel.” All that could leave your mouth was a faint “yes,” a whisper, silent consent for him to make his next move.

His mouth was on yours in an instant, his tongue entering your mouth tasted like your tears, making you wince. You melted into the kiss, feeling safe, feeling content.

The kiss had gotten heated quickly, your hips bucking into the air, a faint “please” left your lips. He broke of the kiss, “Hm? Couldn’t hear you, princess..” “Please, I-“ he chuckled, “You?” you looked down.. “I want.. more.. please?” He’d move his hand to your chin, lifting it, enforcing eye contact.

“Your wish is my command, pretty girl.” He smirked, spreading your legs, and reaching under your pajama pants, finding your apparent lack of underwear. “Oh..” he smirked “so wet already, all ready for me, right? No panties.. you wanted this.” His finger ran up your slit “you were waiting for this.” Your head fell back, whimpering his name.

He groaned in appreciation, his hand moving to circle your clit, watching your hips buck, hearing your name fall from your mouth with no remorse, he loves this. He loves you. Always has.. “Feel good, doesn’t it? I’m gonna take care of you, Angel.” More whimpers left your mouth.

He didn’t want to be too harsh on you, he wanted to take care of you, to apologize in the only way he knew. He was good with statistics, talked about them for hours, rambling as much as he could get in a conversation. His feelings? They’ve always been hard for him, he’s best through expressing how he feels physically. This is his way of apologizing, and you knew it without him even telling you.

He stopped his circles to move his fingers down to your aching cunt, it tightening around nothing, you were his favorite sight he’s ever seen by far. “You ready for them, princess?” He asks you, teasing you softly, “y- mhm, mhm yes.” You were essentially incoherent, he understood half of it, and the other half was answered by your body’s reaction to his words.

His fingers entered you slowly, but couldn’t keep that pace for long, watching your face contort under him was something that’s going to be ingrained in his mind for the rest of his life. His pace had sped up fairly quickly, not too fast where it’d hurt, but fast enough to make your legs shake with such ease you didn’t even know how a person could do such things.

You gripped onto the sheets, whimpering incoherently, “I- p- lease… m- fuck.. close…” how he can make you so needy, and get you ever so close in such a short amount of time baffles the both of you, he chucked, moving faster.. anything for you, forever. Your head cocked forward and you had locked eyes with Spencer, “I- Reid.. I’m- c-“ he cut you off, “let go for me baby, please. Let me make this up to you..” he brought his thumb back up to rub small, tight circles, matching the rhythm his fingers had kept.

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave. Your whole body warm, to cold, to hot, shaking like you had just hours before due to him. You had pulled your pajamas back up, and gotten closer to him, needing him.

The pit in your stomach was gone, vanishing without a trace.

“Thank you…” you smiled up at him, snuggling into his chest. He rubbed circles into your waist with his hand, “Anything, Angel. I don’t care what I have to do, but I promise, I’ll make this up. You didn’t deserve any of that, me leaving you? That was cruel, and I’m sorry.” He took a deep breathe, “I’m never going to leave you like that again.”

You spoke up, “Promise? And I mean promise. No empty ones, but ones you’ll stick to.” He smiled to himself, “Promise. I’ll fulfill however many promises it takes to make this one up to you..” you giggled, “I love you.” He whispered, making himself just loud enough so you could hear him, “I love you too.”

The room was livable again, I could breathe. I was relieved, the walls no longer feeling claustrophobic, I guess I won’t leave the team after all… Spencer’s worth waiting for.

A/N: I’m so sorry this is SOOOO bad holy shit but here you guys go i hope uu like it! please, i beg.. tell me how i did or something feedback really helps w stuff like this 🙏🙏

#Spencer Reid #Spencer Reid smut #smut #criminal minds #gublergram #gublerland #gublernation #gublerween #mgg #mgg imagine #mgg smut #mgg x reader #mgg pics #spencer reid x you #cm #cm smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader

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