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#shit but not enough to do much more than pick them up quicker and keep them from scarring and give them sort of this unending ill feeling.
trollbreak · 7 months
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Ummmmm Pyrric and catsup and the space pirate guy* with the octopus tattoo were experiment buddies btw :3
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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 years
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Eddie Muson x fem!reader[3.2k] prompt: patching Eddie up after he got into a fight. Soft Eddie, clothes sharing, Eddie's a little huffy shit.
Eddie Munson was not a fighter. 
Not that you knew of, at least. You’d spent enough time with him in dive bars and after gigs to know that Eddie had a look to him that was just intimidating enough to keep trouble away. He was more man than boy now, all black leather, big rings, skulls and crossbones. 
The strong lines of his nose and jaw made him look a little sharp and it created some sort of barrier, one that most people didn’t want to cross. You’d sit on his lap at these bars, tucked into the corner with his friends, tucked into him. 
You’d tease him a little, soft mocking that was always soothed by a kiss straight away. Your whispers would be laced with cheap beer and sticky sweetness, his hands curled around your thigh as you told him how scary he was, how badass he looked on stage. 
You told him all that, grinning, only to remind him the act always crumbled when he jumped off of the stage, found you and smiled. Maybe beam was more of the correct word, that slow stretch of his lips that showed off his dimples. You swore it made his eyes brighter, chocolate brown to caramel, all brown sugar and fondness. 
Eddie Munson melted, but only for you. 
And after over a year with the boy, you could readily confirm that he was very much a lover, not a fighter. 
It’s why you were so surprised to get a call from Gareth one night, not all that late. You’d worked overtime and came home with a headache, annoyed with yourself when you had to tell Eddie that you weren’t feeling up to a gig tonight. His band wasn’t even playing, it was just some other guys from out of town playing some Dio covers, but it upset you nonetheless to have to cancel on the boy. 
Eddie had just pulled you into his arms, pressing soft kisses into your cheeks, laying down a pretty line of them until he could brush his lips over your forehead, pressing his nose to your hairline as he told you not to worry. 
“Can have my girl feeling shitty for the sake of some bad guitar and lukewarm beer,” he’d said. 
Eddie had left you in your bed in one of his shirts, a soft grey thing with a sun bleached Metallica logo on the front. It still smelled like him, smoke and spice, something a little woodsy, something that reminded you of coffee and home. 
It’s probably why you fell asleep so quickly, the credits of the movie you’d only seen the beginning of rolling across the screen as your phone rang. It was disorienting, the clock telling you it had only just passed eleven, the few hours of sleep you’d gotten making you feel heavy and slow. 
A phone call after eight o’clock always made you panic and your heart was racing a little quicker when you picked it up, the house dark and empty as you stood in your kitchen with the receiver pressed to your ear. 
Hearing Eddie’s friend on the other line did nothing to soften that worry and as soon as you realised it was Gareth, your voice was a rush of panic, asking the boy what was wrong, where was Eddie, was he okay?
But then he was telling you to calm down, Eddie was fine. But this was more than a ‘one too many beers’ situation, and that your boyfriend has landed himself in a little trouble. Gareth was almost laughing as he told you that the other boy was refusing to get into the car. 
You could hear Eddie in the background, voice sounding a little drunk and a lot forlorn as he whined about how “she’s gonna be so mad at me.”
“Gareth, what did he do?”
“Defended your honour and got himself punched in the face.”
You gasped, shocked at the idea of Eddie in a fight and before you could ask if he was okay, or what had even happened, Jeff was wrestling the pay phone out of his friend's hand and telling you excitedly, “s’okay! You should’ve seen the other guy!”
 You closed your eyes, head leaning on the doorframe of the kitchen and you sighed. 
“I’ll be there in twenty.“
You had the common sense to pull on some pyjama shorts before you stuffed your bare feet into some old trainers, Eddie’s shirt covering the majority of your thighs anyway. You were lucky the night was still warm as you got into your car, pulling out into the dark streets towards The Hideout. 
There were a bunch of boys in the parking lot, loitering and looking entirely too menacing in leather and spikes, chains and rings and messy hair. Smoke surrounded most of them, pretty tendrils of grey blue in the air and they would’ve been an intimidating sight if it wasn’t for the curly haired boy lying flat on the grass, a pout on his lips and his hand holding his cheek. 
You parked the car a little askew, not really caring as the pub’s patrons started to clear out, an annoyed barmaid standing at the front door as she yelled about how cleaning up blood wasn’t part of her job description. 
Eddie didn’t see you walk over, in fact, he didn’t see you at all until you were standing over him, hands on your hips and head tilted to the side. 
“Hey, slugger.”
The boy’s eyes opened in a flash, something softening in them at the sight of you. But then he groaned, wincing, as if waiting for his scolding. It never came, you were far more concerned about how he was feeling. 
“Baby,” Eddie mumbled and he said it like ‘sorry.’ A soft sigh escaped him and he sat up, a palm curling warm around the back of your bare calf. “Who called you?”
“Gareth,” you told him, one hand going to his head. Your fingers scraped through his curls, a little messy and tangled from whatever scuffle he managed to get himself into. 
Eddie lay his head against the soft of your tummy, cheek resting against his own shirt and he glared accusingly at the boy, who had the right to look a little scared. 
“Snitch,” Eddie grunted before turning back into you, face pressed against your stomach and he drew lines up the backs of your thighs with gentle fingers. 
“You okay?” You asked him, soft enough that the rest of his friends wouldn’t hear. “What happened?”
A grunt, a grumble and a kiss to your ribs was all you really got before you tugged a little at his curls, making his head fall back so he would look at you. Eddie was pouting again. 
“Eddie,” you admonished, thumbing over the soft push of his bottom lip, smiling and rolling your eyes when he pressed a kiss to it. “What happened?”
“M’fine,” he told you, “just those assholes from Trash Monkey talkin’ shit and not knowing when to shut up.”
You knew of the other band he was talking about, some guys from the next town over who always drank too much and ended up smashing up a guitar on stage. So you hummed in agreement, your fingertips finding the edge of a fresh bruise that was beginning to bloom on your boyfriend's cheek. 
The colours bled into the corner of his eye, lilacs and blues, ringed by red, angry skin. You tutted, watched the way Eddie’s eyes fluttered shut against your gentle contact and you had to tap his chin to get his attention again. 
You held him there, finger thumb on stubble, keeping his eyes on you. 
“What happened, Eds?” He still hadn’t answered that question. 
The rest of the boys went quiet and no one said anything when Eddie just shrugged, gaze flickering off to the side so he didn’t have to look at your earnest expression. You huffed, dropping your hand from his chin and gesturing to your car instead. 
“Come on,” you told him, “let’s go.”
He followed without argument, an overgrown puppy at your heels and he barely said bye to his friends as he placed a hand on your back, chancing a touch despite knowing you weren’t happy with him. You didn’t like being kept in the dark. 
You didn’t speak again until you were back on the main road that led you into town, away from the dive bars and open fields, where little street light leaked into the dark. 
“Mine or yours?” You asked, eyes on the road. 
He was fiddling with his rings, knuckles a little swollen and red, the finger with his skull ring split at the thickest part, bloodied and angry looking. 
“You got beer in the house, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, “‘cause I need one.” He was prodding at his cheek, the slant of it mottled with different colours, the bruise darkening as time ticked by. 
Eddie hissed as he pushed into a particularly tender spot. He frowned and so did you. 
You didn’t answer him, you merely just turned into your street, knowing that your house was empty and your dad definitely had some beers in the fridge. And you knew Eddie liked your bed better than his. 
“Why won’t you tell me what happened?”
“Because you don’t like it when I fight,” Eddie mumbled petulantly. 
You took your eyes off the road long enough to spare a glance at the boy, bathed in the yellow orange of the flickering street lights. Eddie was leaving into the seat, cheek pressed to the fabric and gazing at you from underneath his lashes. He looked too pretty, bruises and all, and you wanted to reach out and brush away his curls.
“I don’t like it when you teach Dustin and Max how to pick locks either,” you grumbled good naturedly, “but you still do that too.”
Eddie grinned, boyish and like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
He was still looking at you when you parked back in your driveway, silence sweeping over your both as you turned off the engine. Eddie’s hand reached over the console to squeeze at the soft of your thigh, bare skin a little colder now that you’d been away from your bed for so long. He tugged at the hem of your sleep shorts, smiled fond when he realised it was his shirt you were wearing.
“Thanks for comin’ to get me, sweetheart,” Eddie mumbled.
He sounded tired, but not drunk, and you turned to him with a twist to your lips, unable to hide your smile even though you still weren’t best pleased with your boyfriend. “In the house Munson, c’mon.”
Your hands were on Eddie's ass as you persuaded him up your stairs and into your family’s bathroom. He protested softly, once, twice, telling you that he was fine and the beer was in the kitchen, not the bathroom. But once he clocked the furrow between your brow, the downturn of your lips, he gave in and let you manhandle him into the small room.
You didn’t have to ask him to sit on the countertop, Eddie did it anyway, bangs falling into his eyes and the low glow of the vanity light turned him into shades of gold and peach. He watched you in silence as you moved around the room, opening cabinets and drawers until you gathered what you needed, cotton wool, antiseptic and flannels thrown onto the counter beside the boy. 
Quick work was made as you filled the sink up with some cold water, tilting your head towards it as you unscrewed the cap to the bottle of cleaning alcohol. You wrinkled your nose at the smell of it and waved away Eddie’s sore hands as he tried to help.
“No, no,” you told him softly, “put your hands in the sink babe, we need to get those rings off.”
Eddie frowned but did as he was told, his leather jacket already a heap on the floor and you toed it out of the way when he grunted, scrunching his pretty features at you in disdain.
“Baby, it’s fuckin’ cold.”
You snorted, grinning at his whine, “I know,” you told him, “your knuckles are all swollen, dummy, we need to cool them down first.”
Despite your words, your tone was still soft, all soothing as you busied yourself around the boy. And when you had enough cotton soaked in antiseptic, you tapped at Eddie’s knee and he hissed as he took his hands out of the cold water.
“Can’t feel my goddamn fingers,” Eddie groaned.
“Oh, good,” you smiled, a little mockingly, “that’ll make this easier then.” And with that, you eased off each of his heavy, silver rings, the band still a little tight over his poor, swollen knuckles but they came off much easier than they would’ve before.
Eddie made soft noises of discomfort as the metal passed over the broken skin, cuts in the lines of his fingers that were still a little bloody. You hushed him, soothing sounds leaving your lips in nonsensical words of comfort. 
“I know, pretty boy, m’sorry, almost there.” 
Each ring clattered against the side of the sink and you didn’t give him much warning before you were stepping between the boy’s knees and bringing a hand to your chest. You pressed a quick kiss to his palm before you swept the cotton over each knuckle, soaking the open wounds in disinfectant. 
Eddie jumped and hissed, his thighs tightening around your waist as he pulled you into him. He was frowning, big brown eyes a little sad, glaring at you as if you’d meant to hurt him.
“Don’t be a baby,” you murmured, smiling at his cute pout. 
“That shit stings,” he grumbled back, shuffling on the counter until his ass was closer to the edge, granting you more room between his knees to curl into him. 
“Well, don’t get into fights, Eds,” you levelled him with a stare, one he knew too well. “Wouldn’t have to douse you in alcohol, would I? God knows what kinda bar germs are stuck in these cuts.”
“You’re hot when you’re mean, you know that?” His voice was all smooth and warm, honey and sugar, flirting as much as apologising.
You rolled your eyes at him, didn’t bother to try and hide your smile as you continued to wipe down his sore hands. You dumped the bloodied cotton in the trash when you were done, tutted and took the boy’s chin between your finger and thumb to inspect his bruised cheek. 
“You’re gonna look like a badass in the morning, babe,” you told him, your own pout painting your lips at the sight of his sore face. “That’s gonna be some bruise.”
“You mean even more of a badass?” Eddie smirked, all messy hair and dark eyes.
Another roll of your eyes, a huff of laughter and you relented easily when his hands curled around your wrists, tugging you to him. He was taller than usual on his perch beside the sink, a whole head and shoulders above you. But his palm found its way to your jaw, fingers sweeping along the slope of it until his thumb smoothed over your cheek. Eddie leaned in and down, crowding over you - smoke and bourbon and warmth and home.
His nose nudged yours, bumping into your cheek, foreheads touching. “Kiss,” he mumbled, soft and sleepy.
“Demanding,” you whispered.
“Please,” came next, sticky sweet and like candy against the corner of your lips. Eddie was hovering, mouth over yours, waiting, as if you’d ever deny him. “Please, baby?”
You indulged him then, let him kiss away the smile he created, mouth slipping over yours, trapping your bottom lip between his. He tasted like whiskey and weed, like Eddie. It was one of those kisses that made you feel so loved, like he was coveting every pass of your mouth over his, a slow sweep of his tongue against your own, nose smushed to your cheek like he could never, ever get close enough.
Eddie pulled back just enough, close enough to lean into you still, to swipe his thumb over your bottom lip and murmur a soft “thank you,” into your neck.
It wasn’t until you were tangled together in your bed, sheets pushed to the bottom of the mattress, pillows askew because your head preferred Eddie’s bare chest, that he eventually spilled his secret. Your leg was thrown over his lip, bare apart from his shirt, one hand in your hair and the other pushed under the soft cotton, palm warm against your spine.
You were both fighting sleep, that heavy lull that made your cheek smush to the muscles in his chest. Eddie was grazing his lips over your hairline, a soft back and forth that made it difficult to even hear him when he whispered to your temple:
“Baby?”
You stirred, tightened your hold around his waist and hummed in response.
“M’sorry I got into a fight,” he whispered, the darkness of your room making him feel a little braver, “I didn’t mean to.”
You sighed soft, pushing your lips to the slant of the boy’s collar bone as if you could kiss his apology away. “Eds it’s okay, don’t have to be sorry, jus’ don’t like seeing you hurt, that’s all.”
He hummed in understanding, a hand coming to sweep back your hair as he littered tiny kisses across your cheek, your nose. Everything was slow and lazy, soft and worn down with sleep. It was lovely, it made you ache, made you wonder how you could possibly ever sleep on the nights that you didn’t have Eddie beside you.
“Matty T made a comment about you,” he mumbled, “that cocky little shit of a drummer from Trash-”
“Trash Monkey,” you finished for him, “yeah, I know. He’s an ass,” you agreed, wondering what the other boy could have possibly said for Eddie to lash out.
“He is,” Eddie nodded and it was so dark in your room that you could only barely make out the soft whites of his eyes when you pulled back to gaze at him. “He asked me where you were, said somethin’ disgusting ‘bout how I needed to learn how to share.”
You wrinkled your nose. “That’s pretty gross, yeah.”
Eddie mumbled something you couldn’t quite hear before he tucked his face into your neck, nose pressed to the spot he liked to kiss the most. His arms found your waist again, winding round tight, his palms smoothing up your sides until he found bare skin. 
Bare hips, bare waist, bare breasts. He sighed, kissed under your ear and curled closer.
“Told him he was a fuckin’ pig who needed to learn some manners,” the boy continued, “but he kept runnin’ his damn mouth.”
Suddenly, you didn’t feel as mad as you previously had about your boyfriend’s sudden change in temper. 
“Punched the asshole before I even realised, Gareth stepped in, then musta’ called you.”
“Oh,” you breathed, wondering if it was possible to love the boy more. “Not that I’m encouraging violence, baby, but thank you… I think.”
Eddie snorted, face burrowing closer into you, one hand finding the bend in your knee so he could hitch your leg to a little higher on his hip. You weren’t sure where you ended and he started. You definitely didn’t mind. 
“Knight in shining armour, am I right?”
“More like Tarzan in a leather jacket,” you grinned, “but just as sweet, sure.”
You got a grin back, another kiss, soft and as sweet as the boy. 
“I’ll take it,” Eddie told you happily. 
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readerlovr · 6 months
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I’ll take care of you
Pt 1
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Warnings: NSFW, Sub!Drew, dom!reader, masturbation (female), handjob, P in V smut, edging, overstimulation, 18+
You pull Drew out of the building and he follows you like a stray puppy. You get in the car after you find out that Drew had a valet drive the car from the helicopter pad where you took off to the landing pad where you landed. The valet wasn’t quite ready to pick you guys up yet given you didn’t use the full estimated time of the picnic because you ate Jack shit. But you didn’t mind because you were teasing Drew all over again trying to gain his stamina back up. And it very much worked. By the time you got in the car his bulge was so big that he couldn’t hide it. Y’all’s place was quite a ways away from where you were, and you just couldn’t wait.
“You look so sexy baby.” You whisper to Drew in his ear after you take your seatbelt off.
“Baby.” He whines. “Come on, I’m driving.”
You don’t care. You start kissing his neck and going up till you reach behind his ear which is his sweet spot. He jerks away from you, trying to get away from the pleasure while he’s driving, but he doesn’t say anything. You grab his head to hold him in place as you start your attack behind his ear again. You can tell he tries to hold back his moans for as long as he can but once you placed your hand right over his package, he moaned loudly and jerked in his seat a bit which caused him to slam on the breaks a little harder than usual. You giggle at his actions as you massage him down there for a couple more seconds before you pull your hand back and sit in your seat. He takes a minute to compose himself mentally before he looks at you and shakes his head.
“You’re going to be the death of me, love.”
You smile to yourself.
“Oh come on. I was just having fun. I like making you feel good.” You say in a sweet voice.
“I know you do baby. But we have to survive this car ride home first.”
You chuckle at his comment.
“Fine, I won’t touch you for the rest of the ride.”
“Thank you.” He responds with a sweet smile.
“I’ll just touch myself.”
His face immediately drops. In an instant you’re pulling up your skirt and pushing down your underwear. Even though he just made you cum no longer than 20 minutes ago, you could go multiple rounds with Drew. But you’re doing this because he loves to watch you. It’s drives him crazy.
“Baby please. We might actually crash.” He says taking quick glances at your exposed flower.
“I trust you won’t let that happen handsome.”
He let out a frustrated whine as he knew he wasn’t winning this one. You took two of your middle fingers and sucked on them. When they were nice and lubricated you slowly traveled them down your body, giving his peripheral view a show. Once you’re at your core you rub your fingers on your clit, and you moan loudly.
“Mmm baby. I can’t wait to make you feel good just like I’m making myself feel good. Hurry up and get us home please.”
“Doing the best I can Y/n.” He says tight lipped.
You keep circling your clit until you feel like you’re wet enough. Once you feel your wetness, you stick your fingers in. You gasp at the feeling. You start going in and out slowly. It’s quiet in the car except for the sounds of other cars outside, so you both heard you making a mess so clearly. And he loved how filthy it sounds. He can’t help but to fully look over at your actions. He parts his lips in awe and he pants through his mouth. He’s so hot. He could make you cum just by looking at him.
“Like what you see baby?”
He dumbly nods as if he has not control over his body. He looks about ready to get on his hands and knees to eat you.
“Eyes on the road baby. Since you were so worried about it before.” As you move your fingers faster so the squelching sound of your core gets quicker. He looks in his rear view and his side mirror, and you know he’s thinking to pull over.
“Don’t pull over.” You say just as he touched the blinker.
“Why?” He whines.
“Because once I’m done having my way with you, you’d be too exhausted to drive baby.”
He clenched his jaw trying to keep his composure once again, but you just go faster. The faster you go the louder you moan.
“Baby girl please, you’re going to make my cum in my pants again.” He says as he palms himself. You love teasing him, however you can’t have him cumming just yet. So against your better judgment you decide to stop teasing him.
“Okay baby. I’ll stop.”
You pull your fingers out and he immediately turns to you with his mouth open. You gladly gave him what he wanted as he sucked off all of you off your fingers. He moans around your fingers.
“Thank you baby.”
You stay in your seat and check him out the entire ride back. As soon as we were in the neighborhood. You attacked him with so many kisses. Neck, face, jaw, ears. He pulled into the driveway and parks. You can feel his energy switch from having to hold back to letting it all loose. He grabs your hair and kisses you back with full force. He sticks his tongue in your mouth and moans in your mouth.
“Can we go inside now?” He asked.
“Of course baby.” You both unbuckle your seatbelt as you basically race to the door. And soon as you get in you immediately slam him into the door and kisses him. He hums into the kiss and grabs both of your thighs. He does this to you telling you to jump so he could carry toy but you deny him this time.
“No baby, it’s time for me to make you feel good. Let’s go upstairs.” You take his hand as he follows you upstairs.
Once you get in the bedroom you close the door. You drag Drew to the bed and push him on top of it. His legs are still dangling off so you straddle his lower stomach as you lean down to kiss him. While kissing you back, he sits up causing you to slide down to be seated on his crotch. He moans at the immediate contact. You move your hips back and forth to make him moan louder which he does.
“Come on Y/n stop teasing.”
“It’s our engagement night baby, I can tease you for as long as I want.”
He took strained exhale as you circle his crotch harder than you did the last time. But ultimately you decide it’s enough teasing for your own sake.
You get off his lap as you help him take off his shirt and pants.
“Lay close to the headboard, baby.”
He listens immediately. You love when Drew’s subby side comes out. He’s so cute that you can’t help but give him what he wants. You give him a show by striping down to your underwear and straddling him. You once again grind yourself down on him. And he jerks his whole body and huffs out a moan as his hands comes to your hips. You take his hands off my hips and place them beside his head and hold them there with your weight as you decided to grind harder and faster.
“Ngh, fuck baby.”
“Feels good, Drew?” You asked just like he asked you in that building. He nods his head unwilling to comprehend words. He looks so hot right now, just taking whatever you give him and he doesn’t even complain. You get off and pull his underwear down and his dick springs out and slaps his stomach. He shuts his eyes in anticipation of what you were going to do. By the time you completely got his underwear off for him he already created a pool of precum on his stomach. You grab his dick from the base and lick his stomach clean. He looks down at you in awe. You come back up facing him, still holding the base of his dock in your hands. He stares up at you with his big blue eyes waiting for you to do something. So you do. You don’t warm him up by going slow, you go straight into jack hammer mode. His precum is creating perfect lube for you as it’s constantly leaking out.
He shouts so loudly from being caught off guard. He squirms his hips and shakes his head.
“Mmm baby please!”
“What’s wrong hun?”
“I can’t!”
“You can what baby?” You respond as you keep your pace exactly the same. He moans three times in a row. Before squirming again.
“It’s too much!”
“Too much? We barely got started Drew.”
He’s trying to be good for you. So much. But you are making it so hard for him. You keep jerking him off at the same pace and when his body starts to shake and convulse because of him trying to hold his orgasm back. You stopped.
“You’re doing so good for me Drew.”
He whimpers with his eyes closed. His hands covers his face as he feels like he needs time to recover. You’ve never seen him this subby before. You slid up the bed to meet him at his face. You pry his hands away from his face.
“You okay baby?”
He nods and tries to cover his face again but you stop him.
“Hey, I need you to use words baby.” You say in the softest voice you could manage.
“I’m okay mama. I was just really close to cumming. It took a lot of energy to stop it.”
“Okay, do you want some water?”
He shook his head.
“No, just give me a minute please.”
“Anything for you baby.”
You leaned down to kiss him which he gladly accepts. He says he didn’t want any water but you remembered you have a bottle in the nightstand so you reach over and open the drawer to get it. You tell him to take a sip of it, then you put it back. You kiss him all over his face until he’s ready again.
“Okay I’m ready.” He says after a couple of minutes. You kiss him deeply as you mix your tongues together and moan into eachothers mouths. You pull away to take your underwear off your body.
“You ready for me baby?”
He whimpers and nods before you give him a slight smack to the cheek to remind him to use his words.
“Yes beautiful. I’m ready for you. I always am.”
Without anymore words, you slide right down his dick to the brim. He throws his head back and jerks his hands to almost touch your hips, but caught himself before he could do it.
“Can I touch you baby, please?”
“Not yet baby, be patient.” You say as you push his hands back down to the sides of his face. He moves his hands to grip the headboard so he wouldn’t be tempted. He lets out breathy moans as you fuck him into yesterday. He looks so good that you start feeling too good for your own body. You won’t be able to last long with him being so good all night.
He threw his head back again and moaned louder as you changed the pace.
“That feels good Drew?”
He nods deliriously. “Mhm.” Is the only thing he could salvage. You start riding him faster trying to make him feel good as possible. You leaned down and suckled behind his ear knowing that would drive him crazy. He literally shouted.
“Baby, can I- can I cum?”
“Mm I don’t know Drew. You edged me earlier because you said I was being a tease just because i wanted my crazy attractive, amazing boyfriend to feel good. I think that’s a little mean, don’t you think?” You asked a bit out of breath from your excursions.
“Mmm.” Is all he got out. You know because he used up all of his energy to hold his orgasm back before he doesn’t have the energy to hold it for too long if you keep fucking him. You wait too hear one more loud shout before you pull him out. He lets out a relieved but a breath control exhale.
“Just breathe baby. I got you. It’s okay.” You say before you slid down on his dick again but harder this time.
Drew’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he shakes his head no. He lets in a long inhale, but he lets it out in staggers.
“Breathe baby, it’s okay, you got it.”
He shakes his head again.
“Baby I’m going to cum!” He says in a higher pitched voice than normal.
“It’s okay baby you could cum.”
That’s all he needed for him to let go completely. He lets out a strangled moan as his release sucker punches him in the gut.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” The last fuck was drawn out.
You keep fucking him through his orgasm. When he comes down he moves his hands from the headboards trying to stop you, you take his hands again and hold it down with your weight. He can obviously take control if he really wanted to given he was stronger than you but he loved letting you take control.
“Baby it’s too much! I’m too sensitive!”
You poked your lips out at him giving him a mock sad face.
“I know baby. But do you think you could handle it until I cum?”
He rolls his eyes closed and nods.
“Anything for you my love.”
You lean down to kiss him softly. You love this man with all your heart. You pick up the pace a little and he furrows his brows from his sensitivity.
“It’s okay baby, I’m almost there okay.”
He nods. You take your middle fingers and stick them into Drew’s moist and he sucks on them immediately. He knew exactly what you wanted, and he knows you find it so hot when he does that. You take your fingers out his mouth with a pop as you move your fingers to rub your clit. You take your other hand and guide his hand to your body, silently telling him he could touch you now.
From to the way Drew looks to the way he is acting, it’s turning you on so bad, you’re right on the brink of an orgasm. He’s gripping you everywhere, trying to make up for lost time where he couldn’t touch you.
Right when your core starts clenching when you’re close, Drew body starts jerking again. His head thrashed from side to side.
“What’s happening to me?” He whimpers and squeezes your hips so tight you might be bruised in the morning.
You keep going knowing that another orgasm blindsided Drew and he didn’t know he could have orgasms back to back like that. You keep going and you too go over the edge when you hear the most beautiful guttural sound from your fiancé.
“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.” He chants along with some other things you can’t quite make out. You moan in his ear as you finish your orgasm as well.
You lie on his chest as you both come down. When you come down you notice Drew still have aftershocks of his orgasm. You pull him out of you as he hisses. You could still see small spurts of cum leaving his dick. You look at his whole body in awe right now. Totally fucked out, flushed skin all over, and as you suspected he has no energy at all. He is dozing off by the time you go get cleaned up. You take a washcloth and start to wipe him down. He jerks hard and tries to push your hand away.
“Please, no more.”
“I know baby. It’s over I got to clean you up. I’m sorry.” You kiss his hip in consolation. But that didn’t stop his squirming as you cleaned him.
“Okay all done.”
He holds out his arms for you to cuddle him which you gladly do after throwing the washcloth in the hamper. He lays his head on your chest.
“Goodnight my beautiful fiancé.”
Even after fucking him delirious he still knows what to say.
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masterjedilenawrites · 5 months
Note
Hello there! I have a promt for you :)
What about TBB reacting to Omega getting her first period and/or the reader having a fear of needles but she needs a vaccination to travel to a planet?
Hello! I actually wrote a piece on Omega getting her first period and how her Batch brothers reacted. Read it here! 
I haven't written anything close to the second prompt though, so I can do that one!
TBB & Reader | 1.7k words
Content: fear of needles/trypanophobia and related symptoms, brief description of a deadly disease, Star Wars cursing, platonic but you could read more into the Hunter or Wrecker bits if you wanted (Tech or Crosshair too, tbh, they're not getting any more comforting than that lol)
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To say you were panicking was an understatement. You were utterly and completely freaking out. And worse, you were trying desperately not to let your companions see it. You'd fought valiantly beside them for the better part of a year, never once shying away from the things that would make others quake in their boots. But now you were moments away from having to face your biggest fear, and if they saw what it was, they'd never stop teasing you for it.
So you stayed out of the way as they made their preparations for landing, keeping your trembling hands behind your back and your gaze fixed as steadily as possible on an invisible point on the wall ahead. Thankfully they didn't seem to notice or care that you weren't helping out. But you couldn't escape their attention forever.
"Alright, you're next!" Tech called your name as the last of his brothers left their perch in front of him. You'd been keeping Tech and his needles in your periphery, not wanting to fully look at any of them, but also wanting to keep an eye out in case one of them magically took flight and caught you by surprise.
"No thanks. I'll be fine," you tried to dismiss the plan as nonchalantly as possible. But even Hunter stopped his packing to cock an eyebrow at you.
"You'll be fine?" he asked with a disbelieving laugh, like you'd just said you had a third arm. "It's a disease, sweetheart. You can't shoot it out of the air. Vaccine's the only way to protect yourself."
"It's an airborne virus, to be specific," Tech clarified. "Deadly to any species other than the natives of this planet. But thankfully they've donated enough blood to the GAR to help develop an effective vaccination. It's the only way we can go down to help them against the droids that ravage their world."
You made the mistake of looking over at Tech just as he held up a syringe and flicked its side. Holy kriffing bantha shit, was that needle long and thick. It was like a kriffing pipe. It glinted in the lights of the ship, like it was winking at you. Mocking you. Your heart immediately started picking up its pace.
"I'll take my chances," you tried one last futile attempt at escape. Somehow you kept your voice steady, forcing a normal tone around the frog that had lodged itself your constricting throat. But then Crosshair spared a glance in your direction and the ruse unraveled.
"You're scared," Crosshair stated plainly. He probably saw the bead of sweat that had just formed at your hairline. Or maybe he could see the veins in your neck pulsing quicker than they should've.
"You'll take large boils, severe dehydration, and bloody vomit over a shot?" Echo asked. Wrecker paused along with him and now everyone's attention was focused on your first ever display of fear. Fantastic.
"Not to mention death," Wrecker pointed out. "That's the worst symptom."
"I don't know if it could be called a symptom so much as a consequence," Tech mused.
"A consequence no one in the ship will be facing, thank you," Hunter asserted, finally walking over to you. He placed a firm hand on your shoulder, but his next words were a bit softer. "It doesn't hurt that much. You'll be okay."
You supposed you were grateful they were taking a more questioning and supportive approach than one of teasing, but it still didn't rectify the problem of you needing to go through with this shot anyway.
"I'm not worried about the pain," you muttered. "It's the..."
Your eyes flicked over to where Tech was still holding that damned needle high and proud. A chill overcame you and you felt yourself blanching.
"Okay, okay," Hunter quickly moved his hand to grasp your arm in an effort to keep you upright. "How about you sit down first. We'll walk you through this one step at a time."
Hunter waved Wrecker over and the burly clone immediately came over and picked you up. You weren't cured from your phobia but you did find his embrace comforting. You continued to cling to him as he sat you down on the counter by Tech. He chuckled but didn't protest. He stood next to you and kept his arm securely around you.
"Okay," Hunter said soothingly. "Now let's find a distraction for you. Keep your thoughts on something else."
"Maybe Tech could tell us all about the difference between bacteria and viruses," Echo said sarcastically.
You missed the glare Tech gave in response, unable to even think about what he looked like for fear of picturing a needle in his hands as well.
"Or," Hunter butt in, sensing your need for a different kind of distraction. "Let's practice your knife skills. Here."
He pulled out one of his trusty vibro-knives and placed it in your hand. The hilt was cold against your skin, heavy in your grip. You tried to focus on those sensations instead, and it almost worked in keeping your attention, until a different kind of cold feeling hit your other arm and you freaked out all over again.
"It's only a numbing swab," Tech said with a tinge of annoyance.
"No. No, no, no." You were shaking your hand frantically, scooting yourself backwards on the counter to get as far away as possible. Wrecker's arm tightened around you, preventing you from moving. "Nope. I can't do this."
"Sure you can," Wrecker tried to reassure you, but to no avail. You trembled against his hold.
"No. No, I'll just sit this one out. Stay on the ship. You boys go without me."
Tech huffed again, having to re-explain information he'd already shared when you'd first gotten this mission. "That won't work. We'll still be exposed to the virus and bring it back to the ship with us. We'll have to undergo a whole decontamination process when we're back on Kamino, the ship, too. And then it's quarantine for a minimum of 72 hours...."
You weren't listening. Your face felt wet. Were you crying or just sweating? Hunter was trying to get you to focus back on the blade in your hand, but your fingers were shaking so bad you couldn't even hold it.
"Maybe we should just knock her out," Crosshair said. He'd kept himself out of the situation but now couldn't help himself. Your agitation was too amusing.
"We're not knocking her out," Hunter rolled his eyes before cooing your name. You begrudgingly looked over at him. "It's okay. Please just twirl the knife and don't think about anything else. It'll be over before you know it."
A sudden clatter came from Tech dropping the syringe and you could almost feel Hunter's blood start to boil in annoyance. Just when he kept getting you to a good place....
"Tech," he growled.
You cowered into Wrecker's arms again. This could not be happening.
"What?" Tech was saying. "It slipped."
"I don't want to do this," you moaned, maybe a tad dramatically. You shut your eyes tightly, and prayed that when you opened them again, you'd find this was just some horrible dream.
"Oh for kriff's sake," came Crosshair's voice. "Hold her down."
Wrecker's other hand seized your arm in such a way that you couldn't move it. But even so, it happened so quickly you couldn't process fast enough to keep up. He gripped your arm and then there was a tight pinch as something broke through your skin. By the time your brain caught up to what was happening, Crosshair was already pulling the needle back out, swift and smooth. Your eyes flew open and your mouth formed a silent scream, but there was nothing to panic about anymore. The syringe was back out of sight, and in its place was but a mere drop of blood ballooning on the surface of your skin. Echo quickly stepped in to fix a bandage over it.
And that was that.
"See? Not so bad," Wrecker said with a chuckle. He finally released his hold on you, making you whine a little at the loss of such a solid support. You still felt woozy, though you had to admit the panic was dissipating fast.
Hunter, however, was not getting over his feelings as easily. He scowled at both Tech and Crosshair, though the latter was already leaving the scene to return to packing his weapons kit.
"That was a lot of fuss over nothing," Tech said plainly, refusing to meet Hunter's gaze. "Now I just need my shot, and then we can land and get on with the mission."
"You know, Tech," you said, glad you were able to find your voice again and it not sound too embarrassingly faint. "It might help me to get over this fear if I gave you your shot."
"Ha ha, very funny," the goggled clone shook his head, but then looked up at you nervously to gauge if you were serious. The smirk in your lips combined with the fact your face still hadn't recovered its color was indication enough you were not serious at all, only trying to give him as much grief as he'd given you.
"I think Cross has proved he has the steadiest hand," Echo played along with a smirk of his own.
Tech seemed to consider the idea before scooping up all the supplies onto his tray and shuffling away. "I think I can manage to inject myself, thank you. ETA is five minutes. Chop chop."
You let out a tired laugh as Tech disappeared into the cockpit. The others slowly went into their landing positions as well. Except Hunter, who folded his arms and gave you a strange look.
"So. Needles, huh? I was wondering what your weakness would be."
The faintest of smiles played on his features, helping you settle further into your own relief.
"Thank you," you said in response.
"For what?"
"For not making fun of me... And helping me get through it. Or, at least trying."
Hunter uncrossed his arms and stepped forward so he was close enough to put his hand on your shoulder once more.
"We've got your back. Always."
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pedrosprincesa · 1 year
Text
Landslide
pairings: joel miller x afab!reader
a/n: I didn't mean to become the person that writes fics based on Fleetwood Mac songs, but here I am. I listened to this song yesterday and the idea for this hit me. I am a shitty writer usually, and I am definitely NOT good at writing smut so for now you will only be getting fluffy Joel from me. follow me if you enjoy i guess!!
warnings: fluff, age gap (reader is mid- to late twenties, Joel is 56), not proofread, no use of y/n that I know of, I'm still dyslexic
wc: 3327 <3
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It's not that I expected to have a crush on this man that seemingly picked me out of a dumpster fire. He found me at the brink of death by a few raiders. Joel had a soft spot for women, if that wasn't obvious enough. When he saw me, I didn't look much older than Ellie. The fear in my eyes and how close I knew I was to death gave me more youth I suppose.
Whatever it was, I was grateful to see him after he took out all three men that had been hunting you down. He had blood splattered across his face, panting after the exertion of strength he used to take them out. I would never forget how beautiful I thought he was, just in that moment.
He never meant to have a third person join along on the cross country trip. Hell, taking care of Ellie was enough to wear him out.
Joining about fifteen miles outside of Kansas City, I was met with an unenthusiastic Ellie and a hard-faced Joel. I didn't get the details of the event that occurred right away, but eventually I learned quickly that unenthusiastic wasn't normal for Ellie, and Joel... well, he was hard-faced. After some inevitable conversations, we all got to know each other as much as we would allow. Keeping each other safe can do that. Joel found out I was in my mid-twenties and he stopped treating me like a child, almost. He was quicker to give me a gun as opposed to Ellie—which, best believe, she gave him shit about—however, Joel just explained it was because I was older. I also thought it was because he realized quickly that I was pretty good with it too. However, he still hardly looked at me in anyway, let alone that way, and I blamed some of that on my age.
Joel also dealt with my presence, because Ellie had someone else to share her jokes with. I was also the one that kept Ellie curious, giving her random facts about things as well as knowing how certain things worked that Joel couldn't explain. He might have even smiled a few times because of me. That was something to gloat about.
It took a bit for him to warm up to me, but long nights on watch, sleeping in the same place a majority of the time to let Ellie have the bed if there was one, both made it hard not to speak. When we really started talking, I could see that he would enjoy other conversations with me. I was older than Ellie, and I knew about some of the music and movies Joel grew up with. If I hadn't seen the movie, he'd explain the plot to me loosely. One night I told him I've only ever seen The Emperor Strikes Back out of the Star Wars movies. Ellie had never seen any of them, but she was ecstatic to listen to Joel explain the premise of the movies about space and cool aliens.
Star Wars was easy to get her in to. Over about the month trip, I taught her about Fleetwood Mac too. The songs didn't really get her attention too much, mostly because I was only really humming a lot of it, but she really got into all the drama that happened in the band. Joel didn't ever comment on it until one night, he finally just asked, "how do you know all of this? This stuff was happening before you were born." I couldn't help but laugh as I closed my eyes. "Reading, Joel. Magazines are still pretty easy to find."
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When we made it to Jackson, Wyoming, the welcome was about as warm as the weather. Guns aimed straight at our heads. Joel and I both knew we would pass the test with the dog, but Ellie... I could feel my heart pounding, until I heard the sweet little girl's giggles as the dog gave her kisses. Joel mentioned we were out looking for his brother and one woman just seemed to know exactly who it was.
Joel got to reunite with his brother, which was sweet, and luckily that connection got us a nice house across from theirs. Joel let Ellie and I get the first showers. Maria gave us shampoos and conditioners, body wash and even some lotion for after the shower. I was faster than Ellie, and I came out with damp hair and the new, clean clothes that were just a bit too big for me. I looked up and I just saw Joel's face kind of soften when he looked at me. It felt like he was really taking me in for the first time. I really don't think he's seen me freshly clean. Sure we got river water here and there, but now I was clean, smelled good, and I felt like I could just sit back and relax. "I saved you some hot water. I didn't trust Ellie to." I told him with a little smile. He didn't even get a chance before Ellie came into the living room.
"Jesus Christ, I'm probably fucking bald. So much hair came out. Is that normal?" She asked me. I took a look at her head and she definitely wasn't bald.
"Not bald, honey. It just happens when you wash your hair after a long while." I assured her.
Honey. Joel liked it when I called her that. His face didn't change much, but he looked down at his lap for a moment, taking in a sweet, almost domesticated moment for the three of us.
"Now you need to get a bath, because you smell awful." Ellie told him, grinning widely and he only had a half smirk and rolled his eyes before he got up from his seat.
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The first week of being in Jackson consisted of lots of rest, and lots and lots of food. Both of which we hadn't been used to in a really long while, so much that this felt like a fairytale. I was waiting on the moment I would wake up. Maria and Tommy let us have a few days to ourselves to sleep. We really didn't have to worry about anything sneaking up on us. Joel tried staying up late that first night, but he found himself in his bed, after obsessively making sure all the windows and doors were locked, he was asleep for well over fifteen hours. He was so exhausted.
During those few days of having three meals a day, and occasionally seconds, I noticed Joel was looking a little more fuller, as was Ellie. It made my heart swell that they were both getting healthy again, and we weren't living off of scraps essentially. I had a feeling I was really going to like it here.
At the end of the week, Maria suggested we all have dinner as a "family" since the first meal on our first day didn't go as well as I wanted it to. Honestly, I was pretty convinced she had the wrong idea about me and Joel. We had only talked briefly the day we arrived when she gave us the clothes and supplies and she let me know our house was stocked with everything we needed. In my clothes, Maria had graciously gifted me. Ellie snatched out the small, lace lingerie bottoms and her jaw was dropped. "Ew! What the fuck is this even covering, dude! Do girls really wear this?" Ellie scoffed at the ancient artifact at this point, Victoria's Secret lingerie. I could never wear those now.
I had to give Ellie a little pep talk (I actually pleaded) for her to say nicer things at the table. Just try to at least, and she seemed very serious about it. She actually did well for the most part. When she started to slip up and say a curse word, if it hadn't came fully out, she just switched it up. If it did slip out fully, she just gave a wide eyed look at the table, before glancing at me and I just gave her a secret little "it's okay" to make sure she didn't stress about it too bad.
After dinner was over, it was obvious that Joel and Tommy were still having a bit of fun so there wasn't much of a push to leave. I didn't think I'd ever seen him this happy, but he was also a few glasses in. Maria mentioned we move to the back porch to have a fire going, since the living room had become overwhelming quickly. We could actually have a fire now. That was new, but I would enjoy that heat as much as I could.
It was a night of the Miller brothers easily bantering about who could shoot the furthest, and Joel just let Tommy have that, being the selflessly older brother type. He didn't care too much to have the title, but he knew Tommy was full of shit. "Nah, Joel's good at stuff too. Fantastic carpenter in the day. Decent guitar player. Has he played guitar for you yet?" Tommy asked, motioning over to me and Ellie.
"Yeah, totally, whenever we find a working guitar in the woods trying to get across country." I responded sarcastically, making every everyone laugh a bit. I took the chance to see the him laugh. It was honestly more like a giggle. Tommy must've had something stronger than the watered down shit he got from the QZ. Or Joel knew this was a place where he knew he could indulge a little more now. Either way, I just relished in the sight of how happy he looked.
"Well lucky for y'all, I actually found one. Months ago. I sure as hell dunno how to play it, but I liked having it around. Gave me a little piece of my brother." He mentioned with a sappy smile before he got up and went to grab it. He came back with it, and it was honestly in good shape. "Think you can still play?" Tommy asked Joel, holding the guitar out to him by the neck until he took it. "S'been a while since I've heard live music. Not sure anyone around here as a musical bone in their body." He added before he took his seat again.
Joel held the guitar in his lap, trying to find the right positioning in. Once he found it, he easily slipped back into it. "Well, you're not gonna get much. I'm pretty rusty, I'd say." Joel told Tommy when he cleared his throat, just giving a prompt warning not to expect anything crazy.
"Thought you wanted to be a singer, man?" Ellie asked him, always giving him a hard time, but that was how these two bonded. I had never seen such a thing, but it was so sweet. Even the way Joel gave her a scowl back made me smile. "Good thing you can though." Ellie mentioned. The little mastermind knew about my crush on Joel, after so much interrogation, of course. I wasn't going to just give it up until she pulled out all the times she's caught my "longing stares" at him in any situation. I didn't feel like it was a bad thing, the staring. It was better than my other option. Confessing how much I cared for this handsome man that happened to be double my age, and then having to be rejected. That would've made traveling a hell of a lot harder. I was convinced he didn't see me that way. He had said it once before—Ellie and I were only cargo.
Joel glanced up at me when Ellie mentioned I could sing. He just spent a whole month walking across the country, protecting each other, killing for each other. We had all seen each other at our lowest, yet he didn't know I could sing? Not that it was his fault necessarily. I only did it a couple times when I was explaining how Fleetwood Mac songs sounded like to Ellie, mostly while he was asleep. I was too shy to do it otherwise. "You can?" He asked and I felt everyone's eyes on me.
Luckily the orange light from the fire completely give away how bad I was blushing. "A little—not much. I only remember one acoustic song and it's "Landslide"... by Fleetwood Mac." I cleared my throat, giving a side eye to Ellie for getting me into this mess.
"You know how to play that one! After Sarah forced yo—" He cut himself once he consciously knew the name that slipped out of his mouth in the moment. It got quiet. Ellie and I were so aware of how we were not supposed to bring her up. It was an unspoken rule at that point.
Joel only looked at his brother for a moment before looking away and he nodded his head. "I do know how to play it." He finally responded with a little nod. "Practiced so much, it's muscle memory." His lips curved up just enough, barely giving him a little smile. It said what it needed to. Sarah had made him learn how to play it for whatever reason, and it was a memory he almost forgot about.
He started strumming the song after tuning a few bum strings and Ellie nudged me to make sure I was going to sing the lyrics. She was so excited. I could do it for her.
It was a very surreal experience, singing a song about the changes and challenges of life, especially in a post-apocalyptic world, where each one of us had lost people, lost ourselves. At one point I could see a tear fall down Maria's face but I had to focus my eyes elsewhere not to start crying myself. The song ended and this time, it was Joel that had the longing stare as he slipped the instrument out of his lap. Ellie caught it and she got a little twinkle in her eye, having an idea that her plan was falling into place. This could be the start of her very own real family.
After that, once Tommy checked the time, he knew he should probably be getting to bed because he had work tomorrow. He told his older brother to come on out so he could show him a few things. We were going to have to work as long as we were here, however long that may be, but it wasn't bad. We've had way worse. "Oh! Before you go!" Maria said and I raised my eyebrows a little, Ellie standing close by and Joel was already at the front door. Maria hurried back with a CD and The Very Best of Fleetwood Mac was printed on the top. "Go ahead and learn a few more songs. Keep the music alive, and the joy that comes with it. There will be more where that's coming from." She told me and Ellie looked wide eyed at the CD. It had all the songs I was telling her about.
"Thank you so much." I told her softly, taking her in for a hug. Joel watched me hug her and smiled a bit again. He knew I was full of love, even after all of these years. i could find love for anything, the moon. the clouds in the sky, colorful weeds that lined the roads we walked to get there. That scared him. He didn't know if he was worthy of it, after everything he's done. He knew I would be able to love him. He did make a mental note to try and maybe flirt back to test the waters with me, see if I was serious—even though I was every single time I made a slightly flirty comment.
"Hey, do you guys have any of the Star Wars movies by chance?" Ellie asked Maria curiously, breaking a soft moment. She figured if they had Fleetwood Mac, they could possibly have the movies she wanted to see so badly.
"We have all of them, episodes one and two, and four through six. Which one were you wanting to watch?" Maria raised her eyebrow a little with a smirk when Ellie squealed.
"All of them! Please!" Ellie bounced a bit and I couldn't help but smile wider. "Hear that Joel? We're gonna be watching all of the Star Wars movies!" She turned back to him, just to make sure he was as excited as she was about it, but this was excited Joel for the most part.
"Sure, Ellie. But I'm not watching them all in one night. They're pretty long movies. I'm too old for all that." He told her, letting her follow him back over to the house across the street with his arm obnoxiously draped over her head.
"Thank you, again. And just drop off the movies whenever you can. She's gonna go crazy." I laughed a bit as I walked out the door.
"We will. Take care of him, alright? Well, both of 'em. But let him know it's okay to loosen up a little around here." Tommy told me as I walked down the steps. After tonight, it was obvious to him that I was something a little more special to his brother, even if no one else could see it. Tommy caught all the little glances he never thought he'd see Joel give again. I had a power over you that I would probably never know the extent of. Tommy knew he was going to give Joel hell tomorrow though. He didn't know why Joel hadn't already made a move.
"I will take care of them!" I waved to them as I made it out to the street, getting across to my new home. Tommy and Maria made sure I made it inside safely before closing their door as well.
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Once I was in my bed for the night, in clean clothes, under an actual duvet and an actual pillow, I was so close to sleep. I had fallen asleep so quickly in the last week. Just as I could feel myself drifting off, I heard my door creak open.
"Darlin'? You awake?" I heard Joel's deep southern accent say in the dark. I could barely make his outline out in the doorway, sure enough he couldn't see my eyes well enough to know if I was still awake or not.
"Yeah, I'm still awake." I partly lie. I hadn't been quite at that point yet, but I'm pretty sure him calling me darling would've woken me out of anything. It only happened a few times, and each time he's said it, it's just felt like an accident, like it just slipped out. This time, though, that felt real. "What's up?"
It took him a minute to answer, like he was actively trying to think of what to say, like he hadn't been rehearsing it. I would've paid good money to get a look of the expression his face held right now. "I, uh, was wonderin' if you'd come to my room, to sleep? Got kinda used to having you at my side at night. This last week sleepin' in'a different room, it's been..." it was like he was trying to find the right words to say, so he didn't sound like an idiot at my door.
Little did he know, explaining himself wasn't needed. I was already getting out of bed hugging my pillow, and I slipped by him in the doorway, headed to his room. He was kind of stunned, like he was surprised his pathetic attempt worked. "Well, c'mon cowboy. I'm ready for bed." I ushered him before walking into his room.
He had his girl safe in bed down the hall, and his girl waiting on him to get in bed. Maybe this was a great place for him.
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iris0-0 · 2 months
Text
I promise I’m here.
Mom!Tess Servopoulos x sh!daughter reader
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Synopsis: Tess, your mother has always given you tough love. Trying to raise you to be respectful and grateful. Though when hard times fall upon you, you cannot seem to tell your mother as you feel she will see you as weak and pathetic.
Warnings: Tess being soft, reader is referred to in more female pronouns, blood, mentions of depression, mentions and descriptions of self harm, I do not encourage this behavior and am here for anyone <3 this is definitely not personal
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Familiar sounding music invaded the current deep sleep you were in. Eyes fluttering open, before quickly closing them due to the early morning light invading through the blinds.
The door opens and you feel a harsh pat on your back, “Cmon kid, gotta catch the bus.” Tess says, making sure you’re awake before leaving the room.
Getting up you looked at the old digital clock on the nightstand that read 6:40 a.m. Fuck. If you didn’t pick up the pace there would be another tardy slip with your name on it, and with that a scold from your mother.
Grabbing whatever pants were on the desk chair and a shirt you grab the same black zip-up jacket you took everyday…to hide the scars. Thankfully your mother Tess wasn’t very noisy as long as you didn’t give any “teenage attitude” was what she liked to call it. So she never really picked up on your habits
Self-harm wasn’t something you were proud of. It started 3 years ago when you were 13. Middle school was an absolute bitch, not to mention the other struggles that have happened in the meantime. You tried to get clean….but it never lasted long, it was a tough battle.
Slipping on the jacket and grabbing your book bag you go down the stairs to grab a banana or some shit to say you ate breakfast. Tess was brewing a cup of coffee before she herself was off to work. She eyed you up and down a bit before smirking to herself. Annoyed you give her a look that basically said ‘what?’.
“When’s the last time you washed that jacket?” She asked. “You were it practically everyday.” Walking towards you she tried to get closer to at least make sure it smelled clean, as teenagers could be lazy or dirty sometimes.
Not wanting her to move the jacket in case of any risk of exposing what was below you responded in a bantering manner to try and keep up your cool act. “Mom! Stop it! I washed it this week.” You smile dodging her grasp and walking to the door to catch the bus.
“If you say so.” She shrugs. “Go learn and shit.”
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School. Highschool sophomore to be specific. Grades weren’t that much of a problem, you were told you were ‘a smart kid’. Having average level classes and a work ethic (sometimes) helped. It wasn’t the work, it was the people.
Once again for English there was a project. Why do English teachers have a project nobody likes every week? Everyone got up and looked around to choose partners…nobody chose you. Shocker. ‘Okay, who cares? I’ll do it myself as usual.’ You thought.
But of course it wasn’t okay. Depression shuffled your mind again replaying old scenarios and listing reasons why none of the other kids wanted to work with you.
Putting headphones on and shuffling random shit, mainly tv girl you got to work and try to forget but to no avail. Taking a break in the middle to go to the bathroom.
Always keeping a blade handy you sit in the bathroom stall. ‘Why am I doing this again? Don’t really know don’t really care.’ You think.
Taking the jacket off halfway the view of the old and fresh marks come into place. It was never enough. Addicted was the word, but it’s perfectly fine isn’t it?
‘Doing what I do best.’ Sliding the blade like it was a damn hobby. Did it sting? Maybe a little but the relief was too strong, it overpowered any pain. That was, until you zoned out. Going deeper, was it intentional? Who knows.
Hitting a vein blood trickled down, quicker than the cuts before that would stop bleeding soon. There was too much. And of course depression comes with anxiety. How come you were fine mutilating yourself but the moment you got dizzy all hell broke loose. I need to get out.
Quickly thinking of an excuse out of habit you called the only person you had, your mom. Were you dying of blood loss? Hell no. But you were on the verge of passing out and eating shit on the schools bathroom floor.
The phone rang a few times.
“Please..please..please.” You mutter.
T: “Hello? Im in a meeting did you butt dial me again?” Your mom Tess says, a bit confused.
“I need you to pick me up, please.”
T: “Kid, I’m in the middle of a meeting.” She sighs, though she hears the panic in your voice. “If it means that much to ya I’ll getchu right after, in maybe half an hour?”
“Okay.” You respond swallowing your tears.
T: “You cryin kid?” She asks suddenly concerned.
“No.” You deny, and you can hear her sigh from the other end.
T: “I’ll get you in a bit.” She said sternly.
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿
About a half an hour passed. The bleeding was under control but you were weak as hell. Loosing blood was no joke, dizzy and nauseating to say the least. ‘I think I just lost more blood than a period.’ You thought.
A text from your mom saying she’s here and you signed out at the front office, slightly swaying in your steps as you walk the short walk from the front of the school to the car.
Tess was sitting, hand on the steering wheel. The glint from the sun shining just over the scar under her eye. You couldn’t read her face. Was she pissed about picking you up two hours into the school day and about you interrupting her meeting. Regardless you opened the car door.
“Thank you.” Was the only thing spoken and Tess nodded to the action keeping her eyes forward as she drove the two of you home.
Walking in the house Tess put up her keys. You tried to sneak upstairs. “Nope. Come back.” Tess said sternly before pointing to the couch. “Sit.”
Annoyed but not trying to test your mother, you sat your ass back down. “Tell me why I picked you up.” She asked and you just shrugged looking at the floor.
“That’s not an answer and you know it. I love you and I’m trying not to be upset with you but kid, I need to know. You called me in the middle of a meeting you knew I was in crying.” Tess said, a bit stern.
“It doesn’t even matter.” You say a bit annoyed at the persistence and not having an answer to the question that you wanted to tell her.
“Look at me.” She says, as you look straight at the ground. “I just didn’t feel good.” You say looking her in the eye, it was hard. She had the type of eyes that made you spill everything.
Staring felt like forever her eyes narrowing, until your left eye twitched. “You’re lying.” She says crossing her arms over her chest. “No I’m not.” Your eye twitches again, betraying you.
“Yes you are! Your eye is twitching like Nemo’s fucking special fin.” Tess responded. “How the hell would you even know if I was lying? You’re always gone!”
“Language! I’m gone providing for you!” The two of you yelled back and forth for ages. Slowly but surely you were growing enraged. Having bipolar disorder and anger issues Tess knew you needed to calm down before you passed out.
“Okay come on you need to calm down.” She says strictly but assuringly. Even though she was upset with the argument as well she didn’t want it to get worse with you passing out for continuing to dig your nails into your arms.
She took ahold of your shoulders and began to guide you to your room. And shortly after being alone you’d calm down and she’d come back and the two of you would talk it out.
But…that did not happen this time. As she tried to move you, you resisted. “Hey stop. Calm down.” She said trying to grab your arms as you tried to get out her reach. With the fresh cuts and the excessive deep one a whine of pain was let out.
Tess paused momentarily and debated on backing off, but she didn’t. You had been acting different and were on the verge of a panic attack.
With harsh short breaths through go your nose you knew there was nothing else you could do to hide anymore, you were too weak. “What’s hurtin’ hm?” Tess states touching your hands, shoulders, and head gently.
But when she glides over your arms you bit your lip. Razor burn was hitting hard. “Okay let’s get this off..” she mumbles slowly taking the jacket off after she sat you down on the couch.
“Oh honey…” was all Tess could say, staring at the cuts, scars, deep, and shallow. She tries to comfort you but too shaked up and overstimulated. “Okay okay.” Tess backs off, leaving for a short moment to grab the random first aid crap in the bathroom.
She comes back and cleans very carefully, trying not to upset or overstimulate you. As well as to not hurt you. “Breath baby.” She holds your face softly trying to calm you down.
After awhile the cleaning and wrapping is done. It was safe to say Tess could understand why. You had bad bipolar disorder and meltdowns. “Why didn’t you tell me hm?” She asks sitting next to you.
“Cause I didn’t want to worry you and give you more trouble cause it started when dad left and-“ You couldn’t finish beginning to sob.
She pulls you into her tightly and holds you. Quietly shh’ing you, cradling you like a baby. “I’m here I’m not going anywhere. I’m not him.”
Tess holds onto you as you fall asleep. And she’ll always be there for you.
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿
THIS TOOK FOREVER OVER A WEEK I GOT STUCK. Anyways happy birthday to me <3 Love you stay safe.
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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months
Note
Also to mention for that anon thinking it’s an extreme thing to take Bambi, what do you think would have happened had alba not picked Bambi up from school? They would have called social services. Like how can a parent not only forget their child at school but then not notice or care where they are all night. Alexia assumes alba is drunk at her house and doesn’t even consider hey where is my other child. She completely removed her from her mind and couldn’t have possibly thought oh maybe my DAUGHTER is with her aunt but nope Alba must be drunk and here to sober up. It would be different if she saw alba saw her upset and went oh shit I forgot I’m so sorry but she didn’t she didn’t even think of her. Which confirms to alba that this has to be going on for a while cause you don’t just forget your kid like that once. Also adds the questions of is Bambi being physically cared for PROPERLY like sure she’s getting basic needs met but is she eating enough, is she getting help to bath, are they making sure her teeth are brushed or she’s sleeping well. All questions that are for sure running through albas mind at that point. And all things nursery would have picked up on quicker had she been attending regularly. Which is also kind of negligent at that age nursery is so good for kids to get interaction with kids their own age and to jump start learning but keeping her from that for their convenience is also neglectful. Sorry this is so long just reading what you shared woke up so much in my own mind about this.
Don't apologise.
All of this is so perfect ❤️
If the nursery hadn't been able to get into contact with Alba then child services would definitely have gotten involved and Bambi would have definitely been removed from Alexia's care officially and with official services like that, there's always a chance that she would never actually get Bambi back
Another thing I really liked that you picked up was Alexia's reaction to Alba. She thought she was drunk. You're right, there was no thought of Bambi whatsoever and it's definitely one of those things that just solidifies Alba's need to get Bambi out of there.
You're so right on the physical neglect thing too. Alba has no way of knowing if this is purely emotional or if it's gone into physical aspects like Bambi's food intake or her hygiene. I mentioned it in my post earlier but failure to thrive is actually one of the massive risks of emotional neglect for a number of reasons. The first one, of course, is what was said above about Bambi potentially not being able to eat well but depression can also lead to Bambi not wanting to eat.
Failure to thrive is a massive risk and one that not a lot of people actually think about when discussing emotional neglect and while Alba may not know the official term, these kinds of things definitely run through her mind about Bambi staying at home.
The nursery thing is so true too. A lot of parents that can afford for someone to stay home often see nursery as unneeded or a waste of money but it's actually so key in development.
I think I read a study once about how kids who went to nursery find it easier to form positive relationships with their peers by the time they go to school than those who stayed home. I think that was the gist of it but it was definitely something about nursey educated kids having a bit more of a social advantage than those that didn't.
Bambi is already painfully shy. She's a little sweetheart and nursery could actually be super beneficial for her but she rarely attends and the one time she actually does, she gets forgotten about. It's very easy for kids to make associations between places and the events that take places in them. For Bambi it's:
Nursery = being forgotten = waiting for hours = sad and depressed
Everything you wrote is just so perfect and it gave me another opportunity to blab about child development again ❤️
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nat20potato · 1 year
Text
DIALOGUE DRABBLE
Summary: Xenk and Edgin gets separated from the rest of the party while running from trouble, and Edgin sprains his ankle.
Rating: G
Pairings: Mild Edgin Darvis/Xenk Yendar
"I'm fine, I'm fine, stop fussing."
"You are clearly not fine, as evident by the limp that you are unsuccessfully hiding-,"
"Well maybe I'll be able to hide it better if you pick up the pace, we don't know how far back we've lost them and Simon won't be able to hide our tracks for too long-,"
"The currents are strong and the river is deep; were you to slip and fall it will delay our journey all that much further. If you would simply allow me to-,"
"Don't, Xenk, please, you only have so much energy and I need you to keep it until after we meet back up with Holga and Kira and we see how bad her wounds are. I'm sorry for slowing us down but I promise I'm trying, ok?"
"I understand your reticence, but that is not what I was about to offer. Climb on my back."
"...Ex-fucking-scuse me?"
"It is not an offer of intercourse."
"No, I fucking-got that-you want me to climb on your back? While in a river?"
"We are stationed by large enough croppings of stone that provide enough respite of the currents and a boost, should you need it, there is no better station of security in current conditions."
"Xenk, I'm 200 pounds and change bone dry, and I have-have stuff on my own back. My lute."
"My circumstances and training have allowed me strength to carry heavier burdens for longer periods, and it is a practical solution in our dire conditions. Hurry."
"Xenk, you're wearing armor."
"Edgin. Please."
"Shit. Fuck. Fine. Hold my lute. Hold still. Ow. Oh shit that's the ankle-,"
"I apologize-,"
"Don't. Any more and my pride might not survive."
"It is not my intention to wound you or your dignity any further-,"
"I know, I know bud, keep walking, yeah? I appreciate it, I do, but let's keep this to ourselves when we meet up with the others."
"Our hands would not have been forced were I less careless in our previous battle, and I would have had enough energy to heal both you and your daughter-,"
"Don't do that, Xenk, you held off a whole tribe of bandits on your own, saved Simon's life, you can't save everyone."
"I am not well-versed...it has been. A while since I have quested for long periods with company...besides myself."
"See? Not your fault. Wow, you are REALLY not straining at all. Little bit further."
"I would like to apologize; were I quicker to take to travelling with company, with others, perhaps I would be less inclined to selfishness-,"
"Prioritzing your own health and well being in the middle of battle isn't selfishness, Xenk, and we need you at your best anyway, you couldn't have known Kira was gonna be struck down like that. But forgiven, ok? Forgotten. No harm done."
"Some harm had been inflicted."
"Not by you, even indirectly. Besides, if practice travelling with company's the problem, there's an easy solution for that."
"...you would offer me a place in your family? Still, after my mistakes?"
"We've literally just had the conversation about how you didn't do anything wrong, but yeah. Of course. Kira loves you. Always good to have another competent fighter in the bunch. Truth be told we're probably the ones getting the better end of the deal if you do."
"I disagree. The love, care and camaraderie you share between yourselves is a connection found few and far in between, even amongst fellow adventurers. You hide not your affections and love amongst those you take under your wing, Edgin Darvis, and I would be...honored, to be amongst those you have come to accept as kin."
"It's not...that deep. Whatever. Dry land! Thank God. Oh ow. Ow. Ok, you know what-,"
"Perhaps it is more prudent for me to carry you a little bit rest of the way until we find a safer place of rest."
"Great! Good idea-only if you can carry-,"
"It is no trouble; you are lighter than you assume yourself to be."
"Ouch."
"Have I troubled your injury?"
"Only the one on my pride."
"Rest assured I will set you down before we reach our encampment."
"Appreciate it buddy. 'Least that means I'm losing the beer gut."
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9r7g5h · 7 months
Text
The Only Acceptable Miscommunication Trope
Fandom: My Hero Academia, Boku no Hero Academia 
Rating: T
Genre: Humor
Summary: When Katsuki opened his locker, he had expected three things - his water bottle, his towel, and the change of clothes he had brought so he wouldn’t have to wear the soaked gym outfit back to the dorms.
He hadn’t expected the bright pink letter, signed and sealed with a heart shaped sticker.
Words: 2,766
When Katsuki opened his locker, he had expected three things - his water bottle, his towel, and the change of clothes he had brought so he wouldn’t have to wear the soaked gym outfit back to the dorms. That was what he had put in the locker when Shitty Hair and Dunce Face had dragged him out this morning to train, so it made a passing bit of sense for him to expect the same.
He hadn’t expected the bright pink letter, signed and sealed with a heart shaped sticker, his name written in, admittedly, beautiful calligraphy on the front. He hadn’t even noticed it at first, the letter flopping to the ground as he pulled the towel free, too caught up in his argument to pay attention. It wasn’t like he did this kind of shit anyway, so if he had been the one to notice it first, most likely it would have still ended up on the ground, just this time in the form of ashes instead of whole.
Sadly, it was Kaminari who made the discovery first, his shit eating grin more than enough to justify the dodged blast Katsuki sent his way.
“Whoa, is that a love letter? Someone’s actually got the guts to try and confess to our Blasty here?” He swooped in, a well placed jolt enough to make Katsuki jump so he could swipe it from the ground. He held it high enough so Kirishima could see, wiping away a fake tear. “I’m so proud, our boy might finally get laid.”
“Like you can talk, dipshit.” It didn’t take much to get the letter back, Kirishima just laughing as he watched Kaminari wipe the soot from his face. “We all know you’re as close to getting your dick wet as the grape is; at least I’m not as pathetic as you two are.” A sheepish grin his only response, Katsuki just rolled his eyes and crumpled the letter in his hand, sparks playing across his free palm. The quicker he burned this, the quicker he could get back to cleaning up and get back to the dorm, leaving this nonsense behind.
“Whoa, Bakubro, what the heck! You’re not even gonna read it? Not manly, dude.” Again, he found the letter in someone else’s grasp, this time his explosion ineffective as Kirishima just quirked up, his skin as hard as his frown as he held the letter safely behind his back. His growl ignored, Kirishima carefully flattened the letter, using his hardened fingers to try and smooth out as much of the damage as he could. “You should at least see who it’s from and give them an answer, bro. It’s only right.”
“If the extra knew me at all, they’d know this was coming. I don’t do this kind of shit.”
Because he was too busy training or studying and thus had literally no time for a relationship; because he would only date the best and there was no way in hell anyway so gutless they had to resort to some anonymous letter would ever measure up; because he had to spend his precious free time keeping that damn nerd alive and figuring out his quirk (and if that was just an excuse to stay close, to slightly soothe the ache in his chest that was his own damn fault, well, fuck off); take your pick. Katsuki Bakugou didn’t do this kind of shit, all for good reasons.
All the reasons Kirishima, as the only person in this damn school that had managed to wiggle his way in and force down his defenses that wasn't too bright and green to look at on a regular basis, knew and knew well. Entertaining that love letter would do no one any good, and if he was just helping some poor extra get over him and move on without having to deal with a dozen awkward confessions a week? Bonus points.
“You never know, Bakubro,” Kaminari joined, throwing an arm over Katsuki’s shoulders, “your current plan of never addressing anything and just exploding it doesn’t seem to be working. Maybe doing an actual meet-and-greet will let you tell them you’re not interested, and the word will spread. People can only stay interested in someone emotionally unavailable for so long before they get bored and move on. Well, most people.” He dodged the half-hearted swat, laughing easily. “Trying it once can’t hurt!”
And maybe occasionally, when the fates collided and his two brain cells rubbed together, Kaminari actually had a good idea, because he knew how the rumor mill worked. Mina was one of the core members, as much as he hated that shit, and if it got around that this crap wouldn’t work on him...
“Fine,” Katsuki spat. “Give me the damn letter. But don’t expect me to be polite to the extra face to face. The fact that I’m even looking at this is good enough.” The others didn’t argue, knowing if they did it would only distract the blonde from tearing apart the envelope. Together the three crowded together, skimming the crinkled letter to see who it was trying to catch Katsuki’s eye.
I would like to confess to you in person, like a hero should. Please meet me at the grove of trees near the eastern open training ground, the one closest to the gates, today at four. I’ll be waiting.
~D
As one the trio looked towards the clock that hung over the locker room doors, glancing between themselves with the knowledge that, were Katsuki to do this, he only had fifteen minutes to wait. They all knew which grove the letter meant - it was a public, popular enough confession spot, the shade and perpetual cool breeze making it perfect for waiting for people. Almost always had some sort of eyes on it, waiting for someone to say something and start up the gossip.
Perfect.
Katsuki tossed his shit back into his locker, ignoring the surprised yelps from the peanut gallery as he turned on his heels towards the door. Kirishima hardened just in time to take another well aimed blast, the force just enough to push him out of the way of the door.
"Whoa, wait, you're going like that? You aren't even going to, you know, wipe down and change? Kiri and me went pretty hard on you, and-"
"As if, idiots," Katsuki snorted, like the idea his friends had actually been a challenge was amusing. Even if the soaked gym clothes told a different story. With Kirishima to hold him off and Kaminari to shoot long range attacks, they were a pretty effective team. "The letter was in my damn gym locker, while I was training, with no guarantee that I would see it before the meeting time passed. This extra wants to do this, they're getting me like this. Maybe they'll actually think next time."
With twin shrugs the other two just followed, the three quickly making their way through the school. Thankfully there weren't many people to push their way through, the school day long since done, allowing them to make it well within the time allotted. Though as they reached the front door, instead of continuing on his path like he had intended, Katsuki instead glanced out the large window and froze, grabbing his two idiots to keep them from going on without him.
It only took a moment for them to follow his line of sight.
"Is that-"
"Dude, no way-"
"Both of you, shut up!"
Because of course. Of course it was fucking Deku, standing calmly beneath the trees as he played with his phone.
And the little shit nerd actually looked good for once. It was a well known fact that Izuku was, physically, probably one of the prettiest people on campus, and Katsuki would fight anyone who said otherwise. But his clothes left a lot to be desired; they were childish at best, tacky as shit at worst. But right now he looked good, actually looked like the proper almost adults they were, and it did things to Katsuki's heart and stomach and made him immediately regret coming as he was, his ratty gym clothes drying to his skin and the glycerin in his sweat that normally made him smell slightly sweet unable to cover the stink of exercised teenage boy.
"Is that..." Kaminari squinted his eyes for a moment, only to whistle as he turned back towards Katsuki. "He's even got some makeup and everything. Looks better then my get up too. He really wanted to look good for you, bro."
"Course he did," Katsuki snapped back, no heat in his reply. "Nerd never does anything in halves. Fuck, Kiri, I..."
Already his best friend was there, a steadying hand on his shoulder. It had taken Kiri forever to squirm his way in through Katsuki's defenses, but he'd long since earned the right to a good deal of Katsuki's secrets. Most of them concerning feelings and emotions and the shit he was bad at, and the rest concerning the boy standing under the trees outside. "You don't have to," Kirishima said slowly, "but this is your chance, Bakugou. That letter was pretty clear, so even if you decide not to, you at least know where you both stand and can do something later. But it must have taken a lot of nerves for him to be manly enough to write it out and follow through, so it might be nice if you met him on his timeline for once instead of yours."
Katsuki took a long, deep breath and held it, nodding as he slowly released the air from his lungs. Shitty Hair was always right, damn it, and even if a part of him wanted to run and hide and pretend he had never seen that stupid note, he wasn't going to. No, he was going to ignore the fact that he was a gross, sweaty, stinking post-workout mess and go give Deku the best acceptance of a love letter to ever be seen in the history of romance.
Because he was Katsuki Bakugou, damn it, and he was the best.
Izuku couldn't wait for the others to get there. He knew he was early, but when Iida had informed him that he had made dinner reservations to celebrate their group's two year "friend-iversary," he had been touched. Kacchan had been the only person he could have theoretically had something like a friend-iversary with, but the other boy was too disgusted with anything sappy and sentiment to think that was a good idea. Even though they had repaired their friendship from their falling out in middle school, he knew bringing up something like that would more than likely get him an explosion to the face, not a fancy dinner at some restaurant people were raving about.
So he hadn't even been insulted when Tsu, Ochako, and Todoroki had invaded his dorm, gone through his closet, and picked out his clothes, supplementing whatever he didn't have with things Todoroki brought with him that, with enough tucking and adjusting, just managed to fit. He'd even let Mina doll him up some, even if the goop on his face felt weird and his eyes felt tired, like he was ready for a nap. For sure not something he would do all the time, it was all too uncomfortable, but for a night out with his friends to celebrate something so special, he was willing to do it. Now he was just waiting, a couple minutes early, playing on his phone until his friends got there.
"Oi, Deku!"
For a moment Izuku was startled - had Kacchan been invited as well and no one had told him? Looking him over, though, it was clear the other boy was nowhere near restaurant ready; he probably needed something else. Sliding his phone into his pocket, Izuku smiled at his friend.
"Hey, Kacc-"
One hand on his hip, the other in his hair, fingers threading through curls to tug his face up towards Kacchan's, his back pressed hard against the tree he had been leaning against - Izuku had no clue what was going on, only that his greeting was cut off by Kacchan's lips meeting his own. He didn't know what to do with his mouth, his hands, his tongue, but it didn't seem to matter as Katsuki took and kept control of this surprise confession, pressing against the seam of his lips until Izuku allowed him entrance, awkwardly rubbing against each other in a perfect way that made them both groan.
And all too soon it was over, Kacchan pulling away, his gaze bleary as he licked some spit from his bottom lip. He slowly, almost reluctantly took his hands away, the one in his hair playing with a few curls first before losing complete contact, leaving the two of them just standing there, breathless, staring.
"Kacchan, wh-"
"If we're doing this, nerd, we're doing this right," Kacchan cut him off again, forcing some level of bravado into his voice, ignoring the still glazed look in his eyes. "Friday, I'll pick you up from your dorm at six. Don't be late or I'll blow up some of your merch." No real threat, the words almost teasing, as if the destruction of property was expected. All Izuku could do was nod, his lips brushing against the fingers he hadn't realized he had raised to touch his mouth.
"Yeah," he said, voice hoarse. Izuku swallowed, shook his head, and smiled. "Yeah, I'd like that, Kacchan. I'll see you at six."
His smile real, nothing like the cocky smirk he normally wore, Kacchan turned away and ran back towards the front doors of the school. Where, if Izuku was seeing properly, Kaminari and Kirishima were jumping around in front of the giant windows that flanked the doors, yelling at and hugging each other, at least until Kacchan rejoined them, his smile not changing as he yelled at them. Whatever he said didn't seem to phase them as the two jumped on him, laughing as he was buried under the group hug.
His face red, idly wondering if perhaps one of the former holders of One for All had a blushing quirk, Izuku pulled back out his phone to send a text to his friends. They would be here any minute now, and he could always tell them in person, but better to get it out now before someone in the gossip chain got it out first. Ochako would kill him if she heard second hand.
Why Kacchan decided to do it in such a public place, well known for being watched, he'd never know.
I think I have a boyfriend now?
*~*
Standing on the second floor of the building, first year support student Dairoji sobbed as his friends comforted him. They had all told him it was a bad idea, that the upperclassman Bakugou had never responded to a love confession before, but Dairoji had insisted it would be different.
"He called me 'D'," Dairoji had said happily, sealing the letter. "You only give nicknames to people you like! He'll respond to me, I just know it."
Of course, Dairoji had ignored the fact that the rest of them had been "Extras" A, B, and C, and the 'D' Dairoji had been so fixated on had just been a coincidence. It had taken everything they could to convince him to wait on the second floor, to make sure he actually showed up before waiting outside for who knows how long.
A good idea, they all agreed, as they comforted their sobbing friend.
"I never would have given him that letter if I knew he had a boyfriend," Dairoji sobbed. "I'm so embarrassed! What if he looks at me and thinks I'm a pervert who goes after taken men? I'll never get to work with heroes again, and I'll never get into an agency and my equipment will rust and I'll have to start making toys for kids and I don't even like kids and-"
"Remember when we told you Bakugou's never responded to a love confession," one of his friends cut in, trying to head off the spiral before it sunk any lower. "Rumor has it he just burns them, or throws them away. Now we know why. He probably never even saw it, and he'll never know it was you, ok?"
Blinking away the tears of a broken heart and embarrassment, Dairoji looked up at his group, hope slightly lifting his spirits.
"You really think so?"
"Of course, Dairoji. The letter is in ashes, I promise."
[END]
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Post Date: 23rd October 2022 Content: Smut Word Count: 679 TW?: Breath Play/ Choking/ Teasing/ Penetration/ Experimental/ Daddy  ~
Kinktober Masterlist                                     Prompt List If you like my stuff and wanna tip, just buy me a coffee!
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It’s not like it was the first time that you’ve had sex, and not that you could complain when you did, Seungmin knew how to please you and reach all of your needs with exceeding expectations. It was just that there was room to experiment, and you were going to try your luck with him the minute things got heated.
“Fuck-” Seungmin moans against your lips as he gently thrusts into you, making sure that you felt everything of him, the way his shaft moved in and out of you.
A whimper falls from your lips as his hips gently meet the back of your thighs as he had your legs over your shoulder, a new position for you both that he’d shyly requested originally but now seems to be a new favourite. 
The way he filled you up in this position made your mind race with so many thoughts until it goes blank and stars appear in your eyes, trying to snap yourself out of it before you come quicker than you wanted to.
“Shit-” you hiss the minute his tip touches the top of your walls, tightening around him as he whimpers, “Keep doing that and I’ll cum so soon”.
Your eyes meet when gazing at this face as it screws in satisfaction to your wet walls tightly pulsating around him, and now was the time to ask him to try something new, you thought. 
“Minnie-” you whimper as his hips mould against your skin, you barely get a response but the faint “mhm” was loud enough for you to continue if you managed to focus on finding the words.
“Choke me,” the words fell off your tongue a bit too effortlessly for your liking as his eyes widen, and you hope you didn’t just put him off.
“Choke- Choke you?” He asks, still keeping his pace as you grasp at the sheets under you, “Please,” you whimper in response as you could tell he was considering it.
To your surprise, he wasn’t going to protest as his warm and clammy hands spread around your throat, fingers tightening at the edges. You lose your breath momentarily before he loosens up his grip, satisfied at your reaction when your eyes roll back and a loud moan escapes your lips, gasping for more air the minute you could.
You felt your stomach tighten at the satisfaction, needing more, you grab his wrist, pressing it more against your neck gently as he gets the hint, picking up his pace for the time that his grip was tighter, slowing back down when he lets you breathe once again.
“This is going to be fun,” he teases, groaning at the way you tighten around him once again, your moans like music when you’re able to breathe to let them out, especially with the way that you whimpered his name.
It was at that moment when Seungmin realised that he could get used to this, use this to his advantage and you were in for such a surprise as his demeanour switches up so quickly.
“Look at you, turning into a little whore for me,” he whispers against your lips, his breath smelt so good as you breathed it in, seconds before gasping for air when he restricts you of it once again.
However this time, he wasn’t going to pace himself, the way he switched made you crumble, not expecting it from him but you were enjoying it so much, and probably a little too much as you felt the knot start to tighten.
“Fuck- Daddy-” you cry out unintentionally, as Seungmin just smiles at your pathetic little state under him, “Daddy, huh? Oh that’s something that’s definitely going to make me cum so much quicker,” he snarls, tightening his grip once again.
The minute the grip tightens around your throat for the last time, your orgasm explodes through you, your mind and vision going blank as his hips slam against your skin, stinging it as you breathlessly let out a scream, legs tightening as he fucks you roughly through your high. 
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liberacesghost · 1 year
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Day 6 -- Person A Knows Person B's Coffee Order
let's try that again! just wanna shout out @doctorsteths-fluffyfeb again, because i'm having a good time writing, but also having a good time reading. so if you're all not on that shit, get into it!!
warnings: cussing cause i literally cannot; mentions of them on a case but nothing graphic
pairing: hotch x reader sorta (use of y/n) they're not actually together and they don't actually get together, but you'll see
word count: 769
a/n: i know how super late i am pls forgive me <33
Coffee was the lifeblood of the BAU. The driving force that kept them going the long hours they had to work. The sweet nectar that fueled their bodies and minds.
And this coffee at the tiny mid-western precinct they were currently at fucking sucked. And that was putting it mildly. 
“I can’t do this. It’s been days and I need decent coffee in my system”, you say standing up. “I need a break anyway.”
The case was going…slow. Well, more accurately the team’s progress was going slow. The unsub was decidedly not slow. He was leaving a trail of bodies quicker than you could process the evidence. And yet, you were no closer to actually catching him. 
Frustrated by not only the lack of breaks in the case, but the added insult of shitty coffee was almost unbearable. 
“I’ll make a quick run - let me know what you all want”, you say to the room at large as you put on your coat, which includes Rossi, Derek, Spencer, and Emily. 
After getting their drinks all written down, you head to ask Hotch and JJ. You find them in an office that’s being repurposed for the BAU’s benefit. 
“Hey guys”, you say hanging onto the doorframe. “I’m going on a coffee run. Do you want anything?”
“Oh, tea would be amazing, thanks”, JJ says with a smile. 
Hotch nods and opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, you cut him off pointing a finger at him, “A large black coffee, no cream, 1 sugar. I know.” Then you’re out of the door before Hotch can do much more than nod again, quite uselessly. 
He’s staring into the space you just were, mouth slightly open. He didn’t think anybody paid attention to his usual order. He didn’t think you paid attention. He’d be an absolute liar if he said his heart didn’t clench almost painfully in his chest. The thought of someone listening and picking up on what he likes – well, not just somebody, but you. It’s enough to keep him from doing anything useful for a lot longer than he’d like to admit. Hoping beyond hope that his cheeks were not pinkening. 
It’s not until JJ pointedly coughs that Aaron is snapped out of it, head jerking towards the blonde. She gives him a knowing smirk, before going back to the notepad in front of her. Purposefully (and very professionally) not mentioning the coloring occurring on his face and his ears. 
Some time later, JJ has moved back to the conference room leaving Hotch alone in “his” office to scribble away at the endless reports. 
Lost in the writing and rewriting he’s felt he’s been constantly doing since he got here, he doesn’t hear footsteps approaching. It’s not until he hears the soft thud of the cardboard coffee cup on his desk, that he stops. He looks up to see you looking at him with a soft, almost shy smile. 
He looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time.
Your timid smile. The way your eyes meet his before quickly flitting away. Teeth worrying your bottom lip. 
How he never saw it before is absolutely beyond him.
“Here you go, boss”, you say softly. 
You both just stare at each other, restrained smiles on your faces. 
The seconds turn into minutes, before you shake your head as if you’re clearing your thoughts away like an etch-a-sketch. “I also got some snacks if you’d like”, thumb pointing over your shoulder. “They’re in the conference room.”
Aaron is too stunned to say or do anything. This sudden realization that maybe, just maybe, you could feel the same way as him is overwhelming. 
When he doesn’t respond, you give him a jerky nod of your head before turning around and making your way out the room. 
Hotch says your name so softly, you turn around quickly, almost in alarm. 
Remembering that they’re on an active case and he’s still the goddamn unit chief, he catches himself before he says something incredibly telling. 
“Thank you”, he says instead. 
You look at him, brows furrowing for a brief second, eyes roaming his face and posture for something. Something he left unsaid, something he was going to say, something you wanted him to say – you weren’t sure. So you simply look him in the eyes, a small almost smirk on your face, and give him a nod before making your way back to the conference room. Leaving Hotch in his makeshift office alone with the coffee you got him, the swirling thoughts inside his head, and the ache in his chest.
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nug-chuohku · 8 months
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Reflection of Your Image - EB VS SZ Drama Track 
Part 3
~ Clashing Skulls ~
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【 Outside Chuohku City Hotel 】
Ryuko: "-FUCKER!"
Balling his fists, the animator prepared to strike back at the incoming punch from the purple and green haired man. Before the two could collide however, their respective teammates clung to their limbs and clothes, pulling them apart.
Maki: “Ryuko, this is no place to raise your fists!”
Yano: “Y-Yeah Asato, what tall-ass said!”
While Ryuko seemed to struggle and writhe in the arms of his older brother, Asato was much quicker to calm down. Although his eyes conveyed a rage that neither Yano or Kensaku had seen, Asato appeared much more unbothered than the yakuza who wanted nothing more than to cave in the farmer’s face. The young man uncharacteristically brushed off his teammates as they loosened their grips, so Asato could stare at his raging rival.
Asato: “...You want a fight?”
Both ECO BooN men looked surprised at their leader as he pulled his hypnosis microphone out from the satchel that hung from his belt and held it out.
Asato: “Fight me. Use your words. Prove that you’re not a coward.”
Instantly those words it set off the white haired man as he miraculously snapped out of his giant brother's grasp and whipped out his own microphone. With a snarl Ryuko shouted out.
Ryuko: “I’ll show you who’s the real coward!”
Maki: “Ryuko, stop that this-”
Shuu: “Let him go sensei.”
The smaller man grasped onto Maki’s sleeve with a surprising amount of strength. Despite how much the professor wanted to protest, the detective pointed out an important detail in a disappointed sigh. A short ways away, the other team leaders, Hisoka and Nobuo seemed to be preparing to duke it out with their microphones and speakers materializing behind each of them.
Shuu: “Look, all the team leaders seem to have a need to blow off some steam. Just let them at it, m’kay?”
Solemnly, Maki nodded. At least they were choosing to use their microphones to settle their disagreements… But would there be consequences for the fight, he wondered.
Asato:
Yet again here you are, all bark no bite
Couldn’t do your damn job so you start a fight
So come on, here’s your chance
Quit that shit, get in stance
Use your mic to prove your worth
So I can plant you in the earth
Make use of that oxygen you’re always wasting
Come on Ryuko, don’t keep me waiting
Unprepared for the verse, Ryuko staggers back. As he’s forced onto one knee, he can only grit and bear as Asato continues his relentless attack.
Asato:
Don’t die on me now, we just got started
Not the first time you’ve been bombarded
You’re just a aphid in my field
Nothing more than a weed
So give up on your dreams, you aren’t winning this battle
Ryuko: “Rrrgh… Shut up, shut up, sHUT UP!”
Ryuko:
Think again you piece of shit
It’s you who will submit
Gonna to wipe that look off your face
When I trample you, erased
Nobody will ever know your name
Just some farmer with no game
Who do you think you are getting picked for the stage
Get back to Toyama and stay in that cage
Silently, Asato seemed to grit the lyrics coming at him. No comment, no expression. His blank face simply glaring at Ryuko who doubled into his lyrics.
Ryuko: “You want some more, huh?!”
Ryuko:
A cage? How about a grave?
It’s what you get for acting brave
My temper might be a pain in the ass
But it’s the thing that proves that you’re outclassed-
Ichijiku: “Enough!”
Cutting through the courtyard, all the hypnosis microphones seemed to snap off and dissipate when a woman’s voice roared through the temporary battlefield. All the men snapped their heads in the direction of two women standing at the entrance of the hotel, the taller one with a pink ponytail appearing as the source of the shouting.
Ichijiku: “Nothing but barbarians… Officer Ietsuna. Take care of the ECO BooN and Sazanka Zombeez leaders. I'll handle the other two teams.”
Riyeko: “Yes ma’am!”
Following Ichijiku’s instructions, the brunette stalked over to the two teams she was ordered to confront with a small crew of uniformed women behind her. At the sight of the women approaching, Ryuko was quick to threaten with violence, now that he had his weapon strangely nullified.
Ryuko: “Huh? You want to fucking go? I’ll fucking beat your ass once I’m done-”
Riyeko: “No you fucking aren’t! Shut up for one second, you prick!”
Not expecting that response from an officer, Ryuko was effectively silenced. The shorter brunette officer then led herself and a small group of female officers over to the two quarreling groups. Her amber hues pierced through each member, before settling on the two leaders with their now nullified hypnosis microphones.
Riyeko: “Fucking morons the both of you.”
Ryuko: “What did you-?!”
Riyeko: “This is expected of you, Ryuko Umemoto. Kadenokoji-san warned us that your were the most likely to start throwing punches.”
Ryuko: “H…How do you…?”
The Zombeez appeared shocked that this woman regarded their leader so casually. None of them expected the casual, vulgar tone from an officer, especially towards their leader who looked completely flabbergasted by the situation.
Riyeko: “However, we are disappointed in you Asato Rikiya. We were hoping your typical demeanor would prevent you from acting irrationally, but you have surprised us.”
Her gaze drifted to her brother.
Riyeko: “Right, Yano?”
Yano: “Y-Yes ma’am.”
The response earned a strange look from Kensaku pointed at Yano, but he kept silent as Riyeko continued on.
Riyeko: “I’m trusting you boys will accept this act of mercy from Kadenokoji-san. Do this again and you may not be so lucky. Got it?”
It was brief, but straightforward. A warning to the two teams to stay out of trouble until the competition started. Once the two teams had nodded with shame, Riyeko seemed to sneer at their submission (something not missed by the ticked off Ryuko) and sauntered back to the rejoin with Kadenokoji’s team.
Maki: “To think a woman like Ichijiku Kadenokoji would be the one to stop us…”
Shuu (mumbling): “Ramu-chan was right, they do have a canceller. And say...Isn’t the pretty pink lady a person of interest?”
Maki: “Sorry? What did you say?”
Shuu: “Oh, nothing! We can talk about it later. For now…”
Grabbing his team mates, Shuu smiled at the two Umemoto brothers.
Shuu: “We should go! Right?”
Maki: “Indeed.”
Shrugging Shuu off, Ryuko let out a soft growl before looking at Asato.
Ryuko: “Tomorrow you’re going to lose, farmer brat. Say your goodbyes to your family, hm?”
Asato didn’t bother to respond, only glowering at Ryuko with a nod. With that, Ryuko scoffed at the purple haired man and walked away.
Kensaku: “So, that was the yakuza guy who harassed your family?”
Yano: “Yeah, that was the guy. I only saw him a couple times when I was visiting his house years ago. Grandma Rikiya really pissed him off everytime they came around.”
Kensaku: “Heheh, sounds like her… Say, Yano? Do you know that officer?”
Yano: “Huh? Oh! U-Uh it’s uh… Compli-Whatever! I’m tired, let’s go already!”
Kensaku: “Well, that was a weird response. Whatever, come on Asato-kun.”
Asato: “...yeah.”
Asato paused for a moment, watching as each team dispersed from the courtyard and into the hotel. Ryuko, seething in rage. Hisoka, pale as a sheet and trembling. And finally Nobuo. Unlike the others, he seemed unaffected by the conflict and in fact, more confident than ever. Looking down at his own boots, Asato wondered:
Asato: "What should I be feeling right now?"
The End
To be continued in EB V.S. SZ DRB Drama Track 2…
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proceduralpassion · 8 months
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Day 4 of Narcoctober- Anything involving a fistfight or gunfight.
Characters: Horacio Carrillo x OC (Kiara Nash), Javier Peña, Steve Murphy
WC: ~1K
A/N: What it do homies? Created an AU of my IWBSS where Kiara is a DEA agent. Not related to the timeline of the IWBSS at all, but similar theme of being missing? Remember that spelling and grammar errors add character and enjoy!
Horacio spent the whole night tossing and turning. Very much unlike him. In fact, he hated it. Even when he felt restless, he’d simply just lay there and stare at the ceiling. But there’s something different in the air right now. He considers for a moment and surmises that this is the most on edge he’s ever felt. And he can’t explain why. 
There was too much going on and everything was going to shit. Every avenue of operations was overly chaotic and so he was unable to gauge where his source of unease arose from. His mind veered to Kiara. 
What they had was new but realer than any relationship he’d ever had with a woman. Perhaps love? He was reticent to declare their liaison as such, but no other word quite fit. The thing is that this was such a new dynamic for both of them. Going from coworkers to in a relationship hadn’t needed much adjustment as of yet. They were both the utmost professional at work and too engrossed in the hunt for taking down the major figures upholding the Medellin cartel. There was no room for any conflict to take place, even if there were any. 
Still, his mind bends to Kiara and he tries to douse away the fact that the lurch in his stomach grows when he thinks of her. 
She was spooked earlier on the raid, which is saying something since she’s always even more stone-faced than her DEA counterparts. When he asks about it in a brief moment of privacy, she denies there being anything wrong. He knows her well enough to know that’s a lie, but Trujillo interrupts with urgent intel before he can prod. In a last glance at her as he’s walking away, he catches her staring dead in the face at one of the cartel runners they were able to snag in the raid.
He could call her right now. 
But he’s not sure what he’ll say when she answers. 
He looks over to his clock and figures she’s more than likely asleep. It’s added to the column of reasons why not to call her just because. But he still wrestles between picking up the phone and dialing her number. 
It’s what keeps him tossing and turning until he’s finally out of bed.
Something’s wrong. It’s the itch in your brain when you know you’ve forgotten something before leaving the house, but can’t for the life of you figure out what it is.
He doesn’t know what or how, but he won’t rest until he knows that his instincts have been confirmed.  
Kiara’s place is only fifteen minutes from his and the roads at 2 a.m. are barren, getting him to his destination even quicker. 
Something’s off immediately. Her door is not only unlocked but slightly cracked. His knock opens it further and his hand is on his holster instantaneously. His stance adapts from a slightly concerned love interest to an esteemed colonel in the Colombia National Police. 
His steps are light and he holds his breath, willing away any sounds that distract from listening in for an intruder. He sees movement from the corner of his eye and immediately blocks the strike that’s garnered against him. The force of the strike and slight surprise allows him to drop his gun, but his reflexes have him obstructing any further hits. He immediately jumps to offense, delivering powerful blows to his opponent in the dark. His fists are merciless, already fracturing bones in the man's face. The sounds of the cracks flowing in the air only encourage him farther.
Glass shatters as he pushes the masked man into the end table and mirror near the hall adjacent to the entry. The man grabs a shard of glass that rests on the table and Horacio just barely dodges being slashed in the face. He’s maneuvering himself out of the way and finds himself pushed back to the couch. From the nights he’s stayed over, he knows that Kiara keeps a bat between the cushions of the vintage blue upholstery. 
Without much digging, he’s able to pull it out and starts swinging artfully. Thwacks and snaps fill the air as the blows rain down on the masked man. He’s long dead before Carrillo spies movement near the front door.
Steve turns on the light and Javi lowers his weapon with a “Shit!” 
He just narrowly avoided being bludgeoned with the wooden weapon had Steve not illuminated the room. They could see him finishing the now dead perpetrator as they crept towards the front door but Horacio had not been able to discern whether they were friendlies or more enemies against the backdrop of the dark Medellin sky. 
Javi exclaims, catching his breath, “How the fuck did you get here so fast? You didn’t even pick up your phone!”
Steve traipses over to needlessly check the dead perp’s pulse while Horacio is too busy looking around to make sure the rest of the place is clear. 
The expression he wears is colored with confusion, with not only what the fuck just happened but also what Peña was talking about. Steve notices, but only raises an eyebrow. Javi is too impatient to wait for an actual answer and just fills him in with what they know.
“We were listening to the tapes tonight. We think one of those fuckers made Kiara from the undercover ops in Cali. There was talk over the wire about the raid earlier and one of the guys that got away mentioned her.” 
Horacio hears the words but they’re muffled and only barely registered because he’s still looking through Kiara’s home. There’s evidence of a struggle, turned over furniture and blood spatter. But no Kiara.
Javi’s still talking as they’re all walking throughout the place now. 
“They didn’t say her name, but the description was spot on. We called her but no answer so we rushed over. Tried to call you, too.”
Her place isn’t a large one, so it doesn’t take long before they’re all meeting back up in the living room.
No sign of any other malefactors, but Kiara is also nowhere to be found.
Horacio feels like he could drown. That lurch in his stomach earlier was nothing compared to the nauseousness he was feeling now.
He looks to Javi and Steve whose expressions have darkened with the gravity of their current circumstances.
“Where is she?”
A/N: Not a cliffie! Click here if you wanna be added to my taglist! Taglist: @asirensrage @narcosfandomdiscord @supersanelyromantic @mysun-n-stars @drabbles-mc @ashlingnarcos
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mobscene-london · 1 year
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BASIC INFORMATION:
NAME: Emre Avşar. AGE: 36. PLACE OF BIRTH: İstanbul, Türkiye. AFFILIATION: The Haringey Resistance. OCCUPATION: Second in Command. FACE CLAIM: Kerem Bürsin. AVAILABILITY: OPEN.
BIOGRAPHY:
İstanbul truly was a spectacle.
Tourists gathered in droves to appreciate an architectural and cultural marvel unlike any other. It was a place of history, and art, and religion, and was not remotely unwarranted in its pride for it all. But whilst it would be a lie to say he didn’t miss home, Emre knew that the city he’d seen was very different to the one reserved for outsiders. For him, the beauty had always been overshadowed by a particularly dark underbelly that he’d been caught up in long before he was mature enough to understand the decisions he was making.
And that was precisely why people like him were targeted.
They never approached the well-off, educated kids from families who actually gave a shit. The petty gangs roaming the back alleys of the city’s less savoury neighbourhoods sought out the weak and vulnerable because it was so much easier to manipulate somebody who was desperate. Back then, Emre had been exactly that. After his parents divorced when he was four years old, his mother, unable to afford caring for a child alone, offloaded her son onto some shady orphanage in Gaziosmanpaşa like he’d meant nothing to her at all.
Emre’s life in Türkiye from that point forward was, with the exception of meeting her, a consistent downward spiral. Being targeted by one of the local gangs seemed more of an eventuality than an unfortunate accident. They liked to pick up the little kids and force them to go begging in the tourist areas. Foreign bleeding hearts were a lot quicker to offer up their hard earned cash to innocent kids who were beaten, bruised, and looked like they needed a meal; all courtesy of those earning on their behalf, of course. They had to make it seem convincing.
At the end of the day, they’d take the money back to whoever was assigned to their area with the hopes of a hot meal and a few coins instead of another beating. Emre usually wasn’t so lucky. Whilst he didn’t have a talent for begging, though, Zehra sure did. Much like him, she’d had an unfortunate start in life that’d landed her in a similarly desperate scenario. With her big doe eyes and pretty features, it was no surprise that she gathered everyone’s attention with ease. His included.
They weren’t supposed to make friends. Maybe because when children got together, they started having fucking ideas. To keep them apart was impossible, though. From their very first hello, Emre had been wholly devoted to her, and as the years passed, their friendship only grew stronger. The streets of İstanbul were dangerous, but he vowed they would never be for her again so long as he was around to protect her. It was a promise that came to a particularly nasty head when the gang they worked for decided to deliver her one of their infamous beatings. Zehra was such a high earner that it became expected. After a poor day where she’d barely scraped together more than him, they’d punished her for it. Emre had relieved some kid of the knife earlier that day. The asshole responsible had seen the sharp end of it with little remorse.
It’d been his first kill. Emre had been twelve years old.
Whilst he might’ve been brave enough to serve the justice, he hadn’t paid much thought (nor did he care) about the consequences that might follow. The idea of them murdering him and Zehra being left alone was his only concern, but it seemed the gang had other plans. Finding little beggars was easy. Finding someone who’d take a life, on the other hand? Not so much. Emre was only punished for what he did to scare him into agreeing to do it again. And he did. Because what other choice did he have?
They used the orphan kids because nobody would miss them if they were gone. Nobody would care if they got hurt instead of someone who mattered. So that was how Emre earned his keep, and to their credit, he got paid a hell of a lot more for bloodying his hands than holding them out. It was enough to look after both himself and Zehra relatively well. When she became too old to earn through pity, Emre had proven useful enough to make demands. If they wanted to keep him around—and he was too damn good at what he did for them to turn it down—they’d let her go. They’d tried to scare him, but he wouldn’t budge.
So eventually they did.
Life continued this way until his late teens. Emre had learned the gang was smuggling people to the UK with fake German passports and papers to attend to their heroin trade. The buy in was insanely expensive, but there was little he wouldn’t pay for a better life. Of course, his price was lessened because he could earn them even more abroad than he did in İstanbul, but they sure took advantage of knowing he’d never leave Zehra behind. They’d bled him dry to pay for her passage; triple the amount it would have cost anybody else. They burdened him with the most dangerous jobs, the most brutal workloads, and drew out his time in the city for as long as possible until eventually, Emre had managed it.
They made it to London just after Zehra’s eighteenth birthday.
Life would never be perfect for someone like him, but it sure got better after that.
They were set up in a shitty two-bedroom flat they had to share with six others, but like always, Emre was there to look out for her until they could do better. Haringey wasn’t exactly an ideal spot, but it was sure better than any of the places he’d spent his childhood, and almost immediately, he was set to work with the gang that operated in the area. His connection? Mehmet Demir.
Perhaps the most striking difference between İstanbul and London came in the way he was treated. It became clear that this time his talents were appreciated instead of demanded, and whilst a certain work ethic was expected, it came a lot easier when it was born out of respect for the old man instead of fear of him. Mehmet taught him everything he needed to know about the city, and eventually, just like his son Hasan—a man who would eventually become a brother to him—he was crafted into a loyal member of the gang. Similar to Mehmet, Emre was the quiet but dangerous type; he kept his head down, but had instilled enough fear over the years that people never mistook it for weakness. It came in handy.
Emre never knew his father, but he liked to imagine he’d have been like Demir.
For seventeen years, Emre has called London home. He’s watched as Zehra has flourished in her freedom, crafted an impressive life all of his own, and learned to know what family feels like in the process. And perhaps that familial feeling is precisely why he never second guessed Hasan’s decision to separate from the rest of the gang. The turmoil the Rutherfords brought to Haringey enraged them all—even if Emre just missed out on witnessing their very hostile takeover—but not nearly as much as the fact people like Hasan have to take a backseat to the likes of Kerem and Azra because of it. Emre doesn’t regret becoming a part of Hasan’s splinter group; partly because he knows it’s the right call, but mostly because there is nowhere else he would be than at the side of his best friend, and a family who’s given him everything.
Whatever London might bring him now, he can hold his head high knowing that he always has—and always will—do the best he can for the people he cares about.
SOCIAL CONNECTIONS:
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single. FAMILY: None. CONNECTIONS:
Zehra Şimşek: Best friend. About the only thing that kept him going through his bleakest moments. There wasn’t much good in his life besides her until he moved to London, but even now, she’s the best of it all. Zehra is without a doubt the person he’s closest to. They’ve been through so much together, and supported each other through some pretty shitty experiences, that their bond isn’t comparable to anyone else. There is nothing he wouldn’t do for her.
Hasan Demir: Best friend. Without question, his brother. It doesn’t matter if they aren’t of the same blood. Emre’s trust isn’t easily earned after the kind of childhood he had, but nobody is more deserving of it than Hasan. They learned the ropes of London together, and have grown as members of the gang alongside each other. Emre trusts his best friend’s judgement, but also knows that if he ever had issue with his decisions, his protests would be heard. Their partnership and leadership is the best thing for Haringey moving forward, and he truly does believe that. 
Mustafa Ilhan: Good friend. With the exception of Zehra, he’s the only connection Emre has retained from İstanbul. The formation of their friendship was an unlikely one, given Mustafa’s status in the gang, but he’s more than proven himself over the years; both back at home, and here in London. Emre is glad he decided to make the journey, and especially so that there’s someone else looking out for Zehra now. 
Elif Ateş: Good friend. Just about all of Hasan’s gang has collectively taken Elif under their wing, and Emre is no exception. The loyalty she has shown not only to the Turks, but them specifically, is worth more than anything to him. Whilst he doubts her brother would be cruel enough to seek her out and punish her for turning her back on their traitorous family, Emre has vowed to have her back. Ayaz lays a finger on her, and he’ll break his fucking legs.
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malicious-pig · 2 years
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Why not now
TW: Sh;Su!c!de;ED
I look at my phone and the bright light makes me squint. Without even looking I turn the brightness down, after doing that movement for the 1000th time I slowly open my eyes. 3am. I’m still not asleep and I don’t think I will be at any point this night. The thoughts rush through my head as my gaze falls on the box I hid in the corner of my room. Deep down I feel something telling me not to do it yet I do not care. Heaving myself out of the bed I yawn and immediately start to get dizzy. Slowly walking, or rather stumbling, I reach the box, grab it and make my way back to the bed. I open it, the blade is full of blood. “It’s been ages since I’ve lasted washed it.”, I say to myself. Then I take the knife out. Oh, how much I despise it, nevertheless I need it. Putting it to my skin, I take a deep breath and start counting. Once back and forth, twice back and forth, three times, four times - I can feel the unsharpened blade ripping at my skin, still, stopping is not an option - five times, six times... I count on ‘till I get to twentie, only then I raise the knife. Immediately the blood comes out and I estimate the cut to be 1mm deep.”That’s not to deep, the plaster can wait”, I tell myself. Now I’m in some kind of rush and I lead the blade to my skin again and again. I’m to tired to count how many new cuts I have now, there’s just about enough energy left to put the knife away. The most important thing to do is to fall asleep before the guilt feeling kicks in, but I better not think about that. Better not think about anything to be honest, afterall that’s the reason I even cut. Shit! Why’d I think about it!? I feel the tears coming up in my eyes, although I’m not able to let them flow. Without even thinking about it I raise my hand and slap myself in the face. “Pull yourself together”, I mumble. Then I hit myself again and again and again until I finally break down on my bed weighing back and forth. I close my eyes. “Why not now? If I’m going to do it why not now? Afterall the knife is already here and I bet it’s not hard to find out where the carotid artery is... What did I just think!?”, I pull myself out of those thoughts, knowing I will ruin everyones lifes by doing it. Still my head keeps wandering of to a bridge, a knife, a building... I decide to look at the time. 3:20am. This night will never be over. I put myself in a more comfortable position and stare at the ceiling. After about 5 minues I can’t do it anymore and since I’ve only jogged half my route today I decide to do some exercises. The adrenalin woke me up, so I put on music, take my earbuds and start doing my usual exercises. I do push-up after push-up. After I’m done I fall on my bed for the third time this night. 2 hours left, until I have to wake up, so why not just bridge it with some tiktok. Opening my phone again I remember to note my mishap from an hour earlier in I Am Sober. Not that it would matter, afterall my streak was only 1 1/2 days. Though I feel the aching in my chest again. Quickly I close the app and open Tiktok. The two hours pass quicker than the rest of the night and before I know it I have to get up and put on my clothes. I don’t even bother to check the weather app anymore, it’s gonna be unbearably hot anyway. Those damn scars. I already used my thin shirt yesterday so today I pick a grey, way to warm turtleneck. I do everything in my power to not think about last night to much, since I can’t afford a panic attack infront of my family. “Take a deep breath!” then I’m already at the breakfast table. Pouring about two spoons of cereal in my bowl being careful noone notices how little of a meal that is. They wouldn’t understand but I know, that I weigh way to much plus, I’ve not fainted yet and I still eat a little bit so dying from it is unlikely, right? I get up from my seat and put on my shoes. The way to my school is just about ten minutes, but I’m so tired I plan in 15 to be safe. The next 2 to 3 hours are pretty uneventful. We won’t have any tests in the next month, so most of the lessons I sit through by doodling on my notebook. Every few seconds I look up to not seem too uninterested, so I can avoid being called on. And then the thought comes back. “Why not now? If I run out of the classroom fast enough I can get up the stairs to the highest storie. A fall from that height would definitely be deadly. It would all be so easy.” For the second time today I have to remind myself, that it would be so selfish of me to ruin everyones lifes. I have to stay alive, I have to help others, because they need my help. I nearly break my pencil, that’s how hard I’ve been pushing it into the pages of my notebook, without even noticing it. But nothing, that I do stops me from having thoughts about it and eventhough I can barely edure it I think “Why not now?”
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Update/Trip report 25ish
I have been... severely neglecting this blog. I'm sorry bruh I just now am starting to get out that weird ass funk I was in for the last weekish
My skin hasn't been getting any worse. I can't particularly tell if it's still yellower than it should be or if this is my normal tone but either way not tripping on it anymore. My eyes have nearly went back to their normal hue. The blood vessels in my eyes are a bit more visible but nothing too alarming
I am a lot less exhausted too. I went from sleeping in and lying around alllll day to my normal lazy routine. I don't do tooo much of anything anyway but I at least now have the energy to do other shit without passing out midway through
My acid reflux is weird to sum it up quick. I've been getting full a lot quicker than usual and me attempting to eat anymore than the little shit here and there I've been doing lately makes it hurt hurt.
Uh actually new symptom I've noticed is my heart hurting when I want dph. Well. Not like want.. need? Ig. Dunno. It's fairly new but my chest feels tight sometimes and I'll struggle to feel my heartbeat and I'd usually pop a few to get rid of it. Tho with me and R being otp a lot as of late I have had to be a lot more selective/careful with how much I take and when. I can play it off pretty well with damn near anyone else but my bsf can sniff it out at times. Plus, I'm a lot quieter in general when I'm high which is kinda problematic when I'm mostly otp to comfort/distract R. I wouldn't be all that useful for that if I'm preoccupied tryna play it cool
Me and R have been on the phone damn near everyday since her and her partner broke up. Well. Took a break? I dunno bruh to me I think not talking to your partner at all and actively ignoring them is a nonverbal breakup. Especially with all her health shit. I get the silent treatment and shit but letting that get bad enough where you aint checking in when she has life changing news flung on her is just blatantly showing you don't give a fuck which TO ME = breakup. I can understand a whole lotta disrespect but the moment you let it effect things to the point you're just.. not cooperating. Not bothering to make sure they're okay.. Completely stepping away from yall until you feel like allowing things to go back to how it was. That's a breakup. Plain and simple
Sorry slight tangent. I just.. it's unimaginable imo. I even bothered to do that much when I thought I was dying lmfao. I may've been slumped a good 75% of the time it ain't that hard to shoot a text and keep it moving. If im being real, I wasn't even gonna tell her I was fucked up but I knew it'd make her actually answer my damn texts. It feels.. slightly manipulative but I honestly don't even care I just needed to make sure she wasn't doing anything absurdly stupid.
Uh but yeh. Everyday damn near since as at first I'd be sleep so good I wouldn't notice she texted so she'd call me to make sure I wasn't like dead and shit. Then she'd keep me otp to ease her anxiety on that shit. Ya know. Like making sure if some shit did happen she'd immediately hear it. Then as I got back right I texted back more consistently and I figured we'd stop talking again but then she started doing entirely too much as far as getting high to not think and shit and she'd call cause she knew I knew what's normal and not you know? I'm sure it was partially so she wouldn't feel so lonely but I'm sure she only turned to me cause I wouldn't make too much of a fuss about her getting high. I mean like, course.. I'd prefer her not to do all that period but I know I really can't stop her completely rn. She's going through a lot rn and that's just how she deals with it. I know whether or not I press her on that she's taking em so I'd rather keep her from being too unsafe with it.
Now it's prolly just routine. And I can semi replace her partner as far as constantly being otp. I know she'd pick her over me if she could but for now I can at the very least fill the gap so she doesn't feel like her entire world is got snatched from under her. I know how it is to go from always having someone there to being completely alone (ish. we both have siblings and shit but course aint exactly the same) Shit is hard and it's so easy to spiral and feel like everything's wrong cause so much changes all at once. I feel gross and odd knowing that that's all I am. Shit is gonna be all gone soon as her partner comes back around. But honestly I'd rather just hold my tongue and deal with the reabandoning shit once it comes. No real reason to make her think about that rn she has enough on her plate as is
Actually otp rn lmao. Slightly salty off some shit she said about her partner and shit but.. is what it is tbh. I'm tryna stay quietish and type loudish so she will think I'm just not talking much cause I'm focused on this. I know if I talk rn my voice'll prolly give it away so I'm tryna chill out with this stuff.
Uh but. As for trip report 25. I took 150 last night and passed out not realizing it. Was not the plan at all but not too mad. I woke up forgetting I took it tho no real consequences from that. My heart kinda hurts tho so I might pop a few extra rq. Dunno.
I'm gonna stop that there tho.. I don't wanna be too quiet and have her figure it out that way lol. I think Ima semi tell about this blog but not fully fully as it'd be an EXTREMELY stupid decision on my end lmfao
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