#this is just a silly self indulgent post i made to get it out of my system | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

riaki · 7 months

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nice boys and sour hearts | satoru gojo x reader

wc: 4.6k cw: minor swearing, he refers to u as 'momma' once (its normal i promise) n i think thats about it post suguru defection, shoko typical smoking ; no established relationship b ur def more than friends

i didnt want this angst to be too intense so i made it super duper fluffy. hopes it tastes like strawberries to u cs it does in my head ; another one of those fics i whipped up to meet the weekend deadline b i’m actually proud of this one not proofread!

satoru hates arguing with you.

it bites at him; twists his heart from the inside out in such a gut-wrenching way that he can hardly stand seeing your nose wrinkle in frustration and your eyes narrow with impatience, let alone hear the words coming out of your mouth, dripping with venom and irritation directed at him. he's never been used to being on the receiving end.

it tastes sour; bitter on his tongue in a way he's never been accustomed to. his tastebuds only recognize the sweet taste of fruit syrup, powdered sugar, or warm chocolate as home; he never indulges in the bitter, like the black coffee the kid he took in seems to like so much. but he'll take the silly sour lemon drops with sweet cream in the center, only because they remind him of you. you, so sweet when you love but sour when you're annoyed, which happens to be now, in this instant.

of course, he'll tell himself he doesn't mind. that sweet and sour have always gone nicely together. like strawberry lemonade on hot summer afternoons when the both of you have had enough of being stuffed into a clammy hot classroom with your musclebrain teacher. sometimes its the three of you, maybe even the four of you if you get lucky with the pixie stick trade offering (a healthier alternative to a cigarette, you both agreed on). but nowadays, it was only ever the two of you. the bitter had chosen his own path, and tangy was locked up in the infirmary sun up to sun down.

but right now, you're upset with him. and he absolutely despises it— to him, it's abhorrent. a strong word, but it's only fitting. but he can't help it when your conversation lingers in his mind, spinning itself a web of self-doubt and hurt and anger as he slips his gym shoes off and redresses himself by the school lockers, running a hand through his hair with a forced, annoyed exhale.

it was nothing big, really. or at least, that's what he thinks. you'd been in the gym after school, watching as he messed around with the basketball, seeing how long he could go dribbling by himself with a bump of his knee there, pushing it to the floor with his hand and watching it bounce back up with mild interest. he had no one to play with, but at least the ball would come back up no matter how much he pushed it down.

it was small. barely worth fussing over.

he had already been irritated. it was hot out, because summer was coming around. sweat beaded on his neck and rolled down his chest, seeping into his shirt as he wiped his forehead and made another shoot at the hoop, landing back on his feet with a soft thud as the basketball rattled around the rusted metal ring and fell through the net for the nth time that afternoon.

a hum of approval comes from your throat, followed by a loud whistle of contentment from him as he watches the ball bounce on the floor. he hikes his sunglasses up his forehead, bringing an arm up and wiping away the sweat on his cheek with his sleeve as he turns to look at you.

"that was pretty good, yeah? i think i deserve a celebratory smooch. lay some sugar on me, momma'." he laughs, loud and arrogant. you just give him a pointed look at that, but he ignores it as a sign for something wrong and only acknowledges it as your dramatic endearment. like speeding up at the sight of a yellow light in hopes that you'll make it instead of slowing down at the warning.

his shoes made squeaking sounds on the gym floor as he made his way over to you, swiping his shades off his face and sliding them onto your forehead, nestling in your hair as he grabbed a rag from the bench and wiped the sweat from his jaw. you have his uniform jacket on your lap, the yellow button glinting in the dying sunlight filtering in through the windows, reflecting off indiscernible flecks of dust in the air.

you had watched him with quiet contentment, observing the languid way he moved, graceful like a dancer moving in water. but then, you seemed to remember something; his lips pressed into a thin line, tilted to one side in anticipation. it made you hesitate— he always knew when you were about to speak before you even opened your mouth. he had come to notice, and appreciate, little things about you like that.

"were you smoking with shoko?" you had asked him. he tilted his head, eyebrow cocked up as he made a face. "no, i wasn't. why d'ya ask?" he huffed, watching from the corner of his eye with mild disinterest as the basketball, still rolling from his previous goal, bumped into the wall. cocky as ever.

(he wouldn't even look you in the eye when you were being dead serious.)

you reach a hand into his jacket, fishing around for something in his pocket; that gets his attention. who knows what trinkets and candy wrappers he has in there? and he'd hate for you to send him to his yearly checkup early again; the nurses always try to coddle him, and he has half a mind to charge for battery. nevertheless, he almost mistakes what you pull out for a lollipop stick. but it's not— it's a cigarette; a white papery hit of cancer with a dead cherry. certainly not a wise idea to keep that in his pocket among the other very flammable wax wrappers and the occasional flower petal, but who were you to judge? you, who's lips pucker like they've just tasted lemon juice when he eyes the unlit cigarette, utterly unamused.

he knows that you know it's his; the subtle glistening of pink around the end points to the gloss on his lips; he can practically taste it on his tongue. he wonders if you'd put the cigarette to your mouth too if you could have a sample of his lipgloss; then again, you could always just ask for a lip-to-lip taste, and he'd indulge you without a second thought.

you twist the cigarette butt between your fingers so that he can see the remnants of faint strawberry pink on the edges. he just rolls his eyes with a loud huff, leaning his weight back on his heels and shoving his hands in his pant pockets.

"yeesh. you're such a goody two shoes, y'know? how come shoko's allowed to smoke 'n i'm not?" he drawls, an arrogant lilt to his voice as he sticks his lower lip out. you can see a matte spot where the gloss had been transferred to the cigarette paper. you just sigh exasperatedly (he feels like a kid when you do that) and lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees. his jacket bunches up in your lap.

you tap the cigarette to his chest a few times; it makes a soft thumping sound against the fabric, and for a moment he's grateful of the noise; it sounds just like the way his heartbeat picks up with each touch, but you don't hear it. he wonders if you ever will. maybe one day, when there isn't so much distance between you and he has the opportunity to tuck your head to his chest, right over his heart.

"it's not that i care about the lung damage, idiot. why were you smoking?" you asked, voice softening. and he absolutely hates when you do that, because it always pulls on his heartstrings and brings a flush to his face, the way you treat him. he thought that if you did it enough, he'd be sent to the doctor for heart palpitations instead of a sweet tooth.

he doesn't answer you at that. how could he tell you, when he knew all that'd result from it was a thorn in his side? you, being the rose. so beautiful but awfully prickly and unfairly sour like a lemondrop with a sweet inside. then again, he'd much rather have your interrogating care than lose you, like what had happened with the reason he was trying out smoking in the first place.

then, it happened— your voice went unbearably soft, like puffy white covers and featherlight pillows with silk covers on a saturday morning, looking out the window to see pink tulips against a cloudy blue sky as the sun streamed in. it almost made him want to clutch your hand over his chest and see if you could feel the way he was reacting. no doubt, it was filled with such patient tenderness; all-encompassing sweetness it made him want to cry. so he coughed to cover it up, averting his gaze and bringing one hand to his face to absentmindedly smooth down the strands of damp white hair hanging over his eyes.

"thinkin' about suguru again, are you?" you asked gently, tucking the cigarette back into your pocket—yours, not his—and reaching out to take his hand.

his lips parted ever so slightly, gaping like a goldfish. he knew he looked silly, and he should've been okay with that— because being vulnerable with you, out of everyone he ever knew (with maybe the exception of one) was easier than breathing; came more naturally to him than his gravitation to a challenge. the same could be said for sweets.

(maybe he'd have to re-evaluate his proclaimed taste, then. since you were more sour than sweet.)

but this time, he wasn't okay with it. it had been hard to talk about what had happened with suguru one year ago since— it formed a nasty lump in his throat, bitter like black coffee and the wrong mix of herbs. it made him feel weak. reminding him of his shortcomings, which, in his mind, shouldn't even exist in the first place. but you never had a problem ripping his problems from the shielded cavity in his gut, bringing them under the operator's light to dissect and solve like a surgeon. forget about forcing him to the doctor's— at this point, you should be the one in the white coat, not shoko. he thinks about what you'd look like with blue gloves on your delicate fingers for a moment too long.

"what's it to you?" he snaps back after what feels like three years of his life. his fingers tighten around yours for a moment before he pulls his hand away abruptly.

the frown that lingered on your face from then on had been burned into his memory.

and, well, that was his mistake. it spiraled from there— because he knew what it was to you, and he hated that. hated that you could see straight through him like a cloud blue stained glass window; without rose colored lenses like the ones he always wore (the ones he rocked, he thinks).

a crack of thunder overhead jolts him from his thoughts; he couldn't even get in there to dust the spiderwebs away before being jerked back into reality. he clicks his tongue in disappointment, watching as the skies pry themselves open and rain begin to fall in the way it only did over heavy summer showers. he wishes the sky would stop its weeping, but even the strongest has his limitations.

but it doesn't matter. he has one of those cheap plastic umbrellas he'd bought from a convenience store one day in a late march many moons ago, during the brightest blue spring of his life. and so, he didn't understand why he was lingering at the door, swinging the umbrella around his fingers by the hook on the handle, watching as the rain fell with increased fervor. there was no plastic button to keep the folds tied up, so it floundered around with each swing like a tulip bent by monsoon winds. maybe on the coast of some faraway land with windmills and fields of flowers. he wonders if he'll ever get to see the world with you someday— a fleeting thought that crumbles instantly when he conjures your pretty face in his vision, clear yet distorted like a reflection on a glazed pond, rippling water from the dragonflies that skipped over the surface.

you were definitely still angry with him, because you hadn't showed— normally, you'd walk home together. sometimes with shoko, if she didn't leave early. angry words echo in his mind, the image of your downturned lips swimming in his bright vision as he watches the rain streak down the window panes by the lockers. there's a fog settling over the grass outside that's sure to leave dew after the storm. he wonders when that'll be.

"why can't you ever take me seriously? can't you see i'm worried about you?"

"of course i can. but i don't need your damn concern!”

...

he'd been sorely mistaken, that was for sure. loosing his cool and snapping at you wasn't exactly something he took pleasure in, either way. he leans back on his heels, tapping his foot impatiently as he holds the umbrella like a cane against the floor. infinity could probably do away with the rain. another reason as to why he's not even sure why he's waiting here, or why he's holding an umbrella. perhaps to keep in case he has to offer it to some poor, shivering and cowering young maiden lost beneath the shading of a bus stop behind a curtain of rain droplets, with a charming grin and a wink.

maybe.

a shuffle behind him catches his ear; he turns his head, an unamused expression on his face as his eyes drift over the empty room to land on you. the shadows beneath your eyes are prominent, and your hair is unkempt. there are sleep lines on your face; you probably fell asleep in a classroom somewhere, which is why you delayed.

it was evident you weren't expecting to see him, though— with the way your eyes widened a little before they dropped again, nose bridge wrinkling slightly as if you'd caught the scent of something unpleasant. your eyes left his, and he felt a little disappointed as he watched them wander toward the window, where the current downpour was prominent. he didn't like the way it made his chest pang when your attention was anywhere but him, so he raised his hand lazily, tilting his head to catch your attention that he so clearly craved.

"yo. got an umbrella?" he calls, tapping the tip of his budget cane on the floor. the thud is the only sound for a while as your gaze wanders back over to him; reluctant.

"no, i don't. i didn't expect it to rain so hard today." you responded quietly, stepping over to him with a small sigh. almost a little resigned, he thinks. he can't be sure, though. he never is with you. doesn't know whether to expect his candy to be sour in the center or the other way around; but maybe he likes a bit of uncertainty every once in a while. (not with you, though. if it means arguing? never with you.)

his sunglasses are hooked around the collar of your shirt. he doesn't know why it takes him so long to realize, but when he does, he has to clear his throat in an effort to hide the heat on his face and do away with the blush. "here. take mine. i don't need it," he says curtly, offering his umbrella to you. he wants to snatch the shades from your shirt, but he doesn't want anything to go wrong, so he just eyes them warily, careful not to let his gaze slip past into anything you'd be pissed at him for.

you eye him, eyes narrowed as you raise an eyebrow, but you don't protest. your fingers brush against his for a brief moment when you take it, shaking it a little before opening the door and stepping outside, opening it up. it looks like a little clear plastic mushroom cap over your head; you're short enough to constitute as the stalk in his eyes. it's a little funny, but he has to stifle the laugh bubbling on his tongue lest you think he's making a mock of you.

he follows after you, slipping past to stand at your side with his hands in his pockets. you can't help but feel a little curious despite your prolonged anger (you like holding grudges, he knows), so you sneak a glance upward to satiate your wonder. you don't expect him to look as breathtaking as he does.

the clouds are light overhead; they're not a heavy blanket of gray anymore, and a small strip of light manages to push through, shining on satoru's pale white hair. you can make out the edge of his undercut against his neck when the wind picks up a little, the color of fluffy white clouds on a lavender sunset with the sway of yellow flowers beneath an expanse of a bright sky. there's a little cat hair on the collar of his jacket; you realize with a faint flush that it must've been from when you were holding his jacket for him in the gym. somehow, the cat you have at home found its way to satoru. you hope your pet has become a matchmaking fortune teller, for the sake of your happiness.

what catches your eye the most, though, isn't the cat hair on his dark jacket or the faraway look in his misty blue eyes; it's the outline of rain water around him, a product of his infinity, you realize. he's dry underneath the downpour, and it never ceases to amaze you. it's like there's a soft glowing halo against the backdrop of tangled wires, gray walls and pale green bushes— he looks like an angel boy, school bag hooked and hanging over one shoulder.

eventually, you manage to peel your gaze away, and he notices— looks down at you, pressing his lips together and running his tongue over them. he can taste strawberry gloss.

wordlessly, you start walking. and he follows suit, rain bouncing off of him; you catch yourself sneaking glances from under the roof of your clear umbrella between raindrops that slide down the clear plastic. sometime during the walk home, he had gone off and gotten himself a drink from a nearby vending machine— the red can catches your eye, and your fingers curl around the rubber handle of the lent umbrella as you watch him drink; the bob of his adam's apple before he crushes the can up and tosses it into a nearby bush, causing a brief scattering of leaves and a downpour of collecting droplets onto the pavement.

despite the rain, the weeds between the cracks in the sidewalk still stay strong; they have deep roots. much like the way you never fail to scowl at him for littering. he catches it— of course he does. he's been praying for a sign you're not still so hopelessly angry with him that you can't even bring yourself to have a civil walk in the summer rain together. after the scowl, though, comes the smile— the one that always makes him melt in his shoes, much like the sunshine after the rain.

and there it is at last, he thinks. the hard sour coating melts away on his tongue, draining the taste of lemon to reveal a sweet, genuine center. all it takes is time. your lips curve up, and you duck your head, hiding the small bemused laugh that leaves you breathless.

"what are you laughin' at?" he huffs, glaring down at you. but there's no malice behind it— if only you could feel the wave of relief that's washed over him, a crest of white foam that leaves behind still waters reflected in the pools of sapphire in his eyes. nothing like the hit of numbing nicotine he'd shared in the shade of an alleyway with shoko earlier that day— away from the sun; away from you. hidden from both. or maybe they were the same— to him, he couldn't differentiate.

"i'm not laughing!" you protested weakly, immediately wiping the grin from your lips, and he regrets speaking up. "just.. i dunno."

you walk in silence for a little longer, content to listen to the rain lighten up overhead. satoru kicks a plastic onigiri wrapper out of the way, splashing up a puddle as a frown dampens his face when the wrapping only clings to his shoes. he's fine with getting a little grumpy if it means seeing you smile again. and even better, you laugh again— so sweet, like the chiming of bells in the wind's melody.

"please don't do that again." your voice sounds so very small when he hears it again, and he looks down at you from beneath long white lashes, the corner of his lips quirked up. the shape of them is almost cat-like, you think. he doesn't even know what you're talking about— a vague idea, at best— but he won't do it. not if it means hearing you sound so pathetically... sad. he doesn't like it. it's far too bitter for his taste. let the black betta you both used to know indulge in dark coffee and bitter cologne— satoru likes things sweet, like the cream surrounded by tea leaf matcha in the center of his mochi and fluttering feeling he gets when you run your hands through his hair, fluffing it up to your heart's content.

(as long as your heart is happy, his is, too.)

"i won't. happy now?" he sticks his tongue out, making a face. but you both know he means it— he hates breaking his promises to you. you smile when you look up at him again with a small nod, and he feels his knees wobble a little. he just hopes you don't notice. "sorry for lying. i just.. don't like it when you're mad at me. and you look at me like that," he mumbles under his breath, bunching up the fabric of his pants between his fingers. then, after a moment, "geez, you're so dramatic. quit carin' so much." he really hopes you don't stop, and it makes him feel like the world's biggest hypocrite. the strongest, but so weak for you.

"sorry, can't. the day you stop crushing your soda cans and littering is the day i'll stop caring, 'cus that won't be my satoru anymore." you tease. and he laughs, throwing his head back so you don't see the red that spreads across his cheeks, dusting his skin like powdered sugar on top of a strawberry crepe. he always wants to be your satoru, so he figures he'll keep littering. a few money fines here and there mean nothing to his undentable wallet, or the erratic beating of his heart, trapped against his ribcage in a feathery blooming of flowers he only gets from you and your pretty smile underneath the layer of lemony sourness.

you walk along the road for a little while longer. the rain has lightened, but it's still going— incessant, dripping from the leaves of trees and the knotted black wires overhead. he still has his infinity up, which means he can't pet the cat the two of you spot on your way back, but he's perfectly content to watch you do it. you scratch its chin, smiling at the way it purrs and nuzzles into your hand, and he wonders if he'd do the same if he was in its position.

he's lost in thought when you speak to him again, shoes splashing against murky puddles in the backdrop of a never-sleeping city; tokyo's bright skyline always makes your eyes go round with wonder. you say something, and he chuckles, warm and velvety. and then you realize what's been off with him this whole time— he doesn't have his shades on.

you slip them off the collar of your shirt, smoothing down the fabric before you reach over and attempt to nudge his arm. you don't think it'll work, because he still has his infinity up— and your sleeves are already getting spattered by rain that leaves darkened wet spots on the cotton. but to your amazement, your fingers make contact with his sleeve, and you watch in wonder as the rain actually falls— soaks into that little patch of wet fabric that you're able to feel on his arm. that he's turned his infinity off in that one spot so you could touch him. you spare a glance up at him, only to find his head angled away from you. you might be hallucinating, but the tips of his ears seem red.

you don't linger on it before you're tugging on his shirt with a frown, getting him to look down at you as you unfold his glasses and offer them over to him. he takes them quickly, and you don't miss the way the rain stops falling onto his arm again, back to bouncing off the invisible shield that protects him from everything (but you, it seems). he slips his dark shades back over his eyes, obscuring oceans of pure blue that seem like they've trickled in from the purest snowcaps on the distant mountains dotted with old red tori gates and shrines with scrapped paint. but you can't stifle the smile that spreads across your lips this time— giddy and fresh and filled with youth, blossoming like sakura petals in a spring that seems so far away yet so close with his presence by your side.

you don't say anything for a while. you're content to watch the rain wash down the pavement and into the gutters, past cute little coffee shops and parks with ponds as the droplets from the sky scatter the water in part of a never-ending cycle; watering the surface of the earth and bringing life that would soon spring up as shroomcaps and fresh dew on the clean cut green grass. you wonder what satoru sees through his lenses— though, you already know. you've worn them plenty of times before, when he insists on having your perfume cling to the frame for long missions he's sent on alone, when he can't have you hold his jacket, or his hand, or scold him for sneaking a smoke when you're not watching. that, and the extra lemondrops he keeps in his pocket; gifts from you that he's fought hard for.

you're more prepared to not feel any interference of his infinity this time when you reach over, and this time you don't go for his sleeve—yanking him close to you by his hand and forcing him beneath your umbrella. you feel the way he freezes up for a moment, but his fingers fill in the gaps between your own like its the most natural thing in the world, palms pressed together in a little breathless hug that leaves no room for the humid air.

"don't waste your infinity on the rain, dumbass. you'll fry what little is left of your brain." you scold him, and he just grumbles and scoffs angrily under his breath, cursing you as he hunches over and ducks his head to fit under the umbrella to negate his height. his hair brushes against the plastic roof of the umbrella, and his lanky limbs are still awkwardly sticking out, but his fingers tighten around yours and his thumb rubs over your knuckles, still a little damp from your earlier encounter with the rain, and you can't help but smile a smile bright enough to wash away every last bit of cloud in the sky. his personal sunshine.

even though he still prefers sweet things, satoru's come to like the taste of lemondrops. sweet and sour go well together, after all. just like you and him.

its okay if it doesnt taste like anything to u as long as u enjoyed it :) thanks for reading !! the black betta in question is suguru btw my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

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seelestars · 3 months

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sunday w/ a fellow halovian s/o …

a/n : there needs to be more love for this little pigeon … he’s so cute im in love ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡ but alas, the only thing i can do is take matters into my own hands and contribute to feeding fellow sunday likers … can’t believe i’ve posted x2 in a day

- as a halovian, you’d likely be in one of the other families in penacony (bloodhound, iris, nightingale, alfafa)

- i think this would be smth sunday enjoys a lot, as he feels like he doesn’t need to hide as much when it comes to matters concerning the family and penacony since you’re already apart of the family as well, which means you know more about the inside matters of penacony

- but besides that, he also enjoys sharing the products he uses for his wings with you

- he’ll gently massage luxurious, expensive oils into your feathers

- if you decide to reciprocate such gestures and massage his wings as well, he’ll be very appreciative and happy—accepting your care with a soft yet subtle smile and a rosy tint on his cheeks

- whenever the two of you kiss each other, your wings always tickle each other (smth that always makes you giggle while he lets out quiet chuckles)

- if you got matching wing piercings with him .. he’ll be staring at them nonstop

- gets the two of you matching pairs of … wingrings? (feels wrong to say earrings…) with the color of his eyes and the color of your eyes

- might get a bit silly sometimes and communicate with you telepathically about certain opinions that he can’t voice around guests

- his smile widens just the slightest once you respond back with telepathy as well

in the quiet intimacy of your shared home, you were currently indulging in some self-care. “that feels so good…” you sigh softly as sunday hummed while massaging different oils into your feathers. you could feel yourself relax as you leaned against him, his touch very soothing and pleasurable on your sensitive wings.

“im glad it does.” sunday grins fondly once he notices you enjoying his touch, taking it as a sign to continue as you melt into the warmth of his bare hands. he made sure to handle your wings as delicately as possible, not wanting to cause you any harm. it was clear his touch was full of love and affection, massaging the spots he knew you liked most.

soon enough, sunday finishes caring for your wings. you already feel yourself craving for more of his touch. you just can’t seem to be satiated when it comes to him… after pondering for a moment on how else you could satisfy such feelings, your eyes lit up. “sunday! you should let me massage your wings too!” you beam, eagerly grabbing the bottles of essential oils.

“…ah? if that’s what you want, then go ahead my love.” sunday’s eyes slightly widened in surprise, you had never proposed such an idea to him before. it was always him being the one taking care of you—but he supposes he doesn’t mind if you were the one taking care of him for once.

and so, he found himself being soothed by your caresses as you gently rub the oils into all the crevices on his wings. you managed to provoke a laugh out of him quite a few times when you accidentally reached spots that were ticklish for him. with your touch, only one thought remained in his head.

he hoped he would get more opportunities like this in the future.

#✷ . nova’s brainrot !#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #sunday x reader

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hoedamn-eron · 3 months

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shut up, kid

You awake to your first Mother’s Day with baby Bateman.

Warnings: Nathan is honestly the only warning you need. I suppose some hints of breastfeeding too (a fed baby is a happy baby, whether bottle or breast). Actually proofread for once, but probably still mistakes that I missed. Word count: 750 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

This was written VERY last minute (by last minute, I mean at 9:30pm on Mother's Day in the UK 😂). Anyway, happy Mother’s Day to all the parents out there! 😊 I’ve recently been very broody and very Nathan oriented, so I created this mostly self-indulgent fic (loosely based on this post from a few weeks ago).

I struggle to write Nathan, I feel like I can't get his personalty, or his demeanour right, so please let me know if I can improve anywhere! I want to write more Nathan!

It was the sound of a loud, high-pitched, excited squeal, that woke you up.

“Hey,” came the voice of your boyfriend, sounding distant and muffled as the sweet caress of sleep called back to you. “I know we came to wake up your mom, but that’s not the way to do it. You want to deal with the dragon before she’s had her morning coffee? No? I fuckin’ thought not. Shut up, kid.”

“You shouldn’t swear at your son,” you muttered into your pillow, knowing now that sleep was just a distant memory.

“Ah, shit.”

You grin into the pillow before you look up, your eyes blurrily settling on your boyfriend, who had a mug of coffee in his left hand (in your favourite mug – one you got from a Blue Book convention back when you were in college, long before you met Nathan...Nathan hated it), and his other hand was occupied supporting your seven-month-old son, Silas, who was happily sitting on Nathan’s hip, still in his footsie pyjamas, chewing on his pointer finger. It was sickening how you carried the kid for nine months, and going through a 36-hour labour, sacrificing your body and your boobs (your nipples will never be the same again), for him to look exactly like Nathan.

You still love the bones off him anyway.

“Kid doesn’t know what I’m saying, it’s fine,” Nathan continues, coming over to you and holding out the mug. You take it, smiling up at Nathan as he leans down to you and presses a kiss against your lips, murmuring a ‘good morning’ to you before he straightens up.

He’s so hot. Even now, he’s just wearing some old sweatpants and a t-shirt (it even has a stain of old baby throw up, which you just couldn’t get out), but it’s the way he’s holding your son...it does things to you.

“Good morning,” you greeted back, taking a sip of your coffee. You nod at Silas as he continued to chew on his finger. “Lost another pacifier?”

“I don’t know what he does with them,” Nathan said, shaking his head, gesturing with now free his hand around the room. “Spend all my fuckin’ spare time trying to find that blue one that he refuses to nap without.”

“Language,” you tell him, take a sip of your coffee.

“Sorry,” he says, almost on autopilot. “I’ll request more for the chopper next week. Think 50 will be enough? Obviously fuckin’ not, he’ll lose them all within a week.”

You laugh as you shake your head at him before looking at Silas. “Is your dada silly?” you ask him in your most annoying baby voice.

The kid loves it. He smiles widely at you and kicks his legs in excitement.

“Anyway,” Nathan says, adjusting Silas in his grip as he looked back at you, evidently choosing to ignore your comment to your son. “Happy Mother’s Day, or whatever. I made you breakfast, your favourite. The kid had some, he loved it, so now we’ll probably have to make it for him every day. I’ll run you a bath and by the time you’re finished it should be ready. While you’re being a lazy ass in the tub and skirting your duties as a mother - “

You go to swat Nathan on the thigh, but he dodges you swiftly and carries on like he was never interrupted.

“Me and this one,” he nods to Silas. “Will work on some tummy time, see if we can start crawling today.”

“Not all kids start crawling at seven months.”

“Not all kids are mine.”

“Debatable, regarding all the sex you were having before we met.”

“You’re reaping all the benefits from ‘all that sex’.”

“You pig.”

“You love me.”

You do. God, you do. So much. But you’re not going to tell him that.

You take a gulp of your coffee, hiding your smile.

“Get your pretty ass out of bed,” Nathan said, already turning away from you, grabbing Silas around the tummy and tossing him lightly in the air and catching him, causing Silas to laugh that cute baby giggle he has that melts your heart. “Come and celebrate your first Mother’s Day.”

He leaves the room, and you laugh to yourself as you distinctly hear the sound of Nathan giving Silas a raspberry on his belly as he walks down the corridor, the squealing sound of laughter from your son following right after.

It sends a warm feeling of joy and happiness through you.

#nathan x reader #nathan bateman #nathan Bateman x reader #dad!nathan Bateman #nathan Bateman x f!reader #ex machina #oscar isaac #dad!nathan bateman x mom!reader

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gambleofstars · 4 months

Text

Lucifer HCs with Lust Sin!Reader (amab, gn)

₍ ⌨ ᶻᶻᶻ gambleofstars is typing ... ₎

ପ(๑•̀ᴗ•̀)* NOTICE: this post is NSFW, so minors do not interact.

tags: sub!lucifer ; NSFW ; gn reader ; handjob ; hickeys/biting ; tender & gentle ; size difference

↳ ❝ [a/n: LISTEN. listen. i love ozzie to death but i really wanted to see how this would play out, so... purely self indulgent :3 also, writing sub!lucifer is a drug and i want more. also yeah, i made the reader taller again before you're in my house ;) enjoy yourself ] ¡! ❞

𓆩♡𓆪 To simply put: you are a menace.

𓆩♡𓆪 You usually spend your days at the Lust Ring, naturally. Doing your daily tasks, taking care of things, etc. And of course, enjoy your night to the fullest.

𓆩♡𓆪 At some point though, maybe around midnight, you get a bottle of your favorite wine and one of just grape juice; then take your private portal (courtesy of who you're visiting) to the Pride Ring.

𓆩♡𓆪 This, is where Lucifer's struggles begin.

𓆩♡𓆪 He looks back at you in the doorway of this bedroom with an unimpressed look on his face as you sway your tail back and forth with a delighted smile.

𓆩♡𓆪 (Though he does appreciate you bringing non-alcoholic drink for him)

𓆩♡𓆪

"Yeah, yeah.. Come in, make yourself at home" Lucifer rolls his eyes "As always"

You hum, amused "Oh Lu, dearest, you act like you don't enjoy my visits" you set the bottles on the small table near his balcony and sit down. The slight breeze made the sheer curtains sway.

Sheer, like Lucifer's night robe. With feathers at the cuffs and the ends, truly as dramatic as him; pink and pretty. It flutters like waves across the floor as he brings two glasses from a nearby display cabinet.

He sighs "It's not that.." he trails off and you see his eyes go into that place they sometimes do - somewhere you can't follow. Before silence can get awkward, he opens the wine bottle and pours you a drink.

You can't help but smile to yourself; always in little things, you can see how much this adorable angel treasures pleasing others.

"Did something happen?" you finally question, swirling the wine a bit before sipping.

You observe his every reaction: the way his hand falters with the bottle of juice, his eyes dart around for a split second, his breath gets caught in his throat - Yeah, something is up for sure.

"No! Um- no..." he mumbles and takes a swing of his juice.

Oh you silly little man. You reach over to him, cradling his small face easily with the palm of your hand "Little star, what troubles you?" you keep your voice low, afraid to startle the delicate atmosphere.

He leans into your touch and sighs in defeat "Just bad memories is all... Today marks 7 years since-" it looks like the said memory gets too painful to think about and makes him close his eyes: almost like he was hiding from it.

Lilith. Honestly, you two never really interacted, but they seemed happy together, but now was not the time for questioning.

Instead, you sigh deeply and get up. Before Lucifer can protest your missing touch, you grab his glass and set in on the table; it's easy to scoop him up into a bridal style and carry him to the bed. Meanwhile he looks up at you with those round, curious eyes.

"It pains me to see you so" you explain and settle comfortably on the soft covers and pillows, cradling Lucifer to lay mostly on you. You kiss his golden hair "Such precious little angel you are, pretty like a true star. This sadness is unsuited for your beautiful face."

He looks down, almost ashamed, but you assure him with another kiss - on his cheek this time "I blame you not for this, darling"

You both lay in a comfortable silence for a while, as you stroke his hair and leave butterfly kisses on his face. After a bit of thinking, you decide to comfort him in a way you know best - and in what you specialize in.

"Darling, would you let me soothe you?" you ask quietly.

He knows what you mean - you two regularly meet up for this type of thing after all. With the vulnerable state of his mind, you know it's asking a lot for him to trust you, so you wait with bated breath.

He nods with unshed tears sparkling in his eyes, looking up at you like you're his one and only savior. Oh to savor this sweet thing, all doe and delicate, like a doll.

You'll make sure those bad memories will be at the very back of his mind for tonight.

"Ah! Oh-!" the king squirms against your hold on his hip, but to no avail. Your other hand has a gentle hold on his cock, stroking it from time to time - being just a tad bit mean to hear more of those cute little noises.

You're sure your claws will leave indents on his hips, but they'll heal soon enough (you can't help but be a bit displeased). His porcelain skin is littered with red and purple bite marks, all of which has caused him to moan and whine.

He's arching his back and clutching with both of his hands at the pillow, thrashing his head against it. All the sensations are clearly overwhelming him, but he's enjoying every second of it.

Both of your hands move up to his lithe waist and you switch your positions. You sit against the pillows and place him on your lap, so that he's straddling your thighs.

"H-huh?" Luficer's brain seemed to slow down, but he soon adjusted himself to his comfort; his hands clutched onto your dress-shirt and he rested his face onto your chest, gluing himself to you. You couldn't help but swing one arm over his shoulders to hold him close.

"Feels so- ah!?" you didn't even let him finish his sentence before starting to stroke him again - harder and faster this time, holding him tighter when he started to squirm again "I c-can't!- oh! ah! Don't stop! Please please please!"

There was no need for begging but you weren't going to complain.

You pulled back a bit to see his face, almost glittery cheeks and rosy lips; you lean down to kiss him - as deep and sensual as you can. You want him to know that you are his savior and you will never leave his side. Not like her.

He whimpers into the kiss like he knows your intentions, bucking up against you, desperate. Now he's the one cradling your face and looking you deep in your eyes when you separate. They speak so much, yet none of the words leave his lips. Not yet.

Soon enough, his eyes roll back and he collapses back onto your chest, losing his thrusting rhythm and chasing his climax. Cute little ah! ah! ah!s are forced out of him and one very adorable high pitched whine when he finally cums.

You let him lay there, catch his breath, as you rub his shoulders to chase away any tension in them. He looks up, almost looking startled "But wait! Y-you... Don't you..?"

You laugh and kiss his forehead "No darling, this night is about you and I can't be more delighted" you slowly pick him up and make your way towards the bath room.

You've spend many nights riddled with mind-numbing ecstasy before, but these tender nights - those that end with being in a warm, bubbly bath with Lucifer - will forever be your favorite.

hehe :3 how was it? i feel like it would do good with more parts? or should i just leave it like a one-shot? meh, let's see if inspiration strikes again

signing off, gambi

#sub! lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin x reader #sub!character #hazbin lucifer x reader

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thelittlestoflives · 4 months

Text

The Cook and the Chronicler

just another lil instalment in my sanji x chronicler!reader series!! in which the rest of the crew finds out about the two of them hehe

tell me what you guys think!! the love you've shown for my other two silly fics has brought me more joy than you know

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

sanji x strawhat!reader

no warnings unless you don't like swearing lolll, couple uses of YN, just self indulgent fluff

wc: 2k

“I don’t get it,” the swordsman grunted as the two of you sparred on deck.

“You’re gonna have to narrow that down for me,” you say through panting breaths, Zoro never was one for taking it easy on you. “I’m sure there’s lots you don’t get.”

He barked out a laugh, narrowing his eyes and sweeping your feet out from under you. You landed with a soft oof.

“You and that damn chef. That’s what I don’t get.”

You lay on your back trying to catch your breath. “What’s to get?”

He shrugged. “Dunno. He’s just so annoying I don’t know how you can stand to spend time with him.”

You sat up with a small groan and looked at your crewmate with a frown. “Who says I spend time with him?”

Zoro rolled his eyes but held out his hand to help you, which you gratefully accepted, taking a sip of water once you were standing.

“Oh, come off it, Chronicler. Do you think I’m stupid?” And upon seeing the smirk on your face followed up with: “Don’t answer that, you little shit.”

You crossed your arms and looked up at him. “I don’t know what you mean.”

At this stage, you and Sanji didn’t exactly have a label for what you were. Sure, you spent most (all) of your nights curled up beside him and sure, your eyes always looked for him no matter the situation you and your crew found yourselves in, but like… It wasn’t anything of concern for anyone else.

“It’s not like I care or anything,” Zoro countered, copying your stance. “But we’ve all noticed that curly brows is less…”

“Flamboyantly flirty?” You offer.

“Irritating, annoying, insufferable, enough that I could gouge my other eye out. But not by much.”

It was true that Sanji had become a more subdued version of himself. No longer did he feel any desire to flirt shamelessly with Robin, Nami, or any beautiful women they came across on various islands. That’s because he had you. Why on earth would his attentions divert anywhere else?

Zoro raised an eyebrow. “For someone who never shuts up, you’ve gone very quiet.”

“Well, ever thought maybe you’ve just gone soft and you actually might like the guy?”

He snorted. “No.”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever. Don’t see what business of yours it is anyway.”

He had a complete shit-eating grin on his face. “Struck a nerve, have I?”

“Shut up!”

“You’re in love with the waiter!”

You glare at him, but all witty comebacks die on your tongue. After all, he wasn’t wrong. You stuck your tongue out at him and flipped him off which he scoffed at, and made your way to the bathroom to wash your sweaty, post-training body.

Before you could step out of the bathroom, however, your way was blocked by an arm. “So, were you ever gonna tell me or did I have to find out from Usopp?!” Nami looked at you half-glaring, half-smirking.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you feign innocence, drying your hair with your towel.

“Hey! I thought we were friends!” She actually looked kind of hurt, and a pang of guilt jolted you. “I wish you came to me at the start!”

“Nami, you know I adore you, right?”

She nods.

“And if I had come to you and said I was seeing Sanji, would you or would you not have tried to talk me out of it?”

She paused, thinking. “Okay, yeah. I probably would’ve. So?!”

“What do you mean ‘so’?!”

Nami sighed. “Fair enough, I guess. But… Urgh, why him? Of all people! I love him like I love all of the crew but… Him? And besides, I thought you said you had sworn off of romance!”

You at least had the decency to look bashful. “Yeah, I did say that. Trust me, I didn’t plan for this. We just... I dunno, we see each other. Like, really see each other.”

“Ugh.” She pinched her nose and sighed. “Well, if nothing else, you both do seem happier. And he’s not as… Sanji-esque anymore, so I suppose that’s something.”

“See!” You said brightly, hugging her despite her protests that your hair was too wet. “Only good things can come of this, right? Now, if you excuse me, I think I need to have a little word with Usopp…”

“He’s up on deck with Chopper. Don’t go easy on him,” she grins, everything forgiven. “He’s telling everyone.”

Hair still wet, you march above deck to have a word with Mr Shit-Stirrer himself.

“Usopp!” You yell. There’s the sound of feet scrambling. “You can’t hide, you know.”

He steps out looking shameful. “Oh, hi YN. I wasn’t hiding at all, I promise! If I wanted to hide you’d never find me.”

Chopper came out behind him, looking confused. “Then why did you say ‘quick, I gotta hide’?”

Usopp laughed nervously. “That doesn’t sound like something I’d say.”

“But, you did! Is it because you’re telling everyone you saw Sanji and-”

Usopp swiftly pushes Chopper away, much to the little reindeer’s dismay.

You groan and cross your arms. “What are you telling everyone?”

He crossed his arms defiantly too. “Nothing.”

“Usopp…” You warn.

“I’m not telling anyone anything that isn’t true!”

Chopper came back over and hid behind your legs. “He says he saw you two kissing in the kitchen last night,” he giggled.

Your face flushed red. “Did he now? Thank you, Chopper.” You pat his head and he looks gleefully at Usopp who is glaring daggers at him.

He probably did see you kissing in the kitchen last night. It had been a few months since the two of you had started having your little midnight rendezvous, and you were definitely being less careful. It was kind of impressive how the others had only now started to notice.

“Well, I did!” Usopp protests.

“And you had to tell everyone?!” You hiss.

He cowers at your tone, beginning to look guilty. “I’m sorry YN! Forgive me!”

“We’ll see,” you say before heading back to the girls’ quarters. You can hear Chopper and Usopp bickering behind you.

You enter the room with a sigh, leaning against the door. Robin sits on her bed reading a book.

“YN?” She asks with concern. “What’s wrong? Is it because Usopp is telling everyone about you and Sanji?”

You bang your head against the door. “So he told you too then?”

She shakes her head. “No. I’ve known for a while.”

You gape at her. “Uh… What?”

“I heard you creeping out at night and saw Sanji bringing you back to bed one morning. Plus, he’s been slightly, hmm, less…”

“Less Sanji, so I’ve heard,” you sigh again.

“Why does it matter if everyone knows?” she asks as she closes her book.

You sit down on your bed and face her. “It doesn’t. I don’t know. It just felt very… Special. Secret. It only belonged to us, and now it belongs to everyone.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “I see. So it feels less sacred now? Like you’re sharing it with everyone else?”

“I guess so.”

“Have you spoken to him about it?”

You shake your head.

“Well, I suggest you go to the kitchen and talk about it with him. He might make you feel better.”

“You’re right, as usual,” you stand up and check yourself in the mirror. “I can’t believe you’ve known this whole time and didn’t say a word.”

She smiles slyly. “You’d be amazed at the things I know and don’t tell.”

“You’re scary, I love that.”

For whatever reason, you were nervous on that walk to the kitchen. You could hear the sound of knives chopping and Sanji humming to himself as you stood at the door, trying to build the courage to enter. With a breath, you push the door open.

The blonde chef turned around, ready to yell at Luffy for trying to come in before dinner was ready, his face softening exponentially as he saw it was you.

“Mon amour!” he said in a hushed voice, moving towards you to press a kiss to your head. His sleeves were rolled up at the elbow and he looked the way he did when he got lost in his cooking.

“Hey, Sanj,” you greet him, nerves dissipating as you look up into his face.

“Come, you have to try this!” He grabbed your hand and pulled you to the stove, lifting a spoon up to your mouth. As always, it was delicious and you made sure he knew.

His face brightened so much you thought he might burst. “So, sweetheart, what’s on your mind?” He asks, brushing your hair off your face. He could read you so well now.

“Well… Usopp saw us in the kitchen last night and told everyone so now they all know about us,” you say, inwardly cringing. “And I don’t know how I feel about it.”

Sanji’s face fell slightly. “I see. Are you…” He cleared his throat. “Embarrassed? Of… Me?”

Your face twisted into one of horror. “Oh god, no! No! Not at all!” You reach up to hold his face, looking into his eyes. “I could never be embarrassed of you. Don’t be silly, Sanj!”

You could’ve cried at the look of relief on his face.

“I don’t know how I feel about it because it was so special and uniquely ours, and now it’s some bit of gossip. I just feel like… What we have is so… It transcends anything, and it feels a disservice for it to be spoken about by anyone else.” You’re still holding his face gently, rubbing small circles with your thumb, his hands settled on your waist.

His face blossomed into a lovesick expression, and he looked like he might swoon. “I never tire of hearing how you feel about me,” he murmurs. “It blows me away every time.” His hands creep from your waist to your back as he peppers your face with kisses. “You really feel so strongly for me that the thought of others knowing hurts you. Mon cherie, I will never understand why you chose me, but will forever be grateful.”

All your concerns floated away like dandelions in the wind. Why would you ever be worried that others knowing would take away from what you had with this man?

“Let them know,” he proclaimed softly into your hair as he pressed another kiss. “Let them all know! Let every damn pirate crew know of the Strawhat Cook and Chronicler. Let them sing songs about our love for generations to come. In fact, I want everyone in this shitty world to know!” He picked you up and twirled you around as you laughed. He raised his voice. “Hear that, everyone? Me and YN are together!”

He put you down and put his fingers under your chin, tilting your face up to his.

“My darling YN… No one else matters to me, but you. That said,” he kissed your nose softly. “God, I’m glad everyone knows you’re mine.”

His lips meet yours in a passionate kiss, hot and desperate. His mouth was greedy, time slowed down around you both, as it always did. Your hands tangled in his hair and he groaned into your mouth,

“Sanjiiii, I’m hungry!” Came a whine behind the two of you as you both whipped around. “Oh, hey YN. Anyway, when’s dinner? I think I’m going to die of hunger.”

“GET OUT!” Sanji yelled, reaching behind him and throwing an empty pot in Luffy’s direction. “It’s ready when it’s ready!”

Luffy pouts and leaves the room. You and Sanji turn to look at each other, faces flushed both from the kiss and being caught. Then you both burst into laughter, and once again he pulled you to him.

“I love you, Sanj,” you whisper.

His eyes well with tears of joy, your sweet, lovesick cook.

“I love you more, darling YN.”

#one piece #sanji #blackleg sanji x reader #sanji x reader #sanji fluff #sanji drabble #sanji oneshot #sanji x you #sanji x yn #sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x reader #blackleg sanji x yn #blackleg sanji x you #one piece x you #op x you #strawhats x you #my writing

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heyitsme1040 · 7 months

Text

Teddy Barnes [b.b]

summary : You make a bear resembling Bucky. You worry he’ll think having a bear based on your significant other will be weird, but Bucky’s delighted by your gesture. He wants to make a bear of you as well.

pairings : Bucky Barnes x Reader

warnings : None (if I missed anything let me know!)

word count : 610

AO3 (x)

a/n : Day fifteen of Comfortember is here! The prompt was ‘plushies’. This was very self indulgent.

You felt silly walking into your apartment. The mall had been busy, but you were determined when you arrived. You’d been confident when you walked in, excited as you made the bear, and now you felt silly. You entered the apartment, calling out a quick greeting to let Bucky know you were home. You heard the shower running, so you curled up on the couch. You stared at the bear you’d made today. It was soft, and you couldn’t help smiling at it.

“Hi doll,” Bucky kissed your head as he walked through the living room. “How was the mall?”

“It was good,” you hugged the bear closer, trying to hide it.

“I’m glad. Did you find what you needed?”

“Yeah,” you sheepishly responded.

You heard Bucky grab a glass, then the tap running as he filled his cup. You wondered how weird he would find the bear you made. The soft bear comforted you from where you were squeezing it in your arms. Bucky’s quiet footsteps reached you before he walked into your view. He sat on the couch facing you, smiling as he pulled your legs into his lap.

“Hi,” his hand strokes your ankle.

“Hi,” you smiled back at him.

“What’d you get?”

“Oh! I just went to Build-A-Bear.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed as he tilted his head, “Build-A-Bear?”

“Yeah, it’s this store. You go in, and choose an unstuffed bear. Or other animals that they have there. Then you get it stuffed, choose the heart that goes in it, and you can add a sound. Once it’s stuffed, you choose clothes for it before making a birth certificate. You make a customized bear,” you shrug at your explanation.

Bucky nodded at your explanation. “So, what did you make?”

Your cheeks flushed as his attention was now focused on the bear in your hold. With an internal cringe, you pulled the bear away from you. Holding it to face Bucky, you offer the bear to him. Bucky took the dark brown bear. Looked at the little black henley that was under the denim vest, noticed the way you’d tucked the boots into its dark jeans.

“I made a mini you,” you explained. “This is Teddy Barnes. And if you squeeze his paw…” You reached out and pressed the plastic box in its paw. Bucky’s voice came through with an ‘I love you, doll’ that you had saved in your voice memos. “I know it’s probably kind of weird, but I just thought it’d be nice for when you’re on missions. Or if I just wanted a cuddle and you were busy.”

“This is really sweet,” Bucky lightly laughed. “It’s adorable.”

You quickly tugged Teddy Barnes out of Bucky’s hold, hugging it tight against you once again. “You don’t have to say that,” you snap. “I know it’s probably really weird. But–”

Bucky’s lips pressed to yours stops your rant before it could start. His hands cupped your head, holding you in place. You felt all defensive instinct drain out of you from the soft movement of the kiss. Bucky pulled back to breath, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I was being serious,” he panted. “It’s the sweetest thing anyone has done. I love it. I love you,” Bucky pressed another kiss to your flushed skin.

“I love you,” you whispered past the emotions building in your chest.

“And now I really want to make one of you, too. Can keep it in my duffle during missions. Have it on the bed with Teddy Barnes when we go places. Can’t have them getting lonely when we’re busy, now can we?”

You smiled widely, nodding at his question. “That sounds great,” you giggle.

Author’s Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.

©heyitsme1040 If you find this post on any platform under a username different than heyitsme1040 it is not their work.

#fanfiction #fanfic blog #fanfiction writer #comfortember 2023 #comfortember #comfort fic #marvel fanfiction #marvel #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes

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residenthughes · 1 year

Text

square one

pairing: leon kennedy x gender neutral reader

word count: 1.6K

tags/warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, some angst, leon's dealing with some insecurities (acne) :(

summary: leon's always struggled with acne. a recent flareup brings up more than he bargained for.

notes: think i saw a post about the texture of leon's skin in the re4r, as well as a headcannon that he sometimes picks at his skin and idk, just felt compelled to write this. i struggled (still do) with hyperpigmentation from acne, so this was low-key self-indulgent (and me projecting, sorry leon 😭) so enjoy(?) the fruits of that! one more exam and i'll be active again (in between celebrating any chance that i get that exams are over) hope you enjoy! :)

He feels like a teenager again.

Full of angst and riddled with insecurity. There’s so much curiosity in his eyes, fingers gingerly grazing against the scarlet surface of his cheek with inflamed pimples. Leon thought he outgrew this. Despite the occasional picking at his skin when submerged in the anxieties that live rent free in his mind, his skin remained relatively calm rain or shine. It’s worst was when he was in high school, so awkward and unsure of everything. Redness dotted against his face, he felt like puberty brought out the worst in him, forced him to grow in a body now foreign to him, navigate the unknown territory that were his new feelings. It’s a time that isn’t all that nostalgic for him and when he stands in your shared bathroom, long into his adulthood - 27 years old - staring into his reflection, his life flashes before his eyes. He’s right back where he was. Nerdy and hesitant.

He feels so small.

“Hey,” your call for his attention is soft, doused in all gentleness you can muster as you quietly observe your partner from the door frame. “You ok? Tea’s getting cold.”

Leon huffs in annoyance, not meaning to but when his eyes catch sight of how inflamed his skin is, it takes him gnawing inside his cheek to stop himself from spiralling. It’s so silly, insignificant even. Leon never really cared much for his appearance as an adult. Reminded fairly neutral in regards to himself, stance never swayed despite those that fell to his feet bewitched by his devastatingly good looks. His stance shifted when you two met. Suddenly, he was a teenager again, but in a good way. Do I smell good? Is my hair ok? Am I overdressed? All these little curiosities combated by the love you embrace him in. He doesn’t become confident - your love is not a fix-all remedy for years of trauma and insecurity. But he becomes more sure of himself, reassured and loved wholly. He picks up his own pieces, slowly but surely. You simply steer him in the right direction. A beautiful thing, a lovely thing.

In spite of this beautiful thing, Leon can get in his own way sometimes. Stares at his reflection too long when he’s been spiralling and simply meets your gaze with a vulnerability reserved only for you. “Skin’s been acting up.”

“Honey,” you approach him cautiously, like he’s made of porcelain and Leon leans into the gentleness without a care in the world. Your hands never make contact with him, knowing any touch might open the floodgates of emotional turmoil that slowly seep into his bloodstream, poisonous and harrowing in nature. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

He grimaces, eyes avoiding yours as he shrinks into himself. “Been a stressful week is all.”

Leon flashes an unconvincing smile, puffing out a beat of laughter that is all but amused. “Guess this is the result of it, huh?”

Your heart sinks. You remember when this came up early in your relationship. You were often seeing each other, whether it was to go out on the town dressed to the nines or lounge around and snack on whatever junk food (of which there was very little in Leon’s apartment) you two could find. He refused to see you, citing long work days and the lack of energy they left him with as his reasons. You respected his wishes, giving him his space and all the time he needed before finding his way back to you. However, you couldn’t ignore the voice at the back of your head, nudging you towards him with pleas of assurance. Reassurance that he was ok and wasn’t deserting you for reasons you could help with.

You bumped into him on his way back from the grocery store.

Against his better judgement, Leon needed to restock his shelves with leafy greens to rid himself quickly of the acne against his cheeks. He knew you were at work, so he took his chance and sped ran through the isles, mask pulled up to his eyes as he simply went about his business. Packing his grocery bags quickly and making big steps towards his car, only to run into you in the parking lot.

He expects you to drop your belongings. Dramatises the whole scene in his head, imagines your face twisting in disgust and murmuring a half-hearted excuse to leave the conversation early to block his number because his insecurities have gotten the best of him and he can’t think any worse of himself than he is now.

It’s all fiction, the tragic story he paints in his head. Sees you give a small smile, cautious and coy.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he muses, the awkwardness of his predicament leaving him with nothing but the desire for the ground to swallow him whole. “Would have dressed up a bit.”

You laugh a bit, easing the pain but Leon still wants to leave regardless, foot pointed away from you with his body slightly turning towards the direction of his car.

You take note of his body language and make the conversation flow as casually as possible. “Yeah, I got off work early and was actually gonna pick up some things to come see you.”

“See me?”

“Yeah, think it’s to be expected to want to see your partner.” you joke lightheartedly, eying the tension that leaves Leon’s shoulders as they relax back from his ears.

“That’s sweet of you,” Leon starts. “But, I’ve gotta head back to the office…printer’s jammed.”

“Again?”

It ‘jammed’ last week. Along with some other atrocities that left Leon MIA all last week and this week too. It’s not too long to question, but the distance between you is growing unlike times before. It unsettles you.

“Can’t work that thing to save my life. So, it’s my obligation to fix it.”

“Leon,” you’re seeing through his act, calling for the denouement to the charade Leon orchestrates. He feels sickly doing this - this isn’t what you deserve, he knows that. But, during one of scarce times in his life that he’s self-conscious, is it so horrible to want to be left alone? “You’ve been a bit MIA recently. You sure you’re holding up alright?”

He questions for a moment telling you. Disclosing his recent flare up because he knows it isn’t a bad deal, especially with you who nurtures a safe space for him to call home. And he does, he goes to tell you, but in a desperate attempt for closeness, you step forwards and he’s stepping back and suddenly there’s a deafening silence between the two of you.

“I didn’t mean-”

“It’s ok,” you reassure, time and time again. His heart hurts from the constant push and pull that plagues your relationship. It wasn’t something you had to deal with. “Just talk to me. Please?”

It’s different seeing you like this. Over text, it’s easier (but not impossible) to tap away at the screen and desert his phone, submerging himself in work to fend off any thoughts that attempt to crawl into his brain. But you’re here, right in front of him. Eyes soft and so unbearably honest with your state of being. It tears him up inside. Makes him acknowledge every attempt to distance himself from you and never do it again if the same circumstances arose.

Leon makes the situation right. Approaches you despite the screams at the back of his head and heads back to his apartment with you sitting in the passenger seat, describing the acne flare ups that in spite of the demons he faces on his missions, makes him react like no other. You comfort him as best as possible, listening to every word he says and not bothering with unsolicited advice or shallow comments that won’t help the situation. You simply craft an evening filled with distractions, all his favourite in-home activities whilst showering him with all the affection he’s missed. And when it comes time to wash up and settle into bed, you make light of the situation, giving him one of the Sanrio headbands you had left in his apartment as you two clean up for the night, the space and comfort you give him enough for him to crawl into your arms under the covers and never let go. It’s an act of service, a day, that he’ll never forget. One that allows him to bare himself to you, years later, and let you take the reins because this, on top of the travesties he’s encountered far too often lately, have made him feel like a shell of himself.

“It’s hard to keep up with everything when you’re so busy, isn’t it?” He nods. “You’ve been working hard, always have. Saving the world isn’t an easy feat, you know?”

He laughs, this time around humoured. “I wouldn’t exactly say that.”

“Well, whatever you do,” he laughs again and you can see him slowly coming back to you. You flash him a smile, a smile that holds timeless tales of your love story and his heart begins to warm. “It’s perfectly normal to get some R&R afterwards. It’s well deserved, especially in your case.”

He simpers, now having worked up the nerve to look into your eyes and in them, sees that dazzle. The same dazzle from your first glance, from your first confession. Even at his lowest, the dazzle remains. Your love, unwavering. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for you, all of which he does when he feels like himself again. Showers you in abundance and more because that’s what you deserve and more.

“How about I run us a hot bath? You can tell me all about the printer jamming whilst I wash your hair, yeah?”

He feels like a teenager again. This time, abundant in all the love he has for you.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #re4r #leon kennedy fanfic #resident evil 4 remake #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy imagine #re4r leon #resident evil #resident evil 4 fanfic #resident evil fanfic #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy imagine #my fics

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tachimichishrine · 6 months

Text

"broken and fixed again"

⫭◦⨝◦⫬

dazai osamu x fem! reader {hospital AU}

warnings: nsfw ; literally 1 fingering scene the rest is fluff ; mentions of suicide; not an actual au just a scenario ; fluff but it's just complaining abt your joints ; reader teases the living sh out of him bc flustered and soft dazai needs to be more mainstream ; makes him wear a nurse outfit with the power of words ; slight tw blood and pain i love seeing the silly in agony ; intended lowercase ; cursing ; so so so self indulgent i just got my second surgery in the span of 5 months dw im fine just dramatic as hell and my hospital neighbors are all gilfs

"haaaaaaah..."

dazai wasn't on any pain medications, so there was no way he was imagining that sound.

"haaaaaaaaaaahhhh..."

the day after being shot by fyodor, he wound up in the hospital due to his inability to be cured by yosano. it wasn't a big deal; he'd dealt with worse before, obviously. you don't spend as much time in the port mafia as he does and come out fully unscathed, after all.

"haaaa-"

then a slumping noise as if a body collapsed onto the ground. he was still on bed arrest, but he was growing restless being locked in the room all day with himself. the nurse who was tending to him seemed to be rather cold, but he knew that she'd turn to puddy for him shortly if he actually tried.

he groaned a little bit while getting up, fingertips grazing the paper thin clothing they were given at the spot where the bullet had pierced him. softly footsteps fell on the squeaky clean floor, and his head peaked outside his doorframe to look around for the source of the sound.

you were on the ground with a walker collapsed next to you.

pleasantly intrigued, he shot a quick glance at your facial expressions to check whether or not you were truly in agony, which you weren't. in fact, you seemed just as bored as he did. your arms spread out your sides like wings and your legs were tussled awkwardly as he guessed you were trying to keep the cheap clothing from revealing your butt-naked figure.

"oiii, psst psst," he called out, hand flattened next to his mouth as if he were whispering to you intimately in the empty hallway.

you tilted your head backwards, looking at him upside-down with what was an inarguably listless expression.

"heyyyyy," you seemed to be almost slurring your words, and he guessed you were hooked on enough meds to make a small fortune if sold on the streets. "wh-whooo... who are youuuu?"

a few steps forward and dazai was standing over you. he carefully lowered himself, his eyes scanned you again and a smirk played on his lips.

"that's quite the act," he snickered, which caused you to let out a groan.

truth is, you weren't on enough pain medication to get to that high. however, it had been a week since you were admitted, and you were losing your mind doing nothing all day. the operation went well, but there was always a high risk of infection or post-op complications and they'd insisted you stayed 10 days for observation. you tried chatting with the nurses, tried exploring the place, tried sleeping to recover faster but every solution tired out after a while.

they gave you a few tools to navigate your surroundings, one of which was the damn walker. you'd done crutches and mobility aids before, casts, splints and braces, but no one liked the walkers. they made you feel like you were a hundred years old, and your body might as well be.

so, you decided you'd collapse and see what happens, how long it takes someone to come find you, rescue you and make your day just a little less boring. you settled yourself onto the ground, threw the walker and got comfy on the floor.

the man who approached you seemed a bit concerned at first, but he appeared to see through your games annoyingly quickly and called you out on it without even pausing to indulge. you let out a puffy pout and crossed your arms. "mannn, no one here is any fun."

you caught a glimpse of bandages wrapped around nearly every one of his extremities, almost like a decoration more than anything else. you slowly turned yourself and shuffled your body so you were sitting down facing upwards to look at him.

"what're you in for?" you asked with a snicker, getting over the fact your plan hadn't worked because he seemed to be relatively normal and you sure could use a conversation right now. "armed robbery? assault and battery? tax evasion?"

"you wouldn't believe me if I told you," he mimicked your expression, piquing your intrigue with a sly grin. you couldn't help but notice he was incredibly pretty, and you quickly developed another hospital crush; you roamed the hallways enough to identify the regulars but not enough to actually speak to any of them, and having stupid crushes on just about everyone kept your mind mildly active.

"what, you got jumped by an elite ninja squadron or something?"

before he could retort, clicking of heels resonated from the end of the hallway. the pace picked up when the nurse saw two patients laying down on the floor with a toppled walker, calling for some kind of a code. you giggled mischievously even when she realized you were fine and helped you up. the man who's been with you for a few seconds also received a verbal beating while responding just like you did.

your hands went to the metal of the walker, and you rolled your eyes while deciding you'd try to come back this way and speak to him again at night when they were understaffed and no one was going to pester you. you were barely beginning your plans to escape yet again when something deep within your body that had been altered recently felt like it burst. it didn't, but the pain and the sight of the blood you were coughing violently onto the floor made you rack your brain over the long list of possible complications.

fuck.

you fell onto the ground again, but this time it was painfully real. wafting in and out of consciousness until you couldn't tell if you were fainting, having a seizure or if something else had happened. the nurse turned around too late to catch you, but quickly yelled out that code from before and instructed the man go and get help immediately.

your body felt so broken.

you were never more pissed off to see the damn white drapes, walls and the same old view out the window accompanying that damn beeping.

your finger was clamped in some device reading your heartbeat, and a bunch of sensors were hooked up all over your skin. your head was groggy, a stiff pulsation throbbing at the back like you'd given yourself a concussion.

"mmmmn..." a languid groan was all you could manage; your throat was dry and you felt like you could eat the ekg right now. you wavering in and out of a daze for a few minutes while you tried both to fight off the sleep and fight off the day.

a knock at your door roused your attention once more. your neck hurt too much to crane over and take a look, but you could definitely hear the door closing.

"oh, it's you," you said, the bandaged man making another appearance. "sorry about today. I didn't mean to fake it 'til I made it."

the laugh at your own joke hurt your chest and you tried not to cough.

"it's actually been a bit longer than you think," he mused while sitting at the foot of your bed.

you hastily cut off any word that he was thinking of saying. "don't tell me! I have 3 days left before getting discharged, and I'd rather it come earlier as a surprise than right on time."

you did not ask him why he was here, assuming he must be in the same exasperated position. instead, you asked him your question again from the other day.

"or at least your name," you added. "I gotta know to whom I owe the honour of a visit. the nurses must really like you to let you pull a stunt like this."

he chuckled, mostly to himself. "oh, you've got no idea."

despite his weird way of talking like everything was a riddle and he was a spy of some sorts, the man - whose name you learnt was dazai osamu - was not so bad. he lent you his phone (you had no idea how he had managed to get away with this kind of thing) for you to call some close friends, and listened patiently while you told him how you'd ended up in this hospital bed. he however did not explain what happened to him, nor why he had all those bandages all over himself.

he didn't say much at all, to be completely honest. you blabbered long enough for the daylight to cease seeping in from your curtains, and it was dark when you were both laying down side by side in the tiny bed looking up at the ceiling in silence.

"thanks for stopping by," you hummed, eyes closed but a slow smile on your lips. "didn't think I charmed you that much with my hospital charisma. you should see what I'm like at full power."

you didn't need to open your eyes to know he was smiling back. "anytime, darling."

another chuckle at his words and another long pause. you didn't like the soft humming of the machines around you, but it was different when you weren't alone. heavy eyelids combined with steady beeping led you to start slipping asleep when he spoke up again.

"you wanna know what landed me here?"

damn him for choosing now to tell you. you stirred uncomfortably, body smushed against his while you tried to lay down on your side to face him, but it was incredibly uncomfortable and you quickly retreated back to the hellish laying on your back. you actions spurred him to continue.

"I was shot," he admitted nonchalantly. he seemed to be examining his nails and yawning like he wanted to emphasize just how much he didn't care much for the words he said.

"so my ninja theory wasn't so far off, then," you chuckled for a lack of a better response. "what'd the bullet pierce?"

dazai would never admit that he was mildly impressed that you didn't ask about who had shot him, or why. "the doctor said I'm a 'lucky bastard', because it missed all my vitals."

you have taken note of where the wound was, and confirmed again when he said that because he must really be lucky to miss out on death and major complications if he got shot in the abdomen and it missed all the important things in there.

"your doc sounds like they wanted you to have some damage," you remarked, gaze back on his face. maybe you were particularly tired, but his eyes felt so dreamy when he smiled. you decided you'd ask him out once you got out of the hospital.

"oh, she definitely did," he agreed, "but she's an old friend and I think all my coworkers were hoping for something more serious."

"kinda sounds like you did too."

he considered what to say; his double-suicide jokes felt incredibly out of place in this environment full of people desperately trying to cling on to life. even if you seemed to pick up on the general direction of what he was implying, he shook his head and turned it towards you.

"are you implying that I'm a masochist?" said with a sly smirk.

"are you denying it?" you mimicked his tone.

he did not, in fact, deny it. you fell asleep shortly afterwards teasing him about it, and he just took it with a stupid grin on his face. your head fell limp onto the pillow, and he only began to be convinced you weren't just pretending again when your jaw slowly dropped down to slightly open your mouth ungracefully and let out a soft snore.

he could've gotten away with falling asleep beside you, but he didn't know how his nurse would feel about seeing him in bed with another woman.

two knocks at his open door signaled your presence.

"no walker," he said, showing you that he was impressed with an exaggerated nod of approval. "next thing I know, you'll be running marathons around the entire wing."

you huffed proudly, thinking about flopping onto his bed but your body wasn't quite ready to be thrown around just yet. "ahh, I wish. I've been told I need to stay an extra week because of my little incident. how's your timeline looking?"

he put up a four, indicating how many days until he abandoned you. faking a sorrowful sob, you wrapped your hands around his leg and hugged it like a child trying to get their parents to stay. "nuh uh, you're not! what happened to 'til death do us part'? was I the only one who said those vows?"

"apologies, my dear wife," he bowed apologetically, snickering. "I guess I'll just have to injure myself to come back to you~"

your frown was instantaneous and serious as you scooched up on the bed. "hey, don't joke about that kind of stuff. my old roommate was recovering from an attempt and she had it rough. I hate it when people joke about suicide just to sound funny."

oh.

dazai was lucky that all the members of the ada were too busy to come and visit him, because judging by your reaction, you would genuinely hate him if they heard kunikida call him a suicidal bastard or ranpo ask him why he's in the hospital if he wants to die. you may have been faking a crisis playfully the first time you met, but he felt a little ashamed lying in your presence with how truthful you were about your emotions. he admired it, but didn't know if he envied it too.

"anyways, I have something for you," you winked at him, then reached into the sleeve of your hospital gown and pulled out a simple flower. it was disheveled and barely alive, but some of the colour was still there and your smile was bright enough to compensate. "ta da!!"

"I thought flowers were not allowed in this hospital?" he raised a brow, a subtle pink dusting his cheeks at the action despite his typical unaffected demeanor and the fact that this gift was incredibly insignificant. his fingers held the stem delicately as you seemed proud that he liked it.

"they aren't!" you beamed with a giggle. "kai - the boy a few doors down from me - his girlfriend brought him some and that one really mean nurse threw them out. I was walking by the garbage and picked the best one for you."

he watched you shift closer when you finished speaking and laughed. "trash flowers."

"reminds me of you."

"ouch! I think I'm gonna need more pain meds from that sting!"

you called him a goof and continued to tell him about the rest of the hospital lore. he had been holding the flower for quite some time, and you asked what he was planning on doing with it. he asked you to fetch him one of those ridiculously tiny plastic cups at the drinking water stations and fill it up. the dying flower sunk into the water delicately while positioned on his bedside table.

responding to your remark that the nurses will have to throw it out if he let it out in the open, he reassured you that that won't be a problem. he still refused to reveal to you his methods, though.

day came and went; you finally asked him if he'd be interested in going out with you once you were both recovered; he did you one better and kissed you under the moonlight.

you didn't care that the walls of the hospital rooms were thin; it was good when you were collapsed and the dull thud could mean the difference between life and death.

however, it made what you were doing even riskier.

"fuck... fuuuck, osamu take... mmn take it easy," you murmured against his lips, thighs parted as his fingers reached deep enough to get you shaking.

he was laying on his side, supporting his weight on his forearm while he buried his other hand into you with slow, calculated movements. neither of you were fully recovered and as much as you wanted to slam him against something and grind on him until he was a babbling mess, you weren't in a state to try just yet.

instead, dazai was spending his last night in the hospital making your thighs twitch and chest heave. things progressed fast after the first kiss, especially since the two of you had nothing to do all day but speak to the other. he occasionally got calls on his phone where he had to excuse himself to take it, but other than that you didn't have much else on your minds except each other.

he took you on a date to the cafeteria and offered you a fine dining experience (junk food he beat out of the vending machines) complete with the most exquisite wine pairing (a pack of juice boxes).

you took him on the next, sneaking into rooms where you most definitely weren't supposed to be wandering and broke into the nurse's lounge. you both stole uniforms and changed, although you had to admit he pulled off the dress rather well. you got him to throw on the tightest size he could fit into, and he did a little catwalk in his formfitting outfit. none of the staff caught you making out in the supply closet.

and the third day was simply another moment of lounging in each other's rooms and talking about nothing. he accidentally dozed off and woke up an hour later to your fingers tenderly running through his hair. he gave you the side eye, receiving a kiss on his temple as a response. dazai retaliated with a kiss of his own, and suddenly you were carefully trying to lay down on him to kiss him deeper, better, but your groans were of pain and not pleasure and he offered to swap positions.

and fuck, was this man talented. you were happy just looking at him and muttering about how pretty you thought he was, but he was a lot more sensitive to your little teases and fingers exploring the outline of his body than he let on, and he had pushed up the bottom of your gown to get in between your thighs.

"nnng... ahh, do that again," you rasped out as his thumb rubbed your clit with slowly, languid motions. "is this your... mmmnnn... your way of feeling guilty for leaving me haaah... here all by myself?"

"sorry," he quipped, albeit not looking sorry at all with that lazy grin as he looked at you through low lashes. "I haven't even left yet and you miss me."

your hips buckled painfully as a jolt surged through your body and made you muffle a moan into the side of his neck. "hey, I said take it easy. can't have me extending my stay just 'cause you fucked me good."

he promised he'd do his best, but only thrust into you with harsher movements once he saw you purse your lips to keep from whimpering. you called him a little shit, but that just seemed to make him even more smug.

a nurse heard you cry out, rushing to check up on you; they didn't see dazai hidden on the other side of your hospital bed while you explained that you just had a nightmare and woke up suddenly, promising to keep it down. they just sighed, walking out with a frustrated shake of their head as dazai popped back up and giggled along with you. you leaned your head over the edge of the bed, holding his face in your hands so you could kiss him again.

"miss, please wake up. it's time for your medication, and you have a visitor."

you weren't sleeping. how could you, when it was your first night not crawling into dazai's bed to talk yourself to sleep? he was finally recovered enough to leave, and all you could do was ask him for his number so you could call him once you were out. 3 more days wasn't quite bad, but it was already piled on top of the countless ones that had passed. boredom was even more bitter once you'd tasted the sweetness of a friend.

reluctantly, pills dropped into your hand were thrown into your mouth and swallowed dry under the watchful gaze of the nurse. he didn't seem to particularly like you, but you supposed he had a right to when you kept breaking all the rules they had.

"what do I have to do to be next?" a smug voice resonated from the doorframe, lanky frame leaning against the wood as he watched you swallow.

you felt well enough to get up and give him a hug, but he beat you to it and leaned down to kiss your forehead. he sat on the edge of the bed and stroked your hair out of your face with the kind of shallow loving nature he seemed to have on by default. it took a few hours together for that to wear off and for his actions to begin feeling genuine again, but you never commented about it. you supposed everyone did that to a certain extent and you were just a little hyperaware of his giveaways.

"I didn't think you'd come back this soon," you admitted, trying to scooch on the bed so he could sit next to you as you used to. he seemed however to shake his head a little.

"I can't stay long, dear, duty calls," he said, but the look you gave him showed that you didn't believe that one bit. it didn't take much for him to give in and curl up by your side, clinging onto your body with a childish expression on his features. "this persuasive with nothing but your eyes, did I ever tell you how incredibly talented you are?"

"you did not, in fact. please do it more often," you chuckled, ruffling his hair and kissing him on the crown of his head twice before pulling him into your chest, his nose nuzzling in your neck right under your ear. you swept your hand across your body to hold him, but your iv was still in and it nearly got tangled in your limbs as well. "if you've gotta go, then why are you here, osamu?"

he gasped dramatically, turning towards the entrance. "nurse, nurse please get me something to fix my broken heart! my sweetheart doesn't want me here! on my surprise visit!"

the nurse seemed like he really was about to come in, but much more likely to be in order to remove your problematic visitor than hand him a first aid kit and fix his "broken heart". you shushed him, laughing hysterically as he got all of his melodramatic needs out of the way, asking you if you've considered giving him your house in your will, asking how long you wanted him to mourn you. refreshing, he was refreshing. a breath of fresh air after all these stuffy hours spent in the hospital.

"do you really need to go?" you asked, cradling his cheek with your palm and rubbing slow circles with your thumb. "have you just come to remind me what I can't have, osamu? how cruel of you. you may have been the one shot but I'm pretty sure you just twisted the knife in my back."

he enjoyed your playful banter, but this time a more serious look was on his face. you tilted your head to the side, watching him curiously, trying to analyze his movements and figure out why he was acting weird when suddenly, he grabbed the trashcan from next to him and coughed into it.

"oh my god— osamu, hey, oh fuck, that's blood..." you swore to yourself, calling out loudly for the nurse as well as pressing the emergency button you had on your bedside while you got to his side and held him softly, unsure what to do. he always seemed so above all of this, the treatment, the pain, the entire hospital even, that it felt shocking to watch him cough up more and more blood into the can, rasping without a single witty comment in between.

you combed your fingers through his hair, pulling all of it out of his face as if you'd both been hungover college girls waking from a rough night. the blood seemed to be easing up, but he was wincing and holding his hand to the spot where he said that he'd gotten shot.

"osamu, baby, try to breathe for me. in through your nose, as slow as you can manage. help is on its way, they're going to find out what happened and you're going to be okay, alright? you can't die, we spent all this time discussing my funeral plans and not yours, so I'm not ready," you joked, partly out of habit but mostly because you wanted him feeling reassured as you held him and waited for someone to come in and fix everything.

he seemed to try to say something, but you clicked your tongue and wiped the mixture of saliva and blood from the corner of his lips with your finger. "don't try to say anything. store every asshole remark you want to make in your head and tell it to me later, once everything has passed. 'cause it's going to pass, osamu, it always does. you're going to be fine."

you glanced down at his shirt, noticing the widening pool of crimson in his chest, and hoped that you were right.

you were discharged, but feeling more sick than ever. pacing back and forth in the waiting room, you resisted the urge to go to the receptionist and ask her about his condition again, only to be told that a, you aren't immediate family and therefore can't be informed, and b, she didn't have any information about his anyways.

dazai had been taken into surgery to fix what sounded like ruptured stitches (he was pushing himself too much and they burst, according to what you understood) and you refused to leave without knowing how he was doing.

the wait was long, agonizing and you contemplated faking a relapse of your illness just to get inside and see for yourself, but quickly convinced yourself that you're not that desperate. yet. a doctor walked out, spoke briefly to the receptionist who pointed at you with a look full of attitude. you sighed out of relief, figuring this meant you were finally getting an update.

"so, the doctor told me that your surgery went well and you'd be alright in a few days if you actually followed their words this time," you finished recounting, holding dazai's hand and pressing soft kisses to his knuckles in between sentences. "then you, my sleeping beauty, took two lovely hours just to wake up. I slept a little while waiting, so if you find some drool on your sheets... technically, that's your fault."

drowsy, half-conscious but still able to weakly chuckle at your words. his fingers twitched a little in your grasp, so you just continued to hold him tenderly while he let out drawn-out gasps as he adjusted to being awake.

"try to focus on my voice," you offered, knowing all too well the experience of waking up and wanting to slither out of your body. "don't think about the pain, don't try to convince yourself that you're stronger than it. just listen to me, okay?"

he whispered a soft "okay" to let you know that he was going to try, and you smiled against the back of his hand.

"tonight, I'm going to stay here with you," you begun reciting, almost like a fairy tale that should've started with once upon a time. "I'll sneak into the cafeteria, talk to my guy to get you the good stuff, y'know the green jell-o that everyone is jealous of? tomorrow, I'll put you on a wheelchair and we can go terrorize the nurses again. the day after, we can just stay in bed and I'll kiss you all better so that the following day, I can give you a ride home and we can finally get the hell out of this boring place."

his grip on your hand slightly tightened, and you watched his face flush a soft pink. you checked his temperature, wondering if he was spiking a fever already, but realized it was the rosiness of a blush. you giggled at him and his flusteredness, holding him near and continuing with more tales of ridiculously detailed date plans.

he fell asleep again once you'd gotten to your plans on day 43, but you kept going until you got told visiting hours were over and you had to leave. you kissed his sweaty forehead and swore you saw him smile faintly as you walked out.

you did everything you told him you'd do.

you got him the treats he wanted, noticing how he was especially shy around you when you started bringing him the little trinkets. you bought him real flowers, too, making sure you hid them as well as possible from the hospital staff, but you were already professionals at this point.

after his incident, you learned about a softer side to dazai, one that led him to blushing and losing his words when you complimented him instead of responding with his own. you would surprise him with a spontaneous fashion show featuring the hospital's limited assortment of clothing options, or wearing the nurse's uniform again as you pretended to be helping him take his meds and reminding him to take it easy.

and he did. dazai finally listened, allowing you to pamper him and actually voicing when his pain was getting bad. he mentioned briefly, on a single occasion, that his past job involved a lot of physical pain, but you sensed that you shouldn't bring it up any further. you just let him fall asleep, over and over again, in your arms and never rushed him. the best thing was that you could pretend at work that you were still gone on medical leave, so no one bothered you while you stayed with him.

"does it bother you that I'm always around?" you asked softly on one occasion, helping him to and from the bathroom after spending nearly 30 straight minutes joking about piss kinks. "I don't mean to be too much, constantly by your side. I know some people get kinda annoyed when you care too much, too soon."

dazai, walking with his arm over your shoulder so you could support some of his weight as he made his way back to the bed, seemed to have his legs give out suddenly. your reflexes were fast, and you swooped down to catch him, his body arched backwards as you looked down at him like you had been dancing the tango.

the sneaky bastard smiled at you.

"you're cute when you worry," he said simply, and you briefly considered dropping him out of spite. instead, you kissed him and slowly brought him onto the bed. even more cautiously, you sat down on his lap, little to no weight actually being placed on him as you supported yourself on your parted knees. "hm? what's this? what happened to being worried about being too much?"

you ignored his taunt and sat there for a few minutes, just holding him, kissing him and whispering everything that went through your mind. "surely you aren't complaining, are you, sweetheart? yeah, I didn't think so."

it was harder for him to sit still than it was to endure the pain; he slowly got weaned off the medication, but at the same time he was strictly forbidden from going out, using his phone or seeing many people.

on the day of his discharge, you begged him to let you drive him home. he said that it wasn't your responsibility, that he would manage, but the man he was calling sounded like he wanted dazai to rot away in the hospital for the rest of his life.

"all of that because you don't do your paperwork?" you asked with a chuckle, sitting by his side with his belonging in a bag on your lap, waiting for him to finish his call with his friend from work, if you could call that friendship. "really, I told you that I don't mind. let me drive you home, I'm sure this kuni... kunikida guy will appreciate it. what exactly is your problem with that?"

"I like to maximize my time spent annoying kunikida," he explained sensibly with a grin, groaning slightly as he got up and sat back down on the wheelchair. you placed the bag on his lap and began wheeling him towards the exit while he continued. "it's been too long since I've been a pain in his ass, sooooo..."

"is that an excuse 'cause you don't want me seeing your place?"

he gasped loudly, gathering the attention of all that you passed by. "dear, I swear that I'm a good liar. how do you see through me so quickly?!"

"the same way you see through me, I suppose," you laughed softly. "and if you don't feel ready to have me so much as see your home, I don't mind, I'm a patient woman. get it? patient. it's a hospital joke."

your understanding of nearly every curveball he threw at you was too much, and quite frankly he couldn't handle it. every time he tried to push you away, gain some distance because you were getting too comfortable with him emotionally, too close to the parts of him that he didn't keep guarded, you somehow managed to take a step back without hating him or demanding more. he'd always been the type to let women fall for him, that's true, but you weren't asking for anything in return and he just didn't get it.

that was the reason dazai couldn't let you take him home, not because he was ashamed of where he lived but because your relationship was confined within the walls of this hospital and he was afraid of what would happen if you continued outside of them.

it was also the reason he found himself crying once you finally brought him to the front entrance of the hospital, about to check one more time with him that he refused to get a ride with you when you noticed his tears. panicked, you looked at his chest for signs of blood, his face for signs of fever or pain, anything physical.

"osamu, is everythi— nmmf!"

he'd never kissed you like that before, grabbing your face while you crouched down to look at him and just feel you, all of you, on his tongue. desperate and needy, like he'd never touched you before or like you were some kind of lifesaving drug (which you must've been: he hadn't thought about suicide in weeks, hadn't joked about it, hadn't asked someone to a double-suicide. the prospect felt so foreign, ridiculous when he thought about never seeing you again). in the middle of the lobby, you were practically making out all of a sudden which was why you had to pull away temporarily and look at him, confused.

you didn't ask him why he did that. you just laughed (he loved the sound of your laugh) and called him impatient. yet somehow, both of your gazes met and there seemed to be some kind of mutual understanding of the feelings involved. you were so genuine about your emotions that he both psychologically and physically broke.

he was silent as you wheeled him to your car, helped him in and told him to wait as you returned the wheelchair. he sat down, looking at the mess, the faint chaotic smell that somehow matched you perfectly and relaxed into the passenger seat. when you came back, asking him for his address, he opened his mouth meekly to ask if he could stay with you for a few days since he knew he would slack off on the meds and eat junk food if he was living alone again. he almost looked embarrassed as he asked it, looking down at his hands instead of at you.

he wasn't wearing his bandages. in truth, they'd been cut off since he had that emergency surgery, but he never put them back on. dazai told himself that it was because he liked to feel your skin on his, but deep down he knew that it was much more than that.

too quickly. dazai osamu fell in love too quickly and he didn't know how to make it slow down.

"osaaaaaaamuuuuuu!" you called out, trying to wake him up at 6 in the morning. "time for your medicationnnnnn!"

he pretended to snore, and you pretended not to notice his tricks.

you stood there, hand on your hip, sweaty as you were just back from your morning exercise. trying to keep your health in the kind of shape that you wouldn't have to go back to the hospital was nice, but the early mornings took a while to get used to. luckily, it helped that you had your snoring boyfriend as a natural alarm clock.

"oh, he's sleeping? that sure is a shame," you dramatically pouted, setting the small cup with the pills down on the bedside in fake dejection and loudly walking over to your bathroom. "I guess I'll just have to shower all alone..."

on command, the covers were thrown in the air, osamu yelling "I'm awake!" and swallowing the pills dry in a panicked frenzy.

it works every time.

he giggled, holding your hand once he got up in order to make sure you weren't joking and truly drag you to the bathroom. you barely managed to murmur a "good morning" before he was all over you, slowing down only when you told him to take it easy with a laugh.

you'd both met each other when you were broken, but right now you've never felt so whole.

#dazai osamu #bsd dazai #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai osamu x reader #dazai bsd x reader #dazai x reader bsd #dazai bsd #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #down bad tm #im unwell for them

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moonlightspencie · 1 year

Text

Help Me Hold on to You

Description: Ted and the reader struggle with balancing mental health and everyday life. (Based on The Archer by Taylor Swift)

Pairing: Ted Lasso x fem!Reader

Warnings: depictions of anxiety and panic

Word Count: 8.9k

A/N: one of my all time favs that i’ve written (and, not to sound conceited, one of my favs in general bc it was super self-indulgent hehe). originally posted on tumblr. then dropped onto ao3. now it’s back on tumblr.

“Hey, Y/N. Whatcha up to?” Ted burst into your shared office, a wide-eyed look on his face.

You shook your head with a smirk, “Just going over the last game, trying to figure out what we can do better next time.”

You paused the video on your laptop, shutting it and looking up to him expectantly. He pulled a chair up next to you, suddenly looking a little nervous.

“I know that look, Ted. What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, plastering on a smile. “Nothing.”

“You wouldn’t have come interrupting me unless you had something you wanted to talk about.”

His face dropped, nodding slowly. “I’m getting kind of sick of you reading me like a book, sweetheart.”

“No, you’re not.”

He chuckled, looking back at you. “Okay, guilty. Uh, I’m not sure how to address this, so I guess I better just come out and say it, huh?”

You nodded back at him, silent, but with a reassuring smile.

He clapped once. “So, uh, nobody really knows about this, but I’ve been dealing with some anxiety lately. I, uh— I don’t really want anyone knowing about it, so if you could…”

“I’ll be quiet as a mouse in a trap.”

He raised a brow. “Morbid.”

“My colloquialisms can’t be as silly and polished as yours, friend.”

He smiled. “Guess not. Don’t really have room in my head for ‘em right now, though.”

You shrugged. “That’s okay. I like you whether or not you’re acting like a landscaper’s favorite machine.”

He paused for a moment, trying to put the pieces together. Then, his face lit up.

“Chipper?”

You simply pointed at him with a wink.

“Nice,” he said with a smile. He looked back down to his hands, smile melting. “So, um, I guess I just wanted you to know. That was the reason I had to leave the game, actually. It wasn’t food poisoning, but it just seems easier to let people believe that, you know? But, anyway. You seem to be good with these kinds of things, and I just… I don’t know.”

“Sometimes it’s nice just to tell someone, yeah?”

He nodded with a small grin. “Rebecca’s seen it happen once, but I think that’s about it. I made an appointment to speak with the doc, but I just couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged, head shaking. “It’s bull.”

“Ted, you remember what you told me when I talked to you about my issues with trust?”

He raised a brow. “I told you nobody good would hurt you like…”

“You told me that all people are different people. You’ve said it a few times around me, I know you’ve told other people the same. And you know what?”

“What?” His brows sat raised.

“You need to start taking your own advice.”

“I don’t like when you do that.”

“Do what?” You laughed.

He chuckled with you. “When you’re right. I’m not supposed to be a quitter, either.”

“Not for the good things, anyway, huh?”

He nodded. “Thank you.”

He started standing, but you stood with him before he could go anywhere.

“Hey, there’s something I want you to know, too.”

“Shoot,” he said, gesturing for you to continue.

“I deal with anxiety, too. A lot, actually.”

He furrowed his brow. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Didn’t want you to worry.”

“Well, now I am.”

“Don’t. I can cope, I just— I want you to know you’re not alone in this, okay? I get panic attacks, anxiety attacks, I deal with more minor symptoms pretty much every day. And you know what? It doesn’t make me any less of a person. Doesn’t make you, either.”

You saw the tears that began to prick his eyes, but decided to leave that situation alone. Instead, you pulled him in for a hug. He hugged back hard, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You heard him take a few shaky breaths before he pulled back, wiping at his eyes.

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t ever apologize for vulnerability. Least not to me, cause I know exactly how you’re feeling and it’s okay. I promise,” you reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze.

He smiled at you, trying to hold back from letting any more tears fall.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing, Ted. I do want you to try going back to doctor Sharon, though. She’s a good woman.”

He nodded, glancing at where your hand still held his own. He squeezed it again, then left you to get back to your work. You sat for a while, unable to focus on anything but what he’d told you. You hoped like hell he had really listened to you.

It wasn’t until the next day that you’d found he’d both listened to and simultaneously completely ignored you. You were walking down the hall from the office when you saw him.

“Hey,” you called out to him, both hands on his chest to stop him from moving when you got close enough. “Your appointment is supposed to be right now. What happened to—”

“I can’t do it.”

He grabbed one of your wrists, trying to move you. You refused to budge.

“No. Uh-uh. Why did you leave?”

“I’m not talking to someone who’s only there cause she’s paid.”

You raised a brow. “Excuse me, Lasso. Are you not getting paid to do your job?”

He huffed out a sigh.

“Don’t you get attitude with me,” you dropped your hands, but didn’t move from where you stood. “I gotta go, but you’re trying again tomorrow, you hear me?”

“Y/N—”

“You’re going. Non-negotiable.”

He dropped his shoulders. “Fine. I’ll try.”

You nodded once, a smile of victory on your face. “And by the way, I think Keeley’s smoking in the boot room. Might wanna see what that’s about, yeah?”

He tilted his head, a chuckle leaving him. You patted him on the shoulder as you passed to leave the building.

Your day from then on was a long one. You were running around with Beard for part of it, trying to work on strategy for the upcoming game against Man City. The whole Richmond team was on edge, and you were beginning to worry that the nervousness alone might end up being the end-all to the game. You were a firm believer that winning had as much to do with the power of the mind as the power of the body. If they were going in thinking they were going to lose— lose they would.

“That’s a little dramatic,” Beard said over his beer.

You rolled your eyes, sipping at your drink.

“It’s not. Same line of thinking as Ted’s ‘Believe’ sign. I’m just being a little more explicit about what I mean when I say it.”

He chuckled. “You two are more alike than I think you even realize, you know?”

“I think I realize.”

“Do you?”

You shrugged, nodding slightly.

“Both crazy about this team, and even more crazy about you,” you teased, flicking at the brim of his hat.

He hid a smile behind his glass. “Your never-ending optimism and knack for flattery is also pretty similar.”

You hummed in agreement. “Can’t argue with ya, there.”

“So, what do you think we should do, then?”

You shrugged. “Find some way to cheer up the team. Get them excited for the game rather than scared of losing.”

He nodded, brows raised. “Any way of implementing that?”

“I’ll figure it out, I’m sure.” You leaned back. “Remember that game against Kansas State? Our boys were so freaked about it all, then Ted did his thing and got them so excited to play…”

“Beat their asses.”

“Yeah, we did.”

You both went in for a quick high five before continuing.

“Remember how he did it?”

“Told ‘em they needed to loosen up. We had a dance party and ordered pizza.”

You smiled. “Yep. What do you say we make something like that happen again? Day before we travel, let’s do it.”

He smirked, a brow raised. “Sounds perfect. You gonna tell Ted?”

You shrugged. “I think he could use the surprise just as much as the players.”

He narrowed his eyes at you.

You put your hands up. “What’s that look about?”

He just shook his head silently.

“I’m not treating him any different.”

He raised a brow, sipping at his drink again.

“Ted’s been going through it lately, I just think he needs a little cheer up. Nothing else.”

He set down his drink, then sat up straight, eyes still trained on you.

“Quit lecturing me, Beard,” you chuckled. “I know you always think I have some thing for him, but why can’t it just be that I care about people, huh?”

“I see through it.”

You paused for a moment. “I hate that.”

He smirked, and you both finished eating.

You went home yourself, denying a walk-back from Beard. You appreciated the gesture, but the air was beginning to feel thick and suffocating. The last thing you wanted was for him to see you like that.

As much as you tried pretending like the state of the team wasn’t affecting you, you knew that trying to be the fixer for this situation was weighing on you. More than you thought it would.

You tried swallowing, feeling your throat pretending to swell just to spite you. You rushed even faster towards your flat, feeling that the oncoming attack wasn’t going to be so routine.

As soon as you were in your door, your knees hit the floor, head between your arms on the carpet. You tried to control your breathing, but it was no use. Tears fell, though you’d hardly noticed as you’d refused to open your eyes. The bleariness you were bound to find if you opened them would only make the situation worse. You began to worry about passing out if you couldn’t control your breathing, and decided to roll yourself onto your side, whole body pushing through tremors you hadn’t felt in a few months, at least.

The ringing of your phone didn’t aid your situation. You desperately hoped it wasn’t an emergency, because there was no way you’d be able to make it over to where you’d dropped your purse. But, it kept ringing. Four separate calls over the span of probably half an hour.

It was another good half an hour after the calls had stopped before you were composed enough to open your eyes, and pull yourself into a sitting position on the ground. Though, you wouldn’t have known. Time never seemed to make any sense in those situations.

You worked on breathing in and out slowly, wiping away at any remaining tears. The shaking hadn’t yet ceased, but at least that was manageable. Right as you started trying to stand, you heard the loud buzzing of someone asking to be let in. You made it over, asking who was there.

“It’s me. Are you okay?” Ted’s voice came through.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Hang on,” you said, letting him in.

It wasn’t long before a knock was at the door, and you wished he wasn’t so quick. No amount of post-panic-primping in a fifteen-second slot could make you look presentable enough to get past him. You opened the door, putting on a smile and hoping he would be too preoccupied with something else to look directly at you for too long.

His face dropped the second he saw you, of course.

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “I’m okay.”

He walked in, leaving you to close the door and follow him.

“No way, McConaughey. You can’t hide tears from me, I got eagle eyes for that sort of thing.”

You crossed your arms. “I’ve just had a long night.”

He watched you for a moment, picking up on the fact that you wouldn’t be sharing any time soon. He nodded slowly.

“Okay, that’s fine. If you don’t want to talk right now, that’s okay,” he smiled softly, then wrapped you in a tight hug.

You welcomed it, arms wrapping around his middle, head buried in his chest.

“You were honest with me,” you started after a moment, “so, I guess I should be with you. I just came down from a pretty bad panic attack. I couldn’t breathe, hardly made it home… I just—”

“It’s okay,” he said, rubbing your back as he spoke. “We don’t have to talk about details. Thank you for telling me.”

You nodded. “Thank you for coming.”

“You always answer when I call. I knew something had to be up.”

“What if I was just in the shower?”

“You still always call me back right away. I had over an hour of radio silence from you.”

You chuckled. “I didn’t know you had it down to such a science.”

He laughed back, pulling away from you just enough to see your face.

“There she is,” he said, a smile on his face.

“And she is a mess.”

“We all get a little messy sometimes, though, don’t we?”

You nodded. “Gotta agree with that.”

He looked at you for a moment or two with a soft smile on his face, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, especially since Beard was also on your ass about it, that was the moment you knew. You felt your heart rate pick up, and didn’t know what to do but escape. You stepped back, leaving him looking a little confused.

“I think I need some sleep, Ted.”

His eyes were wide, looking at you. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’ll be fine. I just need time alone, now. I need rest.”

“Okay, yeah,” he nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Uh, alright, well I will see you tomorrow bright and early, right?”

You nodded, giving him a quick smile.

“Anything else I can do for you?”

You shook your head. “No. I’m okay.”

He nodded again, watching you with those big, worried eyes. You wished he would stop with that. He waved a quick goodbye, leaving you alone.

You settled into bed, though you were unable to sleep. You couldn’t stop thinking about the team. Or Ted. Or the fact that you couldn’t help but self-sabotage any chance you got. You wiped away a few stray tears, and closed your eyes, hoping sleep would take over soon.

You woke up from a couple hours of sleep to a text. Of course, from Ted.

- Excited to see you today for coaches meeting :) I’m proud of you

You sighed, setting your phone down next to you. The guy didn’t seem to have a single mean bone in his body, and here you were wallowing in the fact that you couldn’t help but feel like you brought down everyone around you. As much as you tried to remain positive in every situation, you knew your mood affected the people around you whenever you were a little down in the dumps. You got up, hoping you could at least try to disguise it as well as possible for the day. At least for the morning.

You stopped to get coffee on the way in, delivering each drink with a smile. You sat next to Ted to watch the tapes, giving him the most convincing smile you could.

“You seem better today,” he said quietly, a smile on his face.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

The next few days you were preoccupied with setting up the party for the team, and luckily it kept you busy enough to not fall back into the hole you’d had to crawl out of. If there was one thing you were proud of, it was your ability to pull yourself out of the hardest places. Maybe it wasn’t always through the best methods, but you figured that doing what you needed to was working just fine. If it ain’t broke, after all.

“Howdy, howdy!” Ted chimed, walking in.

You shut your laptop quickly, still taking pride in the fact that you were successfully keeping the event from him.

He quirked a brow, nodding towards your laptop. “What’s that about?”

“Nothing you need to worry about right now. What’s up?”

He rubbed his hands together, leaning against your desk with a cheesy grin.

“Guess.”

“You got another jar of barbecue sauce?”

He laughed. “Yes, actually, but that’s not what this is all about, buttercup. It’s about you.”

You furrowed your brow. “What?”

“Well, kinda,” he said with a light chuckle. “I’ve been seeing the doc a lot more frequently, now.”

You lit up. “Oh, I’m so proud of you!”

“You’ll be even more proud in a second. Get this, she actually said that she’s glad me and you are friends.”

You crinkled your nose, laughing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I told her about all of your help over the past few sessions, and she told me to tell you, little lady, that I am lucky to have you.”

He nudged your shoulder as he ended the sentence, and you hoped he wouldn’t notice how you tried hiding a smile.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks as he finished out by saying, “I gotta say, I agree with her.”

“In that case, you’re welcome.”

He smiled again, hopping up to sit on your desk. “So, what are you up to?”

“You’ll find out later. Later today, actually.”

He raised his brows. “Oh yeah?”

You nodded, “Mhm. I really think you’re gonna love it, too.”

He gasped, “Did you get me those funky shoes from Gucci I showed you the other day?”

“What?” You scrunched up your face. “No, of course not. Those things were horrible.”

He paused, as if to say something, before raising his brows and nodding in agreement.

“Okay, so what is it?”

“Wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you, would it?”

He dropped his shoulders. “Aw, come on. Telling me you have a surprise and not saying what it is… That’s worse than telling your dog you’re going on a walk then leaving him home.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“You’re right, that’s just evil. But you know I like to know things.”

You reached over, patting his knee. “I know, but I think you can survive til after practice.”

“Training,” he corrected.

“Ted, we’re both American. You don’t need to adjust your language with me.”

“See, that’s why I love talking to you,” he laughed, poking at your shoulder.

You shook your head, “Okay, now get out of here so I can finish up.”

“I’ll see you at practice, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, looking a little too pleased with himself for switching up his terminology.

You laughed. “See you there, coach.”

Beard walked in a while later, looking at you expectantly.

“Yes, I’m almost ready. Pizza will be here about ten minutes before we’re done, so I’ll excuse myself a little early, and I’ve got Keeley and Higgins doing some decorating in the locker room while we’re out.”

“You know my favorite thing about you?” He asked as he sat down in his seat.

“Fact that you don’t have to actually say anything to talk to me?”

He smirked, nodding. “Exactly.”

You both laughed, then sat back and waited for the boys to make it to the locker room. Ted came in, a big smile on his face as he did.

“Hey, there are two of my favorite people on this whole planet!”

“Still not telling you,” you said, giving a glance at Beard.

He only shook his head, going back to his book.

“Hey!” Ted exclaimed, pointing to Beard. “You know, too?”

“Know what?” Nate asked as he walked in.

You kept talking, “Keeley and Higgins, too. Oh, and Rebecca, actually, but she can’t be a part of it today.”

Ted glared at you as he went to his desk chair, Roy coming in behind him as he did.

“You talking about what Keeley told me she can’t tell me about?”

“Yep,” you responded, leaning back in your seat.

He grunted in response, arms crossing over his chest. You all worked on the game plan for ‘training’, then headed out with the team to get started on the last home practice before the big game. You knew nerves were high the whole time, and were all the more focused on making sure your little pizza party was a relief for everyone. You excused yourself to bring in the pizzas with your two accomplices, and then waited outside the door until the team came barging in. You heard shouts of approval from them all as they saw the decor and food, smiling as the work you’d done was starting to prove to be a good idea. Beard and Ted wandered in a moment after the last boy was in the locker room, a smile on Ted’s face as he heard them all.

“This the surprise?” He asked as he approached you.

You smiled, nodding. Beard moved past you to enter.

“Remember Kansas State?”

He raised his brows, smile only growing. “You didn’t.”

You nodded once more. “I did.”

He scooped you up in a hug, spinning you around.

“You are the best,” he said, setting you back down with a kiss to your cheek. Luckily, the smile on your face could easily be chalked up to the surprise paying off rather than the show of intimacy from your friend. “Well, come on, let’s shake a leg so I can shake some booty.”

You laughed at that, following behind him into the chaos.

“Hey!” He called out to everyone. “Y’all say thank you to Y/N for all this.”

A chorus of ‘thank you’s erupted, and you laughed as Ted pulled you into his side.

“Couldn’t have done it without Keeley and Higgins, y’all. They did all the decorating, I just recycled an old idea of coach, here.”

The team chuckled, then went back to celebrating as the music started.

He looked to you, eyes narrowed. “You’re being way too modest. This happened cause you put your heart and soul into this team.”

“I learned from the best, Lasso.”

He looked at you quietly, a small smile on his face, then shook his head. He pulled you into the small crowd, and you all spent the next couple hours letting loose before you had to check in with reality again.

The party seemed to have helped. Morale was up as you prepared for the game, and at minimum you knew that even if you still lost, they likely wouldn’t take it quite as hard. That helped your conscience, if anything.

One more thing that took a weight off of your shoulders was what happened before the game even started. Ted told the other coaches about his struggles with anxiety before the game. He came clean about it all, and you knew he felt good about finally letting it go to them. As the others started walking out, you held him back, making sure he knew just how proud of him you were.

“I wish I had your confidence.”

He patted your back. “But, you also love your privacy. That’s okay, you know? You also do a much better job holding it down than I do when it comes to this type of thing.”

You swallowed. “I’m not so sure about that. I know how to cope the best way I can, but I think it’s much more brave that you decided to open up to them about this.”

“Hey, don’t be hard on yourself about this,” he said, a hand on your shoulder. “Besides, I’m only doing okay right now cause I’m seeing the doc so often.”

“You saying I need to see someone about this?”

He shook his head. “No. You helped me realize that, for me, going to see her was what I needed. I hope in some way I can help you realize that you should do whatever is best for you. We’re all different people with different experiences, right?”

“Right. Thanks, Ted.”

You sighed. Leaning into his side for a moment, then broke away, clapping once.

“Okay, now let’s go win this.”

The game was lost, but everyone moved past it. You knew most of that was because of Ted and his affection for the goldfish attitude, though he tried like anything to convince you they wouldn’t be feeling so okay if it wasn’t for the little morale boost you’d given everyone before it all started.

He’d also inadvertently managed to convince you to see Dr. Fieldstone.

You knocked on her door, and she looked up from her seat to see you staring at her with a smile from the doorway.

“Come on in, coach,” she said, gesturing at the chair in front of her.

You nodded, looking around the room as you sat. You noted the little bird next to you, tapping it just enough to get it going.

“I like your decorations,” you said with a smile, then looked back at her. “Also, please call me Y/N. I hardly let the boys get away with calling me coach outside of games.”

She smiled. “I see.”

“So, uh, it’s good to finally talk with you. I know we’ve seen one another in passing a few times, but I’ve been exceptionally busy lately or else I would have come and given a proper hello. I really appreciate all of the work you’ve been doing with the team. You seem like a very kind, compassionate woman. I’m happy to have you here, honestly.”

She just watched as you talked, a light grin on her face as you did, though most of the humor rested in her eyes.

You paused for just a moment, though when she didn’t speak up, you took it as an invitation to keep going.

“Uh, so, I’m not really sure how this goes. I’ve only been to see a therapist once before and it didn’t go great. Though, I promise I won’t hold it against you. I’ve just learned how to cope on my own after that experience, but Ted kind of convinced me to try to find what would work best for me moving forward, and I thought—”

“I see why you two are so close,” she chuckled. “I feel as though I know you already.”

Your brows raised. “Really? How so?”

“Well, between how talkative you’ve become now that you’re nervous, and the fact that I’ve heard quite a lot about you in general, I’d say I have an idea of who you are.”

You let out a quick laugh. “Gosh, I’m sorry. I get kind of chatterbox-y when I talk to someone new.”

“Or when you get nervous, yeah?”

You nodded slowly, looking down for a moment. “Yeah. That, too. Guess it kinda goes hand-in-hand with some of my anxiety business, huh?”

She shrugged, though gave you a look that implied she’d agreed with your statement. You smirked, as did she.

“You said you’ve seen a therapist once before?”

You nodded. “Yes, but it didn’t seem to help. They hardly listened to me, and then told me that maybe exercising and breathing exercises would help. Gave me that advice four sessions in a row without really ever caring to know why I was dealing with panic and anxiety and everything else.”

She raised a brow. “I’m sorry you had to experience that. Now, I know you might not be able to trust me—”

“Oh, no. I totally trust you, Doc. I’ve seen how great you’ve been with the team, and I learned from a good friend a long time ago that everyone has a different story. You don’t deserve to be compared like that.”

Her brows really shot up with that being said. She nodded slowly, writing something down as she did.

“Well, thank you for that. That was kind of you to say.”

You smiled at her. “I appreciate you. Really.”

“This need to reassure the people around you, do you think that might have anything to do with what you’re struggling with?”

Your eyes widened, almost shocked at the statement. You understood now how she’d made so much progress with Ted. You continued talking about what you needed to, but the session was coming to a close quickly.

“Uh, one more thing, doc?”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Thanks for what you said about me to Ted.”

She quirked a brow. “And what was that?”

“You told him I was good for him.”

“You are,” she said, nodding. “I think the both of you need to be reminded that you don’t always have to turn on the personality for someone to love you. I think you do that well. Both of you.”

You chuckled. “You… Are one wise woman, Dr. Sharon.”

She laughed. “I am pretty great at my job.”

“Well, thank you again,” you said, starting to walk towards the door.

“Y/N,” she called out, and you turned. “Try to remember that the whole world isn’t on your shoulders, yeah? You believe everyone deserves to know love and comfort, but you are one of those people, too.”

You nodded, taking in a deep breath, then said your goodbyes. You pulled out your phone as you left her office. Being the last appointment for the day, you knew most people had already gone home, but you felt like getting some food. You dialed Ted’s number and waited expectantly, heading towards the door.

He answered, but didn’t speak.

You furrowed your brow, exiting the building.

“Ted?” You asked, waiting for a reply.

His voice came through, shaky and nervous-sounding. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Whoa, hold on, what’s up with you?”

“I— I’m kind of…” he trailed off, taking in a hard breath.

“Are you at home?”

You started walking more quickly, heading towards his flat.

“Yeah.”

“I’m coming to you, okay?”

You heard a sniffle on the other end, and a weak ‘okay’ in response. You hung up, and practically ran the rest of the way there. He buzzed you in, and you were up the stairs, bursting into his apartment in no time. He was sitting on his couch in his undershirt and khakis, clearly having been in the middle of undressing when he got hit with whatever ailed him.

You rushed over to the couch, standing next to him. He looked up at you, still crying.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked softly, reaching over to touch his arm.

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Can I hug you?”

He nodded quickly, standing up and clinging to you like a child. You held him, hands rubbing up and down his back as he cried, head shaking every so often, disagreeing with the thoughts in his own head.

“I can’t even…” he trailed, mumbling against your shoulder.

“What is it, hun?” You asked, still trying to calm him as much as possible.

“Am I a shitty dad? I don’t—”

“No, no. Of course you aren’t.”

“I can’t even pick up my son from a sleepover. He had a nightmare and wanted to go home and I couldn’t be there for him,” he turned his head, cheek against your shoulder now.

You reached up to run your nails through his hair. “You’re like the best dad I could think of. Even thousands of miles apart, you spend more time talking to your kid than I ever got with my dad in the same house. He knows you love him.”

“I quit on his mom. I’m not supposed to be a quitter.”

“You didn’t quit. You didn’t forfeit. Game time was up, the match was over. Nothing you could do at that point, Ted.”

He sniffled, then nodded. “You really think so?”

“You were both fighting so long for something that only hurt the both of you. It was coming to an end naturally. You just finally had the strength to let it end, even though it was hard.”

He nodded again, and fell silent for a few minutes, still holding on to you for dear life.

“Ted?” You asked.

He hummed in question.

“Can I get you some water? I don’t want you to get dehydrated.”

“Yeah,” he said, then let you go, sitting back on the couch.

You filled up a glass from the tap, handing it to him and kneeling in front of him. He drank some, then handed the glass back to you to set down on the coffee table.

“Good, thank you for drinking some,” you smiled.

He laughed humorlessly. “I’m a child.”

“You just need to be cared for a little bit right now. I know stuff like this is all new to you still, I don’t think being comforted and coddled a little is gonna hurt all that much.”

He smirked. “I guess not. Thank you. For coming here.”

You stood, going to sit next to him.

“It’s nothing. You’d do the same for me. Heck, you kind of have already, you just didn’t have to witness the crying part.”

He chuckled. “That’s… Embarrassing. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not embarrassing at all,” you said, then leaned back into the cushions. “You feel like food?”

“I don’t know if going out right now—”

“I was going to order in. Thought we could watch tv or a movie or something and hang out for a while.”

He looked to you with a soft smile, nodding.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

The next day, you woke up feeling better than you had in a while. You felt well rested, and even went to pick up coffee for everyone despite it not being a film-watching day. You made your way to the office, though you found it much more somber than you were expecting.

“Whoa,” you started as everyone watched you walk in with the tray of drinks. “Who died?”

Apparently that was a poorly timed question.

You showed up at the funeral, heading right to Rebecca for a hug.

“Hi, love,” you said, squeezing her a little tighter than normal. “You okay?”

She nodded. “I’m alright.”

You pulled back, giving her a smile. “For what it’s worth, you look hot.”

She laughed, “Charming as always, my friend.”

“It’s what I do best.”

You heard the squeal of Keeley before you saw her.

“You look gorgeous!” She said as she hugged you.

“Babe, it’s a funeral.”

“Still look hot,” she said with a grin before moving on to Rebecca.

You gave a quick hello to Roy.

“She’s… Weird about funerals.”

You nodded. “Right. Well, I’ll be back. Ted was supposed to be here before me and isn’t picking up his phone now.”

Roy furrowed his brow. “Really? I’m shocked you didn’t come together.”

You tilted your head. “Why would we?”

“You realize how fuckin’ obvious you are?”

Your face dropped. “Nothing’s happening, Roy.”

He grunted with a shake of his head, and you headed off away from people to try giving Ted another call.

Still no answer.

When it hit his answering machine, you decided to leave it and send a text instead.

- hey, are you okay? i’m at the funeral now. if you show up, i’ll be in the back row waiting for you. if not, i’m coming to you as soon as we’re out of here

You shoved your phone back into your purse, making sure to leave it on vibrate in case he called back. Getting through the day was already hard, and you knew your anxiety was likely going to be more of a when-than-if kind of situation. It only built with the fact that Ted wasn’t getting back to you. You felt like everything was dragging on forever, and it wasn’t until Rebecca was struggling to find the right words in her eulogy that he came in. He sat next to you, squeezing your knee lightly to reassure you as he did, and you gave him a soft smile. Something was off, but even then he had the ability to comfort Rebecca all the way from the back row, continuing to sing the song she’d begun. And, of course, everyone else couldn’t help but join in.

You walked with him to the repast, and took that as an opportunity to ask him about what was going on.

“Ted?”

“Yeah?”

You fell quiet for a moment, unsure of where to start. He started for you.

“If you’re wondering, it was anxiety again. I’m sorry I didn’t respond…”

“Did you at least reach out to Dr. Sharon?”

“Yes.”

You smiled at him. “Okay, I’m glad. Proud of you.”

He smirked, then looked around the neighborhood for a moment.

“Uh, we talked about my dad.”

Your eyes widened. He’d hardly ever talked to you about what happened because he could never get through without crying.

“Wow. Are you okay? I know that’s always really hard for you…”

“She helped me see the good in him again, you know? I was always so angry with him for leaving us, but he did more than leave us. He was…” He trailed off with a shaky breath. You reached over, taking his hand, and he held onto yours firmly. “He was a great dad. She helped me remember that.”

“I’m happy you could talk to her about it, Ted. Seriously.”

He nodded, one hand going up to wipe at his eyes. “I guess it just hit me thinking about today…”

“I know. I’ve been pretty on edge today, too.”

“Are you okay?” He rushed out, looking at you.

You nodded with a smile, “Much better now that I know you are.”

He squeezed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. You tried to stave off the sick feeling in your stomach telling you to run the other way. You wished you could just enjoy a nice moment with him, but you couldn’t help but feel guilty somehow. He was too good for most people, and you considered yourself one of the ones he was too good for. You let it happen for a few seconds longer before you pulled away, pretending like you needed to check your phone in your purse.

“Get a message?” He asked after a moment.

“Uh, I thought I felt it vibrate. Guess not,” you chuckled a little.

He nodded quietly, shoving hands back in his coat pockets. You walked silently side by side until you reached the house, walking inside and beginning to mingle with some of the other guests there. You felt anxiety building, but tried putting it off. You couldn’t tell why it was getting worse and worse, but it was. Your pulse kept speeding no matter how easy you tried taking it.

But, you knew it was about to get way worse when you were suddenly being pulled away from Ted by Beard as a woman approached him. He watched after you with eyes wide for a moment before he turned to her, and you furrowed your brow at Beard when he deposited you in a different room.

“The hell was that about?” You snapped.

Immediately, you knew you needed to get away. It was hard enough feeling anxious, but the last thing you wanted was for your feelings to manifest as anger. But, manifest they did.

“You said you didn’t feel anything for him like that,” he said, testing you.

You scoffed. “Now is not the time, Beard. Who was that, anyways?”

“Remember the name, ‘Sassy’?”

Your stomach dropped, and you could swear the air had just gotten thinner.

“Seriously?”

He shrugged, a little smug. You let out a hard breath, beginning to walk away.

“You said—”

You whipped around. “Cut the shit, Beard. It’s none of your business.”

Eyes fell on you, and the barely contained attack was coming into swing. You started walking towards the back door and into the fresh air, hoping you could contain it all until you could get out of there and go home.

The door opened only a moment later, and you turned to find Beard staring at you.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped like that, I just—”

“You have feelings for him. I know you do.” He shrugged, coming to stand next to you. “What I don’t know is what’s wrong besides that.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re shaking.”

You looked down to see your hands shaking hard as you grasped your arms.

“I—,” you felt tears prick your eyes, and looked away. “I can’t fucking tell him. I’ve known him for years, do you have any clue how shitty it’d be to drop something like that on him? Besides, clearly he’s having fun with…”

You stopped, unable to even say another person’s name.

“The doc told me I self-sabotage, but I don’t think this is that. Is it wrong to want him to be happy? I don’t think I’m the bad guy for that.”

“Nobody said you were.”

“Nobody needs to. I’m a fucking mess. I have no right being upset that he’s happy. I’m a piece of shit,” you whispered at the end, closing your eyes. “I— I need to get out of here. I gotta go, I’m sorry.”

You felt your chest heave, trying to get in air through the invisible smoke that surrounded your head. There was no escaping it, now.

Beard reached out for you, but you already started leaving. He called your name, but you couldn’t handle facing him.

“If anyone asks, please just say I got sick,” you said, back still turned to him.

He sighed, watching as you walked away, holding onto yourself as if you might crumble otherwise. He was worried you actually would, but knew you’d only get more pissed if he tried following you now.

You stumbled along the street, not really sure where you planned on ending up. The closest location was on Nelson Road, so that’s where you found yourself after it all, sinking onto the floor of the office and letting all hell break loose. It was bad enough with how you’d been feeling today, but coupling it all with how ridiculous you felt over being angry that someone else had his attention… That was the thing that nearly pushed you over the edge. Crying and shaking led to dry heaving, dry heaving led to darn near passing out, and that all led to sitting on the ground for who knows how long. You’d always been able to pull yourself out eventually, but you weren’t sure you’d be able to this time.

If people really believed that hope kills, you wished they never had to know what being completely hopeless felt like.

Pretending like you weren’t ever affected by the things that hurt you could only get you so far, and now you were feeling the hard edge of realization that being hit by the things that pained you all at once was so much worse than dealing with it little by little.

Now, a room full of people had seen you crack, too. They all saw through it. The jig was up in a small way that felt huge. Your cover-up act was all you had sometimes, and you couldn’t afford to lose it all because you couldn’t handle seeing Ted with another person, or deal with your emotions before they blew up in your face.

You sobbed, unsure of how you were still awake with how much air escaped you and how little you were taking in. You almost wished you would just pass out for a few hours. Just to escape for a moment.

You heard footsteps fall heavy and quickly down the ball, and it only worsened your panic. The last thing you wanted was for anyone to see you like this, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You were cemented to the ground, a crying, shaky mess.

“Oh, thank goodness,” you heard a voice that sounded far away, then felt a pair of arms scoop you up and hold you tightly against them. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

You couldn’t stop yourself this time, and just let yourself cry. Ted tried moving your hands away from your face, but you refused to budge.

“Sweetpea, I need to know you’re okay. Can you breathe with me?”

His voice was more clear now, and you heard a tone in it you almost never did.

“Please,” he whispered, and now you knew why he sounded different.

Tears fell against your bare legs, and they weren’t your own.

“Breathe with me, come on,” he coaxed, and you tried your hardest to obey his request.

Once your breathing calmed, you were able to move your hands, though you refused to look up. He pulled you into his lap from where he sat next to you, hands holding you tighter than they ever had before.

“You really scared me,” he said, quiet.

You took in another breath, face against his neck.

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t be here.”

“What?” He asked, hands gripping you a little tighter. “What do you mean?”

You shook your head. “I’m a mess. You’re supposed to be out having fun.”

He was quiet for a moment before he spoke.

“Why did you…” He huffed out a breath. “I ran to your apartment. Then all your favorite restaurants. I went down all the streets I thought you might have taken, and finally I ended up here. I didn’t know where else to look.”

“Why were you looking?”

“I asked Beard where you were and he said you got sick. You were already not doing so hot, and I knew that was a lie”

“You have better things to be doing right now, Ted.”

“Nothing is more important than being here right now. Nothing. Do you understand me?”

He was taking a harsher tone with you than you were used to. You took a chance and looked up at him to find him in disarray. His tie and jacket were discarded, and his hair was kind of a mess.

“Don’t ever do that again. Please. At least tell someone where you’re going.”

You nodded, taking in the deep worry lines in his face.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t apologize for that, I just— I was scared.”

You swallowed. “I’m— I’ll be fine. Why don’t you go see your lady friend now.”

He furrowed his brow. “What?”

“I know Beard pulled us away from you two for a reason, Ted. You deserve to be happy. Please don’t let me get in the way of that.”

He raised his brows. “You’re not in the way of anything.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No. You’re not,” he shook his head. “Do you want to know something?”

You sniffed. “What?”

He stroked your cheek with his thumb, then smiled. “She’s kinda pissed at me anyway.”

“Why?”

He took a moment to lean back against the wall, readjusting you in his lap and wrapping his arms around you so that you wouldn’t be able to scoot away. He chewed at his lip for a moment, then looked at you. You stared back, eyes wide, and mascara running all down your face. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.

Hard as you tried not to, you laughed with him.

“What?”

“Your makeup ran harder than anyone on the team.”

You tried wiping away at it, but he grabbed your hand.

“Quit that.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “It’s kinda cute.”

“Me having a panic attack is cute?”

His eyes nearly bugged out of his head, but stopped when you laughed.

“I’m kidding. Sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

He let out a breath. “Man, I haven’t been that scared since my mom looked in the shoebox under my bed when I was seventeen.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “You didn’t answer me.”

“What?”

“I asked why she was mad at you.”

He nodded slowly, chewing at his bottom lip.

“Uh, well, when I asked Beard where you were and he said you were sick, she was in the middle of trying to get me to go to her hotel room.”

You felt your stomach sink again, looking away in hopes he wouldn’t catch the shift in your demeanor.

He continued, “I told her I had something more important to do. She didn’t like that a whole lot.”

“You did?”

“Yep.”

You swallowed hard. “So, it is my fault.”

He huffed out a sigh. “Can you quit that? I turned down sex to come sit on the ground with you, and you know what? In any case I would always rather be here with you. Panic attack or not. You could literally just ask me to sit on the ground with you and I would always say yes.”

“Well, that’s just dumb.”

He pulled your head towards his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“You always see right through me like I’m a dang department store window. Now, of all times, is when you decide to just… Not get it.”

You played with the buttons of his dress shirt and quirked a brow.

“What the heck are you talking about?”

“You know, I thought you might get it all the times I asked you to come get dinner or coffee with me. Or maybe every time I come bother you and stick around way longer than I normally would with anyone else— and that’s saying something. I was really hoping you’d get it when we were holding hands on our walk today, but of course not.”

He laughed, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head before he pulled back to look at you. You watched him with wide eyes, questioning his intentions and hoping you weren’t somehow still misreading this.

“You gonna make me say it?” He asked with a smile.

“I’d prefer if you did.”

He laughed, shaking his head. He then looked up at the ceiling, trying to search for the right words to say. They must have come to him, because he looked back to you, and simply stared for a minute before he finally started talking.

“You’re one of the kindest people I know. Like, Mr. Rogers reincarnated. You always know how to cheer me up. You always know how to help me, and everyone else in your life, somehow. I think you’re incredible. I think you are so funny and so talented and crazy smart. I even think you’re stupidly gorgeous when you’ve got makeup running all over your cheeks,” he said with a laugh, then continued when he got reassurance from your smiling face. “I’ve been scared to get close to anyone since… Since the divorce. You made it so easy, though. I’ve known you forever, but now— I guess I just realized a few months ago that nobody’s ever been there for me like you. You never tell me I’m too much. You never expect me to be… I don’t know. You don’t ever expect me to be on all the time. I can just be me, good or bad, and you still treat me the same.”

You watched him with a rapidly beating heart. Though, this time, it wasn’t telling you to run. It wanted nothing more than for you to stay right where you were.

“That’s something the Doc told me. That we’re good for each other because of that,” you said quietly.

He nodded. “I know, and she’s right. She helped me realize I had feelings for you. Real feelings.”

You bit your lip, then grinned. “Are you gonna crack a joke any time soon? Because all of this serious from you is becoming a little scary.”

His face lit up, and he laughed. You smiled with him, leaning into him for a hug. He held you close, taking in several deep breaths and enjoying the moment, then kissed your cheek as he pulled back again.

“Uh, so… Is this just gonna be me confessing and you get to sit there and tell me to do a crap ton of Hail Mary’s?”

You smiled. “There’s my Ted.”

His brows raised. “Your Ted, huh?”

You laughed, wiggling out of his grip. He let you, and you stood up, reaching for him. He stood with you, not letting go of your hands.

“You’re not going to let go of my hand to check a nonexistent message again, right?”

You smiled, looking down. “You caught that?”

“I can read you almost as well as you can read me. I knew something was up.”

You shook your head, walking into him and wrapping him in a hug again.

“I see things are a little better now,” Beard said, leaning against the doorframe of the office.

You let go of Ted, turning towards Beard.

“Hey. I’m sorry about—”

He held up a hand. “Don’t be. I was kind of being an ass anyways.”

You gave him a tight lipped smile, nodding a little.

“You two figure out… All that business?” He asked, pointing between the two of you.

Ted smiled, “Yeah, we did.”

“Good.”

He waved and left with that, the two of you alone once more.

Ted grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

“Let’s go home and maybe… Clean up. We kind of look crazy,” he smiled.

“Can we head to mine first? I want to get out of this dress.”

“Why don’t we just go to mine?”

He raised his brows in question, and you couldn’t help but smile. Now at least you didn’t have to pretend you didn’t think he was adorable.

“I need clothes.”

He quirked a brow. “I think you’d look awfully cute in my clothes.”

You laughed, “Okay, fair enough.”

“Ready to go home, then, sweetpea?”

“Of course.”

#ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso x y/n #ted lasso fluff #ted lasso angst #ted lasso anxiety #ted lasso #the archer

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yawntu · 1 year

Text

Golden Hour

A/N: ngl i’ve been fiending to write more Tsu’tey but y’all can’t let me become a one trick pony fr. This one’s a little self indulgent my legs be kicking and shit. This isn’t proof read but will be eventually LMAO. I just wanted to get it out bc ppls were messaging me, I tried giving u actual plot this time. Sully reader, Neteyams twin <333 why does tumblr always eat the end half of my posts what the FUCK

pairing(s): Ao’nung x (Sully)(f) Reader

word count: 10k

warnings: NSFW MDNI, weed oop, squirting, 2 little slaps but they’re not hard, consent king, mating, standing sex?, dacryphilla, semi public, a little bit of degrading / mean bits but not really, he just thinks you’re real pretty idk, size kink, brat taming if u squint readers got a bit of a catty attitude, you both have attitudes, idiots in love, PINING, idk i have a soft spot for idiots in love, Ao’nungs so in love with u, i’m about to start getting ppl to read these over and do the tags for me bc idk how to

na’vi glossary: skxawng: moron, Ole’eytkan: clan leader, kurkung: asshole, vrrtep’ite: demoness, Nga yawne lu oer: i love you, tanhì: star, kxener: I took park of the word that describes the act of smoking, idk I’m out here making up Na’vi slang.

Perhaps you were in such a delightful mood today because of the rich scented soaps and the pretty shimmer body oils that left your skin hydrated and vibrant after your bath, or perhaps it was the fact that Tsireya had just done your hair with little pearls and shells the night previous.

You’ve grown to love so many things that Awa'atlu offered you. You think, however, that your favorite thing was the sheer amount of turquoise geothermal warmed springs scattered around the bustling seaside village. You had often found yourself alone now that you had grown up, appreciating the peace that solitude brought you. Soaking in the warm watered spring of the mangrove beaches not terribly far from the village only added to said peace. Besides being a good place for one to watch the sun rise in the morning, it was also a good place to be left alone. As it wasn't an increasingly popular place to bathe it meant you got to spend your morning with pretty scented soaps, oils and creams while eating fruit and enjoying a kxener all in your preferred solitude. It wasn’t that you didn’t love spending time with friends and family- in all honesty a war torn childhood made you appreciate them and the peace you now lived in even more.

A fact you attempt to remind yourself off when an obnoxious smack of feet against the rocky grounds of the warm springs past the mangals pull you from your fruit eating haze. Your head snapped over to the sound, ready to scold someone for disrupting your tranquil morning- yet your eyes fall upon Aonung’s advancing form. You can’t help but allow a quick smile before your act begins. Your faux scowl at his towering approaching form.

“I literally just got in, what could you possibly want of me this early in the day?”

It’s a lie you tell as you lean back on the rocky wall of the spring, pointing two accusatory fingers towards him. You had been in long enough to quickly wash your hair and body. Even enough time to oil the ends of your hair, and though you were quick with it if he ended your bath here you’d at least have enjoyed your little acts of self care. No doubt you’d have to get dressed and follow him somewhere to help with something you’d much rather not be doing on your supposed free day. If the Eyktanay was saunting over to you, then no doubt your perfect morning would be a fleeting moment crushed to dust at your feet.

He gives you an look of dumbfounded distress, brow muscle jutting up into an arch while his lip curls up into a contemptuous grin,

“And to think I thought we were dear friends who enjoyed each other's company, vrrtep’ite,”

He is silly looking, as he squats at the edge of the spring, large imposing arms dangling between his legs, his tail curved towards you, eyes unnaturally trained at the horizon despite the fact he’s apparently cross with you. You can’t help but grin up at him, enjoying the quips and banter he often offered you; yet showed you enough respect as to not oogle at you.

Part of you was surprised to have him stumble upon you, as of late he is usually too busy to share a moment with him before the eclipse. He grabs the kxener next to your bowl of fruit, and the flintstones, barely looking at you. It’s endearing, how he holds the smoke between his full lips, his too big hands managed to spark rocks together to light it. For his towering frame, Aonung moves rather gracefully. His jaw is sharp as it clenches when the herbs spark at his face, eyes fluttering. You watch the muscles of his neck and shoulders flex when he puts the tool down and moves to hold the kxener with his left hand. He grabs a berry motioning towards you,

“What?”

His voice is haughty as he notices you staring. Even as he talks out of the corner of his mouth, lips holding the kxener smoke from fully creeping past his pointy white canine and incisor. The way his face contorts makes you giggle, resting your arm on the rock he was perched on,

“I don’t know. It’s silly seeing you act so civilized,” you say as you run one of your nails down his ankle to mess with him, “Decide you want to enjoy my brunch, huh? What, wrestling a tsurak too brutish today?”

He is instantly making a face, mimicking your voice in a faux girlish shrill as he finally grabbed hold of what he was smoking, seating himself fully, then plopping the fruit in his mouth giving you a displeased look.

It had been a long time since he was a truly troublesome, rough edged hooligan and though you would have still called him a hooligan to this day, Ao’nung was proud of how he had grown. Though he had his stubborn and even volatile moments he had won the close friendship of your twin brother, and even the younger siblings he once put in perilous danger. You had all long let that dead pa’li lie.

“You are the jungle savage,” he jokingly sneers, handing the kxener back down to you, then poking at your forehead for annunciation.

The mix of the thickly sweet and tangy fruit on top of the sour, peppery and earthy taste of the kxener is pleasant, but the fact that you can taste the balm that was on his lips is what makes your tail swish slowly in the water.

“You’re mad your mother likes me better than you right now,”

You nod matter of factly to the freshly added tattoo creeping up his shoulder, an obsidian addition to his growing collection. Ronal was displeased with who had done it, not so much the design. Soon he'd be covered in them, rarely a part of his pretty face untouched by ink. Ronal knew this, yet it was in her nature to be argumentative. You didn’t stick around for the argument as by the time Ao’nung walked completely into their home, you and his sister had made a quick dash out as to not inherit the wrath of Ronal. The two had been bickering over everything since.

“Ha!” His laugh is boisterous and booming like the storms that would crack down over the ocean, “I am my mothers favorite! She’d drown you before-“

Drown was a funny idea. And now that he didn’t have your lit morning smoke in his hand, there was nothing defending him from your swift hand clutching the wrist closest to you, dragging him forward into the depth of the spring. It was a quick decision really, you had been a little shocked you did it considering if you didn’t pull him with such force he’d have surely hit the rock you were currently seated on- and this rather foolish quick decision meant that poor Ao’nung was as equally not prepared for the assault. The splash of his bulking body is huge, unceremonious and forces you to quickly turn half your body to avoid the brute of its wave.

The mischief is worth it as he rises from the water unharmed yet in disbelief. His sea-foam eyes wide open, curls sticking to his forehead as they fall from his silly little bun. Seeming to be dumbfounded that you dared to pull the practically aquatic man into such waters. As if he hadn’t stepped towards a rocky plateau as he stood up, and that the water barely reached his belly button.

“At least you did not drown-”

Perhaps if it wasn’t for the pesky second eyelid of the Metkayina then the water would have blinded him long enough for you to playfully escape from the splash he sent your way; far too powerful of a crime as the ends of your hair rewet and stick to your torso. It’s a foreign feeling as your hair had already begun to dry under the intense heat of the sun previously.

“You’re the worst out of the lot of you,” he interrupts himself with a sneeze from inhaling the water he wasn’t prepared to breath in, “i’m still clothed, skxawng,”

It makes you laugh, he seems genuinely annoyed but it still bemuses you. They were always wet and in and out of the water. How could it have possibly mattered to him, you were sure he’d have gone diving once he was content with ruining the peaceful start of your morning.

You knew him. You knew he came here to pick on you in his usual manner until something else caught his attention and he’d leave you alone and unfortunately missing him. So you’d enjoy your moment of terrorizing him back. You liked humbling him. Especially now that he’s growing closer and closer to being Ole’eytkan.

You obviously wouldn’t have ever grown to be as forward with your hazing had his sister not emboldened you; and though he stands ahead of you, almost posturing, you both knew there was an unspoken rule that Ao’nung lets you tease him. Though you danced across the exasperated too-far line, Ao’nung would take a great deal from you with a playful surrender. You huff the herb one more time before passing it to his dripping form, a peace treaty.

“You interrupted my bath, it is only fair,”

You’re far too occupied with how soft the almost too warm skin of his hand was when it was wet, and the tantalizing shivers it sends up your arm when your fingers make contact with him to notice that he sees you. Maybe he had inhaled too much water as you had caught him off guard, or maybe he had just inhaled smoke too deeply immediately after you had stolen the physical breath from the vacuum of his lungs, but Ao’nung is entirely too entranced with the moment that plays in front of him that it makes him dizzy.

The sun rising behind him was finally starting to lose its pinkish hues, casting warm golden rays onto your freshly washed glassy skin. The oils across your azure skin reflected the sparkly luminance that only the crushed up shells of Awa’atlu could provide. He can’t help but think the sun looks its best reflecting off the amber of your eyes. Though you are one of- if not the most beautiful girl- he had had the pleasure of knowing, the golden rays of the rising sun dancing across the apples of your supple cheek weren’t where his eyes have trailed to. In fact, your long hair moved slightly from where it had been covering your out of the water torso. Though you had never really worn much coverings, the fact that you were not only nude, but comfortable enough to be relaxed nude around him made his chest feel just as fuzzy as his head.

He’s glad you’re lost in thought so he can take a split second to stare at you breast without you noticing, despite the almost painful desire to stare at your gracile forest form he doesn’t want to be caught staring. He’s only been caught staring at you once- not by you of course. For someone so clever he was surprised you were so oblivious to the world around you sometimes. No- he had been caught staring by your twin brother who had rightfully punched him right in the back, making contact with a rather fresh, and rather painful tattoo. Though it turned into a light hearted, overly rowdy horseplay between friends, Ao’nung understood the undertone. If he touched you, Neteyam might just kill him.

“If you wanted me to take a bath with you, you could have just asked,”

Why in Eywas great paradise did he say that? He was just thinking about how your brother might knock his teeth out for the fact that he had been staring at your bare chest and he felt as though stupid mouth spoke on its own accord.

He was glad you turned so red at his words though- probably out of anger at the implication. It overshadowed how he had embarrassed himself- drew your attention away from the embarrassing mauve heat creeping up his own neck. He hated how visible the contrast of flushed skin was compared to yours. The splash of the water you sent towards him forces him to hold the half done kxener far above his own head.

“I’m surprised you even know how to bathe, kurkung,”

He thinks it’s cute how quickly one arm covers your chest as you go to sit up slightly- suddenly very aware that you’re more exposed then usual, despite the fact you didn’t seem to care before- reaching to grab at his arm and try and snatch the kxener from his hand. It’s his turn to laugh at you know, and plop himself down on the water smoothed stone you had lounged on.

“I’m very clean actually. It’s hard to have such magnificent hair,” He hands you the kxener and with his other hand motions to his bun.

You snort, rolling your eyes and taking the herb you had both been using as a peace treaty from him. Your body turns towards him, head propped up on one of your pretty delicate hands, and the other holding the kxener to your pretty plump lips. Had he not embarrassed himself once already he’d have just sat here and blatantly watched you smoke in the morning light.

“It is going to grow thin if you keep it up all the time,” You motion to him.

Though you knew it was probably a pile of talioang dung, and that his hair would be fine despite the past five years of his well known bun- you couldn’t help but love when his long curly terraces fell down the expanse of his prodigious back. You wouldn’t waste an opportunity to convince him to keep it down.

“I’ll tattoo my bald head,” he’s grinning when he tells you, mimicking the way you had propped your head up on your hand, and reaches to swirl one of your own wavy strands around his finger, “Probably shave yours in your sleep to get back at you for jinxing me,”

“Your mother would scalp you if you did such a cruel thing, very unbecoming of the Eyktanay,”

You mock his status over you. He supposed that was fitting for you. The eldest daughter of the Toruk Makto was sure to have an issue with authority,

“Well this is rather unbecoming of me. I could be doing countless other things but sitting in a spring with you smoking a kxener and watching the world go by,”

His argument is valid. Though you know he’s joking there is a twinge in your stomach. An argumentative spark that tells you he isn’t joking- that he did not prioritize you the way you had grown to prioritize him.

The snippy comment rolling off your tongue dies as Ao’nung’s shoulders hunch slightly, leaning his head further down into your space. At this point you were close enough that he could hit the rolled smoke from your own hand.

It was ridiculous. Evil even. How Eywa dangled what you wanted so cruelly in front of your face. The cruel waltz of tension that has suffocated the friendship as you aged. The fact that you can feel your stomach drop at the feeling of his lips so close to your fingers, could taste the shared air between the two of you. Here you sat almost stunned in the shadow of his form.

The Metekyana were large- huge even. An’oung was large amongst them. Well into ten feet you’d assume considering he was ever so taller then his father when he stood straight up. In comparison to his big, stubborn bull-head, your sylphlike hands holding the mostly finished intoxicant to his tantalizing lips looked delicate and small. He could break you. He could toss you around like a rag doll and you’d even thank him after.

You feel bad for the addled look on your face, it’s just been increasingly vexing growing into adulthood due to this bastard. You know you really want to be grinning at his close proximity and the fact that he trusts you so close to his face with something burning. You should be cooing over the fact that he flutters his pretty eyes closed and admires his long eyelashes. Yet you couldn’t stop the bubbling of an attitude under your skin. You knew you were attracted to him, most people had known you had fancied him. Especially when he had grown comfortable enough around you to privy you to the earnest, callowly charming and flustered side of him- but there was something about the way life turned out that kept you both in this tense ‘we aren’t together’, but we are very obviously much more than friends.

You were an older sister at your core. Bossy and with a desire to be the center of attention; Ao’nung thought it was a game to play, and would never fall at your feet the way you charmed others into. At least he’d put up a fight in the pathetically self imposed game you had both committed to.

“Others would gladly take your place, leave then, find somewhere else to be,” you find your resolve finally, after your embarrassing pause.

With a roll of your eyes, you snatch your hand from his lips. In annunciation of your irritation you had stood up slightly, careful to not remove your body from the turquoise waters of the mangrove spring as you began to move towards the end furthest from him.

He doesn’t really like the years-long game you’ve been playing at this moment, and he really doesn’t like that you have moved away from him. He’s tired of competing in this ridiculous long winded courting ritual with you. He’s been at it since he had made you sob when he left Lo’ak outside of the reef all those years ago. It was the first time Ao’nung had been embarrassed by his own actions. He had been spoiled his whole life, taking whatever he could want- and for the first time he realized he had taken something from someone else. He had taken happiness from someone. He thanked Eywa for letting Lo’ak return relatively unharmed, and swore the wretched sobs that had fallen from your lips never again even ticked the back of your throat.

Year's. Years he has gone out of his way to emulate the humility you so easily radiate. You had forced him to grow; for year's he's learned how to be a man who deserved you. He wasn't a perfect man, in his eyes still not very deserving of you; he was still loud, impulsive and painfully cocky. It’s probably what had pushed him to wrap a large hand around your delicate wrist, unceremoniously pulling you back until the back of your thighs touched him, tail squishing between you and the muscle of his thigh.

Though Ao’nung would pride himself in the fact that you haven't sobed once or even cried often in years, he can't say you didn't hiss. As you are right now, a soprano squeal of a hiss right in his face. Now that the kxener was finishing you were pleasantly buzzing; and the quick drawback of your body had made you dizzy. It’s not his actions that have you embarrassed; you're embarrassed your stomach is fluttering at the feeling of coming into contact with his legs and torso, comfortably aware of the heat he added to the warmth of the water. You try to hide the embarrassment of being close to him like this with only half-real annoyance. Had you not been so civilized Ao’nung was sure you would snap that pretty little jaw at him bite a chunk out of his face,

“I am naked!” Your voice cracks as you yelp, hand landing on his thigh, using the waters aid to help elevate yourself off of his lap, mortified as you were far too close to the water's surface to enjoy the privacy the turquoise water had provided you with yet the idea of your bare skin on his was somehow scarier.

“I am not,” he remarks, taking the kxener from you, moving the hand that had grabbed you to land on your thigh.

You freeze in his lap. Now that the sun's completely up there's nothing to hide you. No beautiful colors to bounce off of your face that you can pass off the blushes accreditation.

“Sit and finish it, you wanted to enjoy a relaxing morning- you do not seem so relaxed,”

You blame the softly buzzing high for the softness you feel for him at this moment. Assuring yourself that his stupid oval head wasn’t terribly handsome and that his warm blue eyes didn’t make your chest tighten. You wouldn’t admit to any of the stupid love sick thoughts that have plagued your mind the entire time he’s been here with you.

More so, you certainly wouldn’t admit that despite his usually rowdy behavior and need to bicker with you, sitting against his imposing form made you feel safer than ever before. It was the work of a herbal paranoid if he dared poked fun at you for how it did not take much convincing for you to sit yourself down on his lap. Flinching at the feeling of the fiber of his tweng against the nude back of your thigh and glutes. You hope he doesn’t notice, even going as far as to lay your head on his chest before doing as he told you and lifting the dwindling end to your lips,

“Don’t you want to finish it?” you ask him, refusing to look up at him. Instead you stared intently at the sun over the sea. He runs his fingers across the expanse of your shoulder.

“It’s yours, I want you to enjoy your morning. Besides, unlike you I have real things to do this afternoon,”

You huff at his jab, knowing he respected the work you did around the village and the aid you offered his mother. A small part of you aches over the lingering idea that he didn't think you enjoyed the time spent with him.

“I've already enjoyed my morning. It’s not often the future Ole’eytkan spares time for me and graces me with his presence,”

You know he's busy, you'd never actually hold that over his head. And when you feel him move your hair off of your shoulder and lay his head on top of your own you almost feel bad for reminding him he’s so busy. Especially when he so sweetly caresses your decolletage as well. You didn’t understand how you always danced this edge with Ao’nung. Years of this pining and yet you’d both always end up here. Stuck in a strangely intimate moment that neither of you would dare go past. You are glad to finish though, finally tossing the item that had kept you both in this painfully frustrating stalemate, maybe you’d go sulk the rest of the day as he was busy doing Eywa knows what.

It’s your ego really, that makes you want to end the morning. Or embarrassment. How could you be sitting naked on top of him; how could you have let this go on all morning. Not just this morning actually, how could you have played this game so long with him when you were so unsure of his own feelings.

“I’m going to prune though so we should get out,”

Your voice is snippy when you speak to him. Hurt evident in your voice as you look up, and finally notice that he’s staring intently down at you. Committing the sight of your nude lissome Omatakyan form perched on his lap to memory. His wagging tail rippling the water and allowing him to watch the waters reflection dance across the bare sapphire of your skin. You were often close to Ao’nung. He didn’t make you uncomfortable in the slightest. You had sat in similar positions, been casually intimate- hell when you were younger the whole group of you would sleep in piles. Being pressed against him wasn’t new to you, yet this is very different. He had made the situation you were in very different in the span of minutes.

“Ao’ i’m serious-“ your voice cracks, “We’ve been here far too long, i’m sure someone will come looking for you-”

“Only me, you and Eywa here,”

It’s said with such a coy yearning you can’t help but flush purple. It wasn’t often that he had ever caught you off guard- at least not to this extent. Despite his usual impulsive nature he was usually relatively predictable when it came to you,

“Y-you’re never serious,” your ears flatten, when you try to turn your head, however his hand is quick to catch your cheek, and he uses his thumb to smush both together.

It’s not as easy for your tail to wag submerged in the water, not as easy as his does. You’re fighting against the water but you can’t help the flick of your tail- there was too much going on. You felt too much. You’re not really sure why you keep up the charade. He knew you had a great deal of admiration for him surely he wouldn’t have drawn this out had he not been interested in you?

“How could I not be serious when the most enchanting woman in all of Pandora is looking up at me like that?” and his big hand is dwarfing your cheeks and you can swear that you’d choke if you spoke, “Huh? All shy now are you?”

You weren’t shy. How could he call you shy? Shy was hiding away from him or avoiding conversation. He couldn’t call you shy if he did things to embarrass you into dumbfounded silence.

“You drive me ins-”

Your scold dies at the feeling of his kiss on your lips. It’s soft and his breathing against your face makes you smile. It's embarrassing how instant the grin is. How can you be mad when he’s kissing you finally. Perhaps you’d just say you were throwing a nantang a bone when your greedy berry stained tongue eagerly glided across his lip, or when your hips dug down into his lap, curling your tail around his thigh. Ao’nung could justify that his hands gripping and groping frantically as your sun warmed torso pulling you back into him was him doing the same.

And when one of your hands falls to caress your nails against the skin of his lower abs he can’t stop his hips from jerking and thrusting upwards into you, sending your body jostling up. Prematurely ending the oral exploration of both of your tongues.

There’s a string of his saliva connecting you together and his hands brace your jolted form. He means to ask you if you’re alright much quicker then he does. He can’t help but get distracted by your pretty flushed cheeks and with your wide amorous amber eyes. It set him a thrill with a sense of his own stomach warming bliss. He can’t shake his worry though. Worried he had pushed too far too suddenly.

“C’mon, you’re not ready for all this yet,” he rubs his nose against yours, and lets you kiss him softly again.

He paws at your hip, and then motions back towards the village with his head breaking your lips apart. How could you have possibly wanted to go back to the village now? You give him a queried look at his cocky barb,

“Perhaps you’re the one not ready for me,”

The raillery in your voice is a comfort that would have made his knees buckle had he not been seated. He smiles, because he knows you’re both right; and his cheeks hurt from the grin as he watches your eyes flutter close as your noses touch once more. A magnetic force that kept bringing your faces close to one another. You couldn’t see him now that your eyes were closed and you were enjoying the comfort of being close to him. It made him shift in his seat. You couldn’t see him. Not now. Not when he wanted you to see him so terribly. See how hard he had worked for you- see how badly he wanted you to just tell him you wanted him so he could move past this terrible feeling of insecurity he had over you. Then again perhaps, he thought it meant more in this moment that you knew him. Knew him so well that you could see past his coyness. As if to coax him further you bite down gently at his lip.

How could he leave you wanton like this? He relishes in the the sweet wiggle of your body at the gentle press of the pads of his calloused fingers roaming the length of your spine and dancing across the valley of your breasts. Soft and slow—just for the sake of caressing you. He has wanted to touch you like this for as long as he could remember. None of his lingering touches or platonic embraces could pale to the invigorating pulse your skin against his gave him. And he’s barely touching you- ghosting over your pretty sapphire skin and you’re trembling. Trying to squirm away from his lithe hands as to prevent his gliding fingers in their pursuit towards your peaked nipples. He’s sure the drag of his fingers as he groped at you was probably more tortuous than any direct overstimulation he could cause you but he wouldn’t grant you that clemency. Not until he feels satisfied that you’ve been disproven. That he was more than capable of taking care of you, more than ready to.

Ao’nung is competitive, and you know this. He knows you know this. How often have you both gotten into trouble over silly competition? He can’t help but huff at the thought that you knew how to press his buttons and roll his hips up once more. The sound of water squishing between where you meet makes your ears fall flat against your head and your nails dig into the soft skin below his abs.

“Ya, yer gonna see,” He moves with you easily, sliding from under you and propping your knees up on the smooth stone you had both sat on previously, standing behind you.

Ao’nung casts an imposing shadow over yourself and the ground around you. The water only offers to cover you to the top of your thigh, rendering you the most exposed you’ve ever been for him. You can’t help but shift your weight and squirm at the feeling of Ao’nung wrapping his hands around the freshly cleaned halo of curls that were your last sense of modesty. Now that he’s pushed your hair over your shoulder there’s nothing stopping him from seeing all of you. You attempt to focus on how the ends of your hair dip into the water, or how tan your freckling hands and arm appear next to the light lime wash of the smooth stony structures of the springs.

You feel strange, knees on the smooth stone you had originally sat on, palms bracing yourself on the stoney ledge as his prodigious hands dance up and down the shape of your curves while he causes in the water to plop rhythmic against your skin as he gives into his desire to rut against your form quickly. He is even quicker to catch himself and return his focus to you. You should feel much more vulnerable than you do at this moment- quite literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. Yet the cooling overcast of his form protecting you from the sweltering rays of light made you feel far more secure then you had previously thought.

It’s tantalizing- dizzying even when you feel his fingers run down the expanse of your back. It was easy for him to become distracted with the enchanting visage of your form arched prettily in front of him.

He knows you were right. He was nervous. For more reasons than one. Firstly the longer the sun made its ascension into the sky the more likely anyone could have the misfortune of stumbling upon you. More importantly he knows he should not mate with you right here. That you deserve much better than this. He aches knowing this is the closest he has ever gotten to it despite years of literally grasping at sand for the chance to be mounted over you like he was now.

Ao’nung did not have the resolve of a man you deserved though. He couldn’t swallow the anxiety he felt over the fact that perhaps if he didn’t come across you today someone else would have. And you would have been bent over for them. He wanted to do this much better for you- as cliche as it sounded. Yet, when he watched his hand dwarf the intricate and soft dips of the dimples that framed the sides of your softly twitching tail, his resolve snapped.

“Yer’ gonna be my Tsahìk?”

He watches you jolt under his sudden slurred words, the added stimulation of his left palm gripping the pliable sphere of meat that was only centimeters from his own longing groin adding to your need. Gripping just a bit too roughly. He didn’t mean to handle you so impolitely, he could not bring himself to have any resolve as his fingers curl against your skin to pull you apart for him. He’s embarrassed at how excited he is to receive the reward of your pretty moan at his chilling intrusion. He had been blessed with hearing your whiney groans and faux whimpery cries many times before, but he had never been privy to such an entrancing sound as your desperate moan.

He can’t stop his upper body from clambering down, hands quickly bracing his imposing form down on the same rock that held you up. His face instantly in the visible crook of your neck. All you can do is turn and gaze dumbfounded at his hand that twitches almost too closely to your own while you listen to him practically pant in your alert ear. His panting breath cracks in your ear when you raise your hips slightly, the feeling of the ridge of your tail, and curve of your ass against his ever throbbing manhood results in his own guttural moan followed by a sloppy open mouth kiss under your ear.

“Ao’nung, please,”

You don’t know what you’re pleading for him to do and he can’t believe you could be the one pleading right now considering how tightly you had wound him up already. He can’t bring himself to understand the complexities of your own emotions when he can now fully feel his body on top of yours.

“Please what, huh? Want me to mate you? G’onna be mine?” He enunciated his words with uncharacteristically gentle kisses to your neck.

You hear the wet plap of him forcing the fabric of his tweng down enough for you to feel the weight of him on your back. You’re unsure if the tender caress from your sensitive belly up to the valley of your breast from his free hand is what makes you shiver, or the feeling of the heavy tip of his cock that still manages to hang down onto your body despite Ao'nungs desperate grip at his own base.

Instantly one of your hands reaches to clasp around his wrist that has moved electrifyingly close to your breast, dinging your nails into him ever so slightly, causing him to jerk slightly. You huff at the feeling of his tip smearing precum across the small of your back.

“I thought you wanted me to enjoy my morning- why must you torture me instead,”

There was that pretty desperate whine. That inexorable and perpetual babble that you put on to get the things you wanted from those around you. He wanted to say he had better resolve then them, but the sound of your frustration laced whine has the weight of his cock twitching against the pudge of your ass. The wrist you had grabbed onto continued its ascension up your body, fingers dancing up your neck until he could hold your mandible.

It’s endearing really, the view he’s greeted with. With the easy squish of the cute chub of your cheeks together between his big hand, he’s effortlessly forcing you to look up at him. The Metkayina were expressive, maybe because they signed to each other a great deal- you wouldn’t know. But you’d still thank Eywa for it, as you can’t deny the aura of pure desire that radiates off of his face like the heatwaves the morning sun had begun to cast across the horizon. Eyes blown out wide, and the ends of his kiss swollen lips curled into a soft smile.

A soft smile that doesn't match the feeling in your stomach when his big hand leaves your ass and wraps around the base of your kuru. You swear you see Eywa in his eyes, and he swears he hears her in your gasp. He’s quick to push his lips back onto yours despite the unnatural position. And though your spine and neck ache from the arch he has pulled you back into you can’t help but clank your teeth together as you kiss again. You’re not sure who’s spit is all over you both; all you know is the sloshing sound of your mouths and the embarrassing sound of water sloshing at the disturbance of his rocking hips that ground his twitching cock against your ass. He wanted to reach down and force your tail out of the way so he could relish in the feeling of you hammocking his throbbing cock- but he had something far more important to deal with.

The most beautiful girl in all of Pandora was sparkling in the sun below him, and you wanted him as terribly as he wanted you. He really did want you to enjoy your morning and promised himself you’d enjoy every morning after this one too.

“I need you,” You’re whining into his mouth.

The very woman he has painfully longed after- the love of his life- was moaning into his mouth as he kissed them. The huffy and croaked out, “Need all of you,” should have been all he needed to hear from you. All he had ever wanted to hear from you. Nonetheless, Ao’nungs egotistical charm was a facade. In actuality he was terribly insecure. In fact he couldn’t truly wrap his head around how he had even gotten this far with you. He grounds himself in the feeling of your heavy breaths against his lips before he speaks,

“Tell me how bad you want tsaheylu. Tell me how bad you want me to be your mate,”

He doesn’t mean the growling undertone of his voice, or the side to side grind of his hips against your ass, but he loves the feeling of your cute little tail rolling over his cock at the motion and he can’t control how good he feels. Your wide eyes would be enough consent, the adoration in your topaz iris unmistakable.

“Nga yawne lu oer,”

One of your hands reaches up to hook around his neck, letting your delicate hand wrap around the base of his own kuru. And in the same breath you just loved him in, you assure him-

“I see you, Ao’nung. I see the real you. I want you so bad,”

He would normally laugh at the weakened tug at his kuru, but all you want is for him to kiss you again. How could he laugh when his pretty girl is begging him so nicely? How can he not kiss you once more and run his big hand down your delicate kuru. Dance his fingers across the pretty, intricate and adorned goddess loc protecting it. Had he felt a bit meaner he would have twisted the little curls that escaped it’s end just to hear you squeal and whine.

He had more pressing matters. Something far more interesting for him to focus on. You had a bundle of nerves practically dying to be connected to him, flailing tendrils kissing the bottom of his abs. Desperately swiping across the water slicked skin of his stomach looking for his own nerves to curl and wrap into. You wanted to feel him. All of him and it drove him wild. By the time his fingers trail the nerves of your tswin you’re crying. Actual tears that clump your pretty long lashes together and redden the tip of your cute crinkled nose.

His throat hurts. Choking on his breath at your sparkling tears. He can’t help but use one strong arm to cradle you into his body, pulling your torso taught against his own and relishing in the feeling of your boobs squishing against his arm. He tries to sooth you, hushing you with a voice uncharacteristically gentle for the man you had spent the end of your childhood roughhousing and bantering with.

“Shhh, tanhì,” his head is besides yours again, and you welcome the feeling of your cheeks rubbing together, and the gentle nuzzling of his face into the crook of your neck, “Nga yawne lu oer, why do you cry pretty baby?”

He feels you clench below your tail when he asks, and he feels bad for the bead of precum that squeezes on the dip of your spine again. Your soft quivering,

“‘s too much,” as you shake your head a bit, “feel’s too much,” your rounded red eyes peer up at him again. You’re blushing now, purple and pretty for him.

“Let me feel it with you then, ya?” Your noses are slotted against each other when he moves to speak against the crown of your head, ending his question with a kiss to your slightly furrowed forehead. He lets the arm bracing you against him slowly begin to tweak your ridged nipple between his fingers. Letting himself enjoy the feeling of it hardening between his thumb and pointer finger, “Please, Ao’- wanna feel you,”

There’s a chuckling undertone in his huff as you drop forward on your arms again, bracing your palms onto the watery ledge. Though he had wanted to pull you back up, the sight of you arching your back and grinding yourself back into him grants you reprieve from having to hold yourself up.

It was almost difficulty, shaking your hips against him as well as you could from your knelt position, yet the stones assault on your knees was barely an afterthought as you had finally arched yourself in such a way that Ao’nung’s balls had finally began to drag blissfully across your swollen clit.

He doesn’t think you’ve ever sounded so pretty. Practically purring under him and gasping as you grind yourself against him and he paws at your breast. He’s proven wrong when he watches you jolt at the feeling of the hair at the end of his kuru raise towards where he dropped yours against your back. You feel the teasing kisses of his own tendrils on the skin just before where your own danced wildly waiting for him, “One more time baby, tell me you want me. I need you t’be sure,”

Had you not been driven mad by the slow pace he had subjected you to you’d have felt bad for the obvious crack in his voice. You hated that he thought you didn’t love him, it’s what drove you to reach up and grab for the base of his own braid,

“Ao’nung if you don’t i’m going to lose my-“

You don’t finish your reprimand. You can’t. Not when you feel his tswin latch onto yours, pulling you tightly into him. Tsaheylu. You had ridden ikrans and ilus of course- but this was different. Like a rush below your skin that left you panting in his arms. You had never felt like this before. Never throbbed like this before. All you could do was squeal as a relentless wave of wetness practically leaked from your twitching cunt. In a desperate attempt to ground yourself from the sudden rush of fire across your body you raise you hand from the base of his own kuru to the mass of curls held up in a bun.

You didn’t mean to yank at the tie that kept them out of the way. In fact, you were shocked when his inky tresses fell forward, covering you in a curled veil of obsidian and forcing you to drown in the smell of salted ambergris of the sea and smoke that was permanently locked in the ringlets of Ao’nungs mane. It blocked you from perceiving anything that wasn’t him, not only could you feel him, you couldn’t see anything besides him. He had engulfed your senses the same way he had engulfed your mind.

“Oh f-uck,” Eywa save you, his throaty whine makes you drop your body weight against the arm that had originally only been ghosting across your breasts, rendering you into a blubbering pile of putty forced to listen to him practically moan into your ear that, “I had no idea you were feeling so good baby,”

You can hear the swish of his paddled tail as it escapes the confines of the spring that you’d blame the sweat accumulating on your body to. You can feel how absolutely delighted he was. Though you couldn’t physically see where your nerves became his you couldn’t shake the picture between your eyes. As though the pretty loop of your braids had been branded behind the eyelid of your third eye by your mate.

“Ma’ pretty mate wants me so badly,” his opposite hand meanly grips at the fat of your hip, pulling you up to him.

You felt like a rag doll, pulled up against him just so he could grind you up and down against his length. He can understand why you were crying now. You felt a lot of emotions for having such a small form, it’s probably why you had the attitude problems you did. The mixture of panic and uncontrolled longing that tickled the pit of your stomach was an addicting feeling to him however. He makes a cruel grab at the base of your tail caressing his thumb on the smooth, sensitive skin under your tail.

“You’re either gonna move your tail out of my way or I'm going to move it for you,”

He’s straightening his back a bit as he speaks, arm sliding to let you go slightly, though his grip on your tit stays firm. Almost too quickly your tail curls up to give him a view he’s been dying for since he’s stumbled upon you this morning.

You’re swollen and flushed and so wet. He wonders how long you’ve been this sticky. And you don’t even care that he’s practically drooling over the sight of your pretty tail curled up because that pretty useless head of yours is too busy swirling with silly little thoughts about how much you loved him. He was sure it was some evolutionary effect to get people to keep having kids to keep their species alive, but to Ao’nung nothing has ever felt real to him. Maybe love was a scam for everyone else, but for him? Eywa herself couldn’t offer him more than the moment in front of him.

“Prettiest thing I ever fucking seen,” His hand had to leave your azure tail to palm at himself. He had only just began to realize how badly he was throbbing for you, “Need you so bad too,”

You rub yourself against him, pushing one of your hands down on the rock to offer more pressure

“Ao’nung please, i’ll be okay you can-“

You’re cut off with your own shaken breath when you feel him rub the blunt end of himself against your sticky slit.

“Nu-uh,” he’s hunched forward over you again, rubbing the head of his cock against your slit, “you can’t take it like this,”

It’s your turn to feel shared panic. Not that you focus on it, choosing to clutch to his arms as the speed of his steadily rubbing intrusions picks up. It feels good. Too good on your still stoned, too stimulated body. Too good considering you can feel how good he feels. Every time the tip of his cock slides over your swollen clit and catches another glob of slick that only makes it easier to speed his assault up you moan.

Your thighs clench against him, but it does little to deter him. Not at his size. Not when he’s obsessed with the fact that he’s so much bigger than you. There wasn’t a thing you could do to keep him from making you cum. It really was foolish for you to clench your thighs. It only served to create a new angle for him to rub against. The smile you can hear in his moans is almost as embarrassing as the sloshing sound of your cunt at the enjoyable pace he had set.

He really did want to finger you, he wanted to feel your pretty cunt clench down around his pointer and middle finger too terribly but he can’t avoid the painful throb of his cock any longer. He’d been ignoring the pulse of his lower stomach since he had first seen the heavenly image of you sitting nude in the water watching the pink and lilac sky kiss stars goodbye. He was glad you seemed to like the intrusion of him practically jerking himself into you. Coating his cock in the enticingly scented albumen of your slick. He could cum probably, if he wasn’t already buzzing with overstimulation.

The naive part of him is confused when he watches your hips roll away from him, thighs clenching. Maybe it means you want him away from you, but all he can feel is the part of you screaming in his brain to keep going. So his hips follow yours so he can continue the sloppy drag of his cock-head though your folds. He’s starstruck when he catches on your clit rather roughly and is gifted with the sight of your spazzaming leaking cunt.

He’s so occupied with the liquid leaving you’re pretty swollen hole that the hand holding your chest up drops down to your tail again, yanking your hips up. He drops his cock from his hands to continue his assault on you with his fingers to rub faster then he previously was. You scream and he’s never been happier. The sight of him holding you up by your tail (that now wraps up around his forearm) while you brace yourself up by your hands as he rubs an orgasm from you, extending it as far as he could.

He knows he made you feel good and it only adds to how good he feels. If he was a bit more shameless he’d have probably busted the second you started leaking onto his swollen tip. His patience was almost in vain as he watched you lay your head on your arms, sitting up on your knees more to arch your back for him.

“Ao’ wan’ you to feel good too,”

So considerate of him always. He can feel the throb of your pretty pussy from where he still holds your tail. He laughs a little, he can’t help it. It’s a little mean when he sends a softish spank to where your ass meets your thigh. It’s mostly just to see your pretty body jolt under him, and to hear your pretty whine but it’s also to give him a second to compose himself. He’s not trying to claim your pretty azure skin with his cum yet.

And you look at him with those pretty slitted eyes, plump lips curled into the softest snarl he’s ever seen on your bratty little face. He doesn’t mean to so unceremoniously hunch down to catch your face in his palm and kiss you. He’s just so excited that he finally has what he wants.

“I can put it in ya?” He mumbles against your lips,

“Gonna let me make you feel good?” He questions again, and it’s his turn for a twitch to shoot up his cock to the soft patch of fat below his abs at your pretty moan.

“Ao’ you can! You y-you don’t have to ask,”

He ignores the amusement over how snappy your sentence started, yet ended in hiccupy adoration filled stumbles. Once again he’s lining himself up against your slit, and with the added force you can finally feel the girth of him. You’re thankful he hasn’t let you see him fully yet, worried the sight might have unsettled you more than the feeling.

He has to refrain himself from shooting forward, shoving you full in one snap of his hips. Has to stand up and slide his weighty dick between your cheeks to lay it on your back just to remind himself how deep he’d be in you. Sliding against you for a few lazy thrusts just to admire the view. He's dumbfounded at how intrusive his cock would be in comparison to whatever Omatikaya loser Eywa had intended for you to be mated with before he had set his eyes on you. One hand moves to spread your cheek one more time, the other returning to its place on his cock to help guide him between your folds. He starts groaning as he pushes the tip in.

Warm. Fuck you’re warmer then the suns rays on his back. Warmer than the heat his downed hair traps around him. And you match his moan. A hypnotizing harmonization that’s only paused when he feels a foreign stinging. A warm burn where he had never felt pain before, and though it was nothing more than an inconvenience he couldn’t stand the idea of his girl in any pain. You didn’t even get a chance to whine at the stretch before two if his large fingers are clamoring over your bud, trying his best to roll tight figure eights to lessen the sting for you.

Ao’nung can’t help but be confused. He can feel you slicking up his cock as he pushes in, the sheer wetness welcoming him in with almost ease. The only resistance the clenching muscle could offer against his intrusion was the sheer tightness of it.

Why is one hand reaching up to dig your pretty nails into his thigh, to scratch and push at him even though you’re feeling so good? Do you forget he can feel you? Can he blame it on you feeling too good? He’s not even half way into you and yet your hips keep stuttering away from him. He’s even paused his movement to appreciate your little huffs over being split open on him,

“You are alright,” you feel one his hands wrap around your waist, guiding you to sit up on your knees all the way out of the water, forcing his cock to slide out slightly. He makes sure to guide your face up towards you, forcing your eyes to lock on his.

His big hand then sides under your thigh and pulls your one leg up. It’s an embarrassing display, Ao’nung holding one of your legs up against your chest so he could force the remnants of his aching cock into your hole.

“Ya yer pussy knows it’s mine. Good girl sucking me right in,”

Both of your round exultant eyes are locked onto each other as he bottoms out, his words making you clench down. You marvel at the flush of his face and the hiss that falls past his teeth after the wet plap of his balls hit your ass. You swear you can feel him against your fruit filled stomach. As though he had truly impaled you on something. There was no way he could have prepared you for such a stretch. It was nothing like any of the self imposed violations against your cunt by your own fingers- what Ao’nung was doing to you was entirely different. This was beyond any girlish fantasy that had ever crossed your mind about the man.

"I need a second please-wait,” you sound so desperate for someone who knows that he’d never think of pushing you past your limit- not this time, not like this. Not when you’ve been so kind as to let him mate with you. He doesn’t answer you, kissing up and down your neck and shoulders. Allowing himself to bite and suck as he rolls your clit between his fingers,

“Deep breath baby, I already taught you how to breathe. Don’t make me do it again,”

There’s a smile against your throat as you feel him suck particularly hard, it makes you smile too. You don’t know why you listen to him, taking in a deep breath and craning your neck to lay against his chest.

His ego has skyrocketed. Feeling how much you liked being crammed down on his dick while he played with your pretty clit, legs spread wide for him. He hasn't even really gotten started and you feel twitchy like before you came. He can admit you’re clouding his brain quicker then he intended. He hadn’t felt so brain dead since his very first rut (which he had spent the entirety of silently fixated on you). He doesn’t really mean to shift his hips, doesn’t mean to push his fat cock deeper into your sweet little hole-

"Ah fuck, too big- it's too big!"

The sight of your furrowed eyes looking up at him makes his chest tighten and his dick a little harder. You didn’t mean it- even if he could feel the aftershock of the burn that dances across your nervous system into his. He knows you don’t mean it cause you’re grinding your pretty cunt against him. Chasing the high his fingers against your clit are providing.

“Stop ya whining,” he knows he’s been nice enough to you. Which is why he pinches down on your swollen clit ever so gently, twisting softly between the pads of his fingers ruining how close to a second release you were. It feels good when it makes you jump and impale yourself deeper against his cock, "Maybe you're just really fucking tiny,"

And with his words he begins the slow roll of his hips forward. After the few experimental rolls of his hips in conjunction with his comforting mumbles that you would be fine, Ao’nung feels that he can finally pull almost all the way out of you. You hate the feeling of being empty so suddenly, and are almost too loud when he begins to deliver shallow thrust into you. The water of the spring is splashing below you, and the sound of the spring mixed with the violent wet slapping of your skin together would alert anyone who got too close to the springs as to the torture Ao’nung was putting you though.

As if he is reading your mind (he probably is in one way or another) his mean hand grips the fat of your thigh tighter, and forces the leg higher in effort to open you more- so far even that you feel your lips part completely- as he uses the fat of your thigh as reigns to deliver deeper thrust.

“Ya yer right, anyone could walk out here with your legs wide fuckin open for me, huh?” he starts, and you wrap your tail around his torso to keep yourself stabilized against his thrusts into you, “Toruk Maktos daughter getting fucked stupid in public,”

He’s biting you again, just to hear that pretty little squeal and feel your pussy clamp down on him. He knows he should wait just a little longer before revving up the brutality of his pace- but the sight of you drove him to madness. And feeling your fingers reaching up to knot into his hair and yank only spurs him on more.

Feeling you cum felt better the second time then the first time. Is dizzying how quickly this one crashes over you. He’s a little disappointed that there’s a lack of liquid to splash against his muscular thighs this time, but promised himself your third would be messy after seeing the creamy ring you left around his cock. A welcome addition of more lubricate so he could comfortably drag against your spongy wall. It mind numbing how good it felt to fuck you though it- he was sure you were tearing up his thighs with your pretty up kept nails but he couldn’t be bothered with the white hot burn when he feels the lingering throb of your orgasm.

“Wrap your arms around my neck, baby,” he pleads with his lips against you, thrusting at an almost animalistic pace.

The up kick in the power of his thrust distracts you. You don’t move quick enough for him as he growls, smacking at the bundle of nerves between your legs. It’s all it takes for you to jolt and snap your arms above you and wrap them around his neck.

It knocks the wind out of your smoke assaulted lungs when his other arm loops around your other thigh. Heaving you out of the water into his arms. You see the world from an uncomfortably high angle as he stands straighter. Gasping as you grasp the inky tendrils of his hair in a painful tug.

“Oh fuck,”

It’s sinful, the way he’s slamming you up and down on him. Bouncing you in the air like a toy. Small and weightless in his hands as he used you to cum. There was an ache in your hips at the position, the sea breeze against your exposed cunt only edged you on more though. You were shaking in his hands, and he’s never seen you so delicate and vulnerable for him- he’d be sure to make fun of how quickly his dick turned your sour bratty mood into nothing but a brain dead euphoric smile.

“All you fucking needed all these years, huh?” he asks you, “Woulda saved me so much grief if I had just mated with you then, huh?”

He isn’t expecting an answer, just mindlessly babbling to himself as he slides against the spongey spot of your cunt. It’s amazing to him how you jerk in his arms, stretching yourself backwards to clutch onto his neck better, straining your head sideways to pull at his hair and yank him into another sloppy kiss. Your wet lips are chilled by his breath as he pulls away,

“Touch your pussy for me baby, I wan’na cum so bad,”

As if he needs to feel your orgasm rip across his nervous system to make him cum. How could you deny the pretty aqua eyes pleading with you. It doesn’t feel as good when you do it considering you had grown so used to his much larger fingers padding against you but it still felt good. Too good to be so dirty. Too good to be mated in the early hours of the morning in a public space. His hips jerk up to match the painful drop of your ragdolled body against him and it makes you see stars. Stars that were successful in blinding him as well.

“Ya that’s it baby, don’t stop-“

It hurts to clench down on him. The painful snap behind your belly button could only be met with you dead weighing your body down deeper onto his cock and the fluttering push of your plush cunt.

He could have topped over with the speed he used to look down over your shoulder. He didn’t want to miss the sight of your pussy cumming for him. Not when you show him how much his pretty pussy can gush for him. He thought the small splash of liquid from your first orgasm was squirting- but at the sight of the liquid that sprays against the rocks ahead of you his thrusts grow sloppy. He doesn’t know how he was so lucky to have your juices splash up into him but he’s thankful for it- never wants the smell of you to leave his face.

How can he not want to cum at the feeling of your body completely giving into him. Laying limp in his big arms while he fucked up into you. There was no clenching resistance of your fluttering hole or pulling yourself up off of his body. Only his pretty girl in his arms getting filled the way no other man could ever fill her.

He hates how bad it hurts to slide out of you when he feels himself starting to cum. You offer no support in keeping his composure as your fingers slide down from where they rested on your cunt and gently caress the tips of your fingers against his tightening ballsack.

“You’re gonna make me cum,”

He knows he’ll never live down the breathy gasp of his words or moaning the way he does for you. He prays no one is within earshot of the wanton moans that leave his throat but he can’t help himself. You’re so wet and warm and tight. He swore there wasn’t a pussy in all of Pandora that would milk him half as well.

And Eywa, when he finally finds the strength to give in and pull out and your small palm wraps around the head of his cock, twisting and jerking him until an embarrassingly fat load shoots from him- he can't stop the loud growl that his moans turn into.

He would accredit the buckle of his knees to the fact that you were failing at aiming his cum towards your belly due to the erratic jerking of your hand against the tip of his cock, sending his cum not only over your pretty body, but shooting haphazardly onto the floor and most likely into the water. But the real reason for his weak legs was the sweet and huffed way you were babbling that you would love him forever.

#avatar x reader #avatar (2009)#avatar the way of water #ao’nung #ao’nung x reader #ao’nung smut #avatar fandom #avatar smut #neteyam #sully!reader #aonung x reader #aonung smut #aonung imagine

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hauntedministry · 1 year

Text

I will ruin you.

Pairings: dbf!Joel Miller x afab!reader

Word count: Approx 4.5K

Summary: After a long-term relationship ended badly, you decided it was best to return home, surrounded by people you knew, and grew up with. It had been years since you’d seen Joel and had always had eyes for him but knew never to act upon it.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! SMUT MINORS DNI!! Age gap, reader is in their 20s and Joel is in his 40s. Unprotected P in V sex (don’t be silly wrap your willy). Light degradation, ish. Brat taming kink also ish, let’s gooo (I mean dbf!Joel and brat taming go hand in hand). Spanking, risky sex, creampie, kind of stalker Joel but not really. If I can think of anymore or if you find more please let me know 🫶

A/N: This is my first fic I’ve posted so please let me know what you think! I’m also definitely not a writer this is mostly self indulgent 😅

The sun was setting as your dads pick up pulled into the driveway. You jumped out of the car and onto the pavement, there was a slight breeze that ran through your hair, it was a little chilly but still pleasant. Grabbing your bag from the front seat, you shut the door and let out a small sigh while you looked at the home where you grew up. It felt so nice to be back home. “Thanks for getting me, dad.” You say giving your dad a smile.

“Anytime sweetheart, it’s good to have you back home.” He pulled you in for a cuddle, and you felt instantly comforted. You’d missed him, barely being able to find the time to see him, let alone call. But now you had all the time in the world. He walked up to the front door and unlocked it. “After you, princess.” Your dad gestured while he stepped to the side.

“Hey come on now, enough of that, dad.” You rolled your eyes at the pet name while walking indoors. “I haven’t been ‘princess’ for years.”

“Ah well you’re still my little girl.” He replied and in response you groaned and shook your head with a smile. The last time you were able to visit home had been 3 years ago when your ex had actually given a damn about your life. You’d missed it so much. “I’ll let you get your things upstairs. Join me when you’re ready.”

“Thank you, I shouldn’t be too long!” You called down to your dad, already up the stairs and headed to your old room. You dropped your bag on the bed and sat down next to it, taking a moment to take in your surroundings. Most of things were as you left them, some decorations made you cringe as it was years since you had moved out. You then hopped off your bed and began to unpack a few items from your travel bag. The rest of your belongings were left at your exes. That was a task for another day you thought to yourself, now all you wanted was to relax.

Shortly after your dad had brought you two home, the front door was opened, then shut, then followed by a loud voice calling out to your dad. You’d investigate in a second but for now you just wanted a moment to yourself. After freshening yourself up you changed into a different outfit, a pair of charcoal mum jeans and a loose fitting baby pink sweater that you half tucked into your jeans.

You finally decided to show face and find out who the mystery visitor was. You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time before heading downstairs. After reaching the bottom step you walked into the living room and stopped in your tracks. “Oh my god, Joel?” You called out to the tall man standing next to your dad, he was wearing a simple black t-shirt that clung to his broad chest and it was paired with navy blue jeans. You didn’t think you’d see him again after he moved away so this was such a wonderful surprise. Joel and your dad had been friends for a very long time, they always helped each other out when they needed it. You hated to admit it but you had always had the hots for him for so many years. Joel turned his head towards you and also had to do a double take.

“Who the fuck is this?” He then looked back to your dad and your smile dropped, you felt a twinge of disappointment. “Ahh I’m just kiddin’ doll, c’mere!” with a grin and a chuckle, he pulled you in for a hug, his big arms wrapped around you, you instantly melted into him. You could’ve stayed there forever, his scent was intoxicating. “God it’s been like five years ain’t that right?” Joel said with his arms still wrapped around you, his chin rested softly on your head.

“Yeah it’s been a while.” You both finally broke away from the hug and you took this as an opportunity to really look him over. Gosh he was still as gorgeous as you had remembered, if not more so. “Last time I came home was about three years back, but I know you’d moved away. I didn’t think I’d see you again, what brought you back?” You ask trying to discreetly check him out, you could’ve sworn his eyes were trailing you up and down but you swiftly pushed away the thought. Joel had aged like a fine wine, his hair was growing a few more greys, his face gained more wrinkles but it suited him so well.

“Somethin’ ‘bout this place, just feels like home. Besides I had nothin’ keepin’ me back there anyway.” He caught your gaze and you snapped out of your daydreaming. Last time you’d seen him, he was head over heels for some woman, that must’ve ended or he wouldn’t be back you thought to yourself.

“I’m with you there Joel. Well I’m glad you’re back. So what’s my second favourite old man been up to?” You ask giddy with excitement and nudge his arm with your elbow.

“Old man? All this time to grow up and she still ain’t learnt any manners?” He shook his head calling to your dad who was in the kitchen and laughed, a deep belly laugh. You swear it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. Your dad came back from the kitchen with some beer bottles, you gladly accepted as did Joel.

“It comes from a place of love I swear!” You replied with a hand on your heart and a bat of your lashes. All three of you made your way to the couch and took your places, you sat on one end of the sofa, your dad next to you and Joel on the armchair just a little off to the side. He was sat with his legs wide, his large thighs constricted in his jeans. You had to remind yourself to look away.

“I know sugar, ‘m just teasin’.” He shoots you a wink from his side of the room. “Me an’ your dad found work together, like handy stuff fixin’ things an’ the like.” He took another swig from his bottle. Your dad got up to grab some snacks from the kitchen. “How comes you’re back home then? I thought you had found your Prince Charming?” He asked, looking you over for answers.

“Oh yeah, him.” You said, your tone lowering to an almost whisper as your thumb fiddled with the rim of your bottle.

“Oh my bad, doll. I-.” Joel rubbed the back of his neck as he saw your demeanour change.

“No no, it’s fine. He was just so immature and he’d fallen out of love a long time back.” You take a moment to gather yourself before continuing. “In the end I caught him with buried balls deep in some girl.” Joel was watching you recant the memory, he felt bad but in his mind he knew he was never right for you. “Just wish I could’ve seen it coming sooner.”

“I’m sorry, that must’ve hurt real bad.” You nodded slowly looking down at your bottle. “Stupid boy don’t know what he’s lost.” Joel continued, the compliment sending a warmth through your body, why did he have to be so goddamn charming.

“Still, that part of my life’s over, now it’s time to start a new chapter. And hey, could be worse at least I’ve got my two old boys with me.” You giggled, blushing slightly making contact with Joel’s beautiful deep brown eyes.

“Ah man come on now!” He retorted with a half grin.

The evening carried on filled with remembering memories and making stupid dad jokes. You’d missed just being able to be you around people you loved and cared about. And my god was it so good to see Joel again.

————————————————————————————

Joel came to your dads almost every morning to head off to their various call outs together. One morning, you had come downstairs in your pyjamas, a black cami top and short set with a lace trim. Before the two men set out you always offered to make them a cup of coffee. Joel always gave you a wink after thanking you, in return he gave you butterflies.

On another occasion, you’d just gotten out of the shower and you were sat on the side of your bed with a towel wrapped around you, putting moisturiser on your legs when Joel came upstairs to use the bathroom. He walked past your room and your eyes met his, he stilled for a moment and you could’ve sworn he lingered a bit longer than he should’ve, but he then swiftly continued his journey to the bathroom. You smiled to yourself and bit your lip. That same night all you could think about was the way he looked at you. Needless to say your hand found its way between your legs quicker than you’d like to admit.

The next evening, your friends had invited you out for a catch up and a sort of welcome home night out together. You dressed up in a tight fitting black dress mini that sat off the shoulders with long sleeves. Paired with black strappy heels and a little black shoulder bag. You felt good to be going out with friends not worrying about how to behave or looking at someone the wrong way, just free to do what you wanted.

At the bar your group had chosen, this guy kept looking you up and down from the bar, oh boy you knew where this was leading, and you were gonna follow suit. He was cute enough and recently there was only one thing on your mind, you knew you could never get what you wanted with Joel, so random guy from the bar would make do. You headed over to the bar and ordered a drink. “Make that two!” The guy called to the bartender. You both chatted away over the loud music, not really paying attention to what he was saying anyway. Eventually you both decided to cut the bullshit and head back to yours.

When the two of you got back to your dads, you fumbled around in your purse for your key and eventually opened the door. His hands were on you immediately, pulling down the neckline of your dress exposing your breasts. Images of Joel flashed in your mind wishing it was him who was fondling you. But this would do for now as a temporary fix.

You both stumbled into the living room, the room was tinted orange from the soft glow of the streetlight outside. You bumped into the arm of the sofa and pulled him down on top of you. You were giggling but you were trying to keep quiet and you were in also in a rush, it had been so long since someone had touched you. His hands grabbed at your tits and gave your nipples a pinch. “What about your dad?” He asked between breathy kisses.”

“Sleeping, shh.” Was all you replied. He nodded and was clearly also in a hurry as his shirt was whipped off his body in a flash and then he began to unbutton his pants, he started to pull up your dress when the front door swiftly opened and clicked shut and in walked Joel fucking Miller.

You’d never asked his name, and frankly you didn’t care, but the half naked guy shot up from the sofa, fear riddled his face. “Ah shit, look man I’m sorry. She asked me to come home, I promise we weren’t gonna do anything.” He kept rambling on, trying to make up some excuse. The shock of Joel catching you like this paralysed you momentarily, unable to think or move. Then you snapped out of it and quickly pulled up the top of your dress to cover yourself.

“Get out.” Was all Joel said, his voice was deep and gravely and his eyes not leaving yours once. The guy scrambled to dress himself again and get out of the house. You grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Hey no hang on, you can’t tell me what to do. He can stay.”you tried to stand up for yourself but the guy was already wriggling out of your grasp and headed to the door apologising profusely as he rushed past Joel. You thought Joel was gonna attack him as he was breathing heavily through his nose. Joel’s whole demeanour changed and you had never seen him like this, of course it was turning you on even more, how could it not? Joel’s eyes returned to you.

“Him, really?” He looked at you with disgust his words like venom spitting from his mouth. You clenched your thighs together. God why did this make you even hornier?

“Oh my god, Joel, you’re not my dad!” Your hands covered your face from embarrassment. “Why are you here anyway it’s like one in the morning?” You asked him trying to keep your voice down.

“Your dad left his tools at mine, he needs them early, and I couldn’t sleep.” He nonchalantly replied. Your eyes dropped down to see the toolbox in hand. Okay it was a bit of a weird alibi but you went along with it. “So I thought I’d be nice and drop ‘em off for him. But don’t go changin’ the subject, you’ve not even been home a week? And you’re already causin’ trouble. I knew you hadn’t changed.” He spat at you with disgust. “Lettin’ some silly little boy get his hands on you in your dads home, while he’s asleep? He’ll be so disappointed.” Joel’s head turned in the direction of the stairs.

“No, no, no no no.” You waved your hands out in-front of you. “Seriously though, you’re not gonna tell him?” You looked at him searching for an answer. “Joel what the fuck? I can do what I fucking want, if I want to fuck someone I can, it’s my body I’ll do what I want with it.”

“Shut your mouth!” He suddenly grabbed you by the throat and squeezed ever so slightly. Fear shook your body but you could feel your wetness pooling, you clenched your thighs again to feel some form of release. A moan was caught in your throat, and then it hit you. The realisation. Joel was jealous.

“You fucking pervert, Miller.” You said to him. Joel only squeezed tighter. “You just didn’t like the thought of me with another guy, that’s right isn’t it? You’re a jealous old man.” He pushed you back down onto the sofa by the throat. His hand felt so good wrapped around your neck, you were disappointed by the loss.

“I said shut your fucking mouth you little brat.” His body caged you in as he towered over you and pointed a thick finger to your face.

“Make me.” You bravely replied, with an eyebrow raised. You were almost challenging him.

“You really wanna try that shit with me?” Joel’s eyes had darkened and his voice deepened.

“I said, make, me”. You repeated and then a sharp slap stung you across the left side of your face then his large hand grabbed your jaw. Your eyes widened with shock, once more you found yourself squeezing your thighs together.

“Fuckin’ knew you were still a little brat. And the way you been walkin’ round wearin’ next to fuckin’ nothin’. You knew exactly what you were doin’ ain’t that right doll? Knew I couldn’t keep my eyes off ya.” Joel grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you back up, he then took your spot and brought you down over his knee. His large hands pulled up the skirt of your dress exposing your ass to him. He brought his hand down on your cheek a loud slap echoed through the living room. A sharp gasp broke through your mouth, his hand felt so good, the sting painful but pleasurable at the same time. You bit your lower lip hard stopping yourself from moaning and god forbid waking up your dad. Joel quietly chuckled. “You’re lovin’ this ain’t you doll? You filthy little thing.” You nodded and moved your hips trying to grind yourself against his thigh. “This what you wanted? How many times you thought about me? ‘Bout the things I could do to you? Huh?”

“T- too many.” You replied shamefully, your face and ass stinging from the contact. He continued spanking you making your behind tender and sore. He then yanked down your black panties exposing your aching pussy to him. You were ashamed just how much this was turning you on, you were dripping.

“Such a pretty little cunt. Dripping for me and I’ve not even touched you yet.” He then pressed two fingers against your folds to smear your juices around. A soft moan came from your mouth. “Mmm, could bury myself in you right now you’re so wet.”

“Joel, please I need you. I need you so bad.” You whined, aching for him. He then helped you up off his knee and turned you to face him. His hands made quick work of helping you out of your dress, when it reached the floor you stepped out and kicked it away.

“Look at you. So perfect.” Joel complimented as his hand palmed his growing bulge. “I will ruin you. Do you realise that, doll? Are you sure that’s want you want?” Joel questioned. “I’m tellin’ ya now sugar, if we do this I ain’t gonna be able to stop myself.” You could tell that he needed you just as much as you needed him. “All you’ll be able to think about is how my cock tears your pretty little pussy up.”

“Joel, please.” You begged, he looked at you with an eyebrow raised. “I’ve wanted you for so long you have no idea.” Under the soft orange street light you could see a devilish grin plastered across his face. “Always thought about what you could do to me.” You watched as Joel began undressing himself, he pulled down his jeans and his boxers. His thick cock sprung free and slapped against his stomach. You bit your lip as you watched it twitch. His hand gripped his length and he began pumping gently. Joel’s free hand was on you once more as he turned you around and guided your throbbing core over him.

“Now, sugar, you’re gonna fuck yourself on me, show me how bad you want this.” Your cheeks flushed red as you lifted a leg up onto the sofa for balance as you lowered yourself onto him. The stretch he provided was painful yet deliciously, you whimpered while you accommodated his thickness. “Ooh my, g- god.” He moaned as you finally took all of him inside. His hands found their way under your ass to help you as you started to bounce.

“Fuck, Joel.” You whined as you rode him. “You feel so big.” Soft sounds of skin slapping could be heard as Joel began to match your rhythm. He wrapped an arm around your waist and his hand found purchase on your breast, he squeezed firmly.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good for me, doll.” Joel whispered his praise to you as you bounced on his cock. “If only your daddy knew what his precious little angel was doing right now.” As if on cue, your dads bedroom door opened and then his shuffling footsteps slowly followed him down the stairs. “Shh, shhh. Gotta keep quiet babygirl.” Joel whispered in your ear. “Can’t have your daddy finding you like this can we?” He pulled you down to lay beside him, hiding both of you behind the big cushions on the sofa. His left hand was clamped tight around your mouth and his right was working at your clit, rubbing perfect circles that sent waves of pleasure all over your body. Joel had you pressed tight against his chest, he was still stuffed balls deep inside you, slowly thrusting. Your eyes rolled back, as Joel’s lips attacked your neck, sucking on the same spot. Your dad had reached the bottom of the stairs and then switched on the light in the kitchen and the tap began to run.

Joel continued to fuck you painfully slowly. Each trust driving you insane with need, he’d pull his hips back so his tip was barely inside then he’d push all the way in. A squeal escaped from your mouth through Joel’s hand and your eyes widened. The tap stopped running. Your heart plummeted. Joel only continued rubbing your clit. You tried to swat his hand away, afraid you wouldn’t be able to keep quiet. He of course ignored you and the action only spurred him on more. The coil in your stomach began to tighten, you knew what was coming. Joel could feel it too, your walls fluttering around him, he rubbed your clit faster to get you closer. You were trapped under his hold, unable to do anything but give in to the pleasure he was providing. Then it hit you, your eyes shut tight as you came harder than you ever had before, his hand pressed harder into your face as more moans left your mouth. Your legs spasmed and trembled from the aftershock. Joel then removed his hand from your clit but he still continued thrusting, working you through your orgasm as your walls clenched around him, Joel huffed and bit down on your earlobe even he was trying to control himself.

Finally your dad left the kitchen, but he paused by the living room for what felt like forever, then he turned and ascended the staircase. As soon as the bedroom door clicked shut Joel pulled out and you almost cried at the loss. He shimmied out from behind you and got off the couch. He then wrapped his muscular arms around your legs and roughly pulled you towards the edge of the sofa and you let out a soft giggle. Joel then spread your legs apart allowing him better access, he positioned himself in front of your cunt and rubbed his painfully hard cock against for folds, slapping it against your clit occasionally. He then aligned his cock with your entrance and slammed his hips forward, knocking the air out of your lungs. He relentlessly rutted into you, his balls slapping against your ass. “Bet’cha that stupid little boyfriend of yours couldn’t make you feel this good?” Joel’s tone was lowered, but you could hear the need in his words, the need to please you.

You violently shook your head. “He never made me cum.” You admitted. “He couldn’t do it. I always faked it too.” You felt guilty but it was the truth, he just couldn’t get you over the edge. A low chuckle came from Joel at your admission.

“Fuckin’ knew he was useless.” Joel grinded into you, his tone almost angry, his eyes were trained on your cunt. You looked down too and watched as his thick length repeatedly disappeared inside you. That familiar feeling deep inside began to build once more. Joel moaned also losing himself in the pleasure. “Mmm, gonna cum for me again aren’t you?” You moaned a mhm as a pathetic response unable to form your words. You reached out to grab onto the back of the sofa with one hand, the other pressed flat against the cushions to steady yourself. Your mind was dizzy with lust and desire as the band snapped and tingles coursed through your body. “See that, fuck babygirl, you can’t fake that, how tight your pussy grips me. Feels like heaven.” He groaned at how your cunt contracted around him tightly.

You watched Joel’s face as he slowed his pace to pull back a little. He lowered his head slightly and then spit onto your pussy, his saliva trailed down from your clit to your entrance. Joel groaned as he then fucked into you hard and fast. “Oh- oh my go- god!” You moaned out in breathy rasps.

“Looked so pretty at the bar, sugar.” Joel mumbled. “The way you were dancin’, knew I had to have you.” He continued, your eyes widened and your eyebrows raised. “Then that pathetic idiot got his hands on you, I could barely watch, nearly gave him a black eye right there.” Joel fully gave into his need and continued slamming his cock into you again and again.

Joel’s thrusts then started becoming sloppy, his rhythm was lost as his climax was closing in. “Fuck, doll, don’t think I’m gonna last much longer.” He pants, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. Seeing him losing his control would probably have been enough to make you cum again. You placed a hand on the side of his neck and pulled him down closer you, his hand gripped your waist and his other pressed against the back of the sofa. The angle was perfect, causing you to become even tighter for him. A deep moan erupted from Joel as he was nearing his release. He removed his hand that was on your waist and brought his thumb to your mouth. “Open.” He ordered, and you obeyed, opening your mouth to allow his thumb inside. You sucked on it and he pulled it out with a pop. He began rubbing your clit with his wet thumb, your legs quivered from the contact.

You could tell Joel was trying to stop himself from spilling into you, but he didn’t need to hold on much longer as your own climax finally broke through. You couldn’t hold it in anymore and a string of pornographic moans came from you. Joel couldn’t last any longer either, the way your cunt squeezed him after your orgasm sent him over the edge. He too moaned loudly as his hips jerked while he unloaded himself deep inside you. He fell forwards slightly and used his hand that was pressed against the sofa to balance himself, Joel stilled momentarily to catch his breath before quickly pulling out.

Joel’s eyes were locked on your face, he thought you looked perfect. “I could watch this forever.” His gaze then broke and trailed down to your puffy cunt, cum was leaking out of your hole. He reached his right hand and his finger traced up and down smearing his juices all over. “You look so pretty like this, all fucked out an’ silly, and it’s all for me.”

You were still comprehending what had just happened when Joel bent down and placed a soft kiss to your temple. “You did so good for me, doll.” He praised, then he grabbed his pants and dressed himself. He shot you a wink and left you on the sofa dripping and fucked out of your mind. The front door quietly clicked shut and you heard the soft hum of his engine fade away.

Thank you for reading! 🖤

#dbf!joel miller #joel miller x reader smut #Joel miller x reader #dbf!joel #tlou smut #joel miller #Joel miller smut

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jo-harrington · 1 year

Text

Sales Pitch (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader has a new customer.

Warnings/Themes: Silly. Fluffy. Tiny bit of implied mutual pining. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. They're both kind of romantic and in need of some affection. Eddie is also a big loser and afraid to just ask someone out, luckily the reader is also hopeless and thinks he's kind of cute.

Note: Wrote this after posting Closing Time. After I wrote that, my brain just took me away. Because if I know anything at all, it's Shopping Mall romance (unfortunately the bad part of it, but still. Let me project and be self indulgent.)

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

"Ok, I'm going," your closing lead hustled towards you from the stockroom door, pulling her purse open for a bag check. "Did you want me to bring you anything back?"

"Nah, I'll grab some dinner after I leave. Thanks," you smiled and quickly glanced over her wallet, chewing gum, and walkman. "Have a good break."

You allowed yourself a moment of peace once she left--the store finally empty after a busy afternoon--before working on the mindless task of restocking the scrunchie wall.

Everything felt like it moved at light speed the past few months. First you had received your diploma from the local community college. Then you were offered the store manager promotion you had been working toward for years. You were in a new town--a new state--with an apartment of your own and actual neighbors; there were no pesky family members to drop by unexpectedly and pester you about your life choices like they had for your entire life.

You had a store and team of your own that you adored, through all of the ups and downs--although it had been mostly ups so far. The sparkly new StarCourt mall was a hit with the residents of Hawkins and the rest of Roane County. With the Grand Opening overlapping with the arrival of summer, the mall had been bustling with activity and people eager to shop.

After a lifetime of people pleasing tendencies, it was nice to bask in the praises of your district manager and all of the suits from corporate who had made the trek out to visit one of the youngest SMs in the company running what was quickly becoming one of the highest earning stores.

But Mall Life was still Mall Life, and with this new adventure away from everything you had ever known, it was nice to find comfort in your typical routines. Writing schedules, treating yourself to an Orange Julius on breaks, counting dollar bills crumpled from the hands of sweaty kids. Cracking jokes with your team members, listening to the gossip of whose-boyfriend-was-flirting-with-who from the one part-timer who was also a life guard at the community pool, walking around the empty mall after store hours, and piercing ears for 8 hours a day.

It was a whole lot of...nothing, sure. But you could do it for as long as you needed to. The independence was too good to give up for now. You could wait until the next big thing came into your life.

Right?

The bell rang, alerting you to your new customer, and as a reflex, you looked up and greeted.

"Welcome in, be right with you."

"Take your time, I’m just having a look around,” he responded with a shrug. You were sure he was feeling as out of place as he looked--with his band tee, flannel, and ripped black jeans--amongst the pastel jewelry and neon scrunchies.

You knew him...sort of. As much as anyone really knows anyone else who worked in a mall.

The tall, wide-eyed, and--quite frankly--cute metalhead with fluffy hair from Tape World.

He had been on duty when you barged in during opening week. Your shop radio had stopped working and you had driven home in a panic to grab your old portable stereo but you had unfortunately forgotten your tapes. He had easily navigated the crowded aisles to pluck a selection of them for you to bring back upstairs. He cracked some kind of joke, but in your rush to get back to the store, you totally ignored it. And you vaguely remember being kind of rude.

You felt really bad about it later in the day--no one deserved attitude from a shitty customer--and you had brought down a bag of cookies from the food court for him at the end of your shift as a thank-you-slash-apology. Unfortunately he had left for the day, according to the closing manager.

You had seen him around a few other times, crossing paths as you headed to the employee parking lot after hours or during breaks in the food court. You'd tried smiling or saying hi--your old store manager had taught you it was good practice to be nice to your neighbors at the mall. At first he had scowled, then eventually simply avoided you, turning his eyes away at first glimpse of you. Letting his long legs carry him faster to get further away.

You didn't know what you were hoping to gain from making amends with this guy specifically...

Actually, you did know. You wanted to make a friend.

You didn't really know anyone outside of your team and your landlord. You could just go and strike up a conversation with the staff at another store during your breaks, but given how crowded the mall was, you didn't want to be the type of person who bothered them while they were busy. You at least could say, in some capacity, that you had an excuse to start some kind of conversation with Tape World Guy.

Even if it was just to finally apologize.

The well-practiced customer service character that you had played for years was getting tiring to constantly wear in this new environment, especially after hours. You even found yourself doing it at the grocery store, hoping it would get you some sort of human interaction.

And did you forget that he was cute?

All of your old coworkers had their little mall romances that you had always been a little jealous of. Regular customers who would come in just to flirt, and then buy some random little trinket before they left. Or employees from other stores who would take an extra 5 minutes on their break so they could walk around the mall together. Sweet little notes that had been thrown through the gates for their partners to find when they came to open for the day.

Deep down you could admit that while friendship was your main goal...it would have maybe, sort of, been a little nice if Tape World Guy thought you were cute too.

God, it was such a stupid idea.

You had put all of those thoughts to rest since he seemed to want to avoid you at all costs. But here he was now, crouching in front of a tower full of jelly bracelets. This could be your chance to salvage things, even if it was just to find a friend.

You put down the box you were holding and dusted off your hands as you approached him.

"Was there something specific that you were looking for?" you began with your typical spiel. The hand that was rifling through the bracelets immediately retracted and he stood to his full height.

There was a brief deer-in-the-headlights look in his eye before it shifted into something more nonchalant.

"Just killing some time on break." He stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels a bit. "I, uh...I work downstairs. At Tape World."

"I know," you nodded.

"You do?"

Ok so that explained the scowling: he just didn't remember you. You were just some random person smiling at him whenever you saw him. That was...

Embarrassing.

...a relief.

"You helped me out one time. I was in a panic and you kind of saved my ass," you explained with a laugh. You looked down slightly. "You're also still wearing your lanyard."

His hands immediately came up to grab at the lanyard around his neck with his name tag and keys. Not Tape World Guy. Eddie.

He looked like an Eddie.

"Right," he chuckled. "I keep forgetting I have this thing."

"At least you're forgetting that you're wearing it and not forgetting it at home," you offered. "That's happened to the best of us."

"Well that's a jinx if I've ever heard one, sweetheart," he grinned. It was a nice smile, one that lit up his entire face and brightened his eyes.

There was a short pause and you felt stupid just standing there staring at him.

"Well, if you need anything, I'll just be--"

"The sign in the window!" He interrupted you, voice breaking slightly. "It, uh, said free ear piercings."

"Oh, um, yeah," you nodded.

"Great, I'll do that then."

"Well actually," you elaborated as he approached your piercing station. "The whole piercing process is free, you just need to buy the earrings."

"Oh. That's fine." he settled into the chair, pulling the little teddy bear, the one that brought the kids some comfort as they were getting their piercings, onto his lap. "Any employee discounts?"

"Unfortunately not, sorry. Not for mall employees; just store employees."

“That sounds like you’re offering me a job. How tempting," he hummed.

"Uhhh--"

"But I'll have to pass," he made the bear wave its hand dismissively. "I don't have enough neon pink in my wardrobe to match the dress code."

You looked down at your own outfit for a second; yeah you looked like something out of the Seventeen Magazine Back to School issue. It was a little ridiculous but you always tried to look the part of cool mall girl.

"That's a shame; one of the unspoken rules is Dress to Impress the customer," you laughed. "Although, your hair would look great with scrunchies."

It really would. You could see it in your mind's eye. His curly mane pulled back messily, a few of the shorter pieces framing his face.

"We would meet our sales goal every day."

"I would be the number one scrunchies salesman. Hands down." His voice took on a richer quality as he sat a little taller and placed a hand across his chest. "Alas, I am a purveyor of cassettes. The best in all of Indiana."

"Really?" You laughed.

"My talents would be wasted here," Eddie concluded.

"Alright," you held your hands up. "You can't say I didn't try."

You got him set up with a clipboard and pen to fill out the piercing form as you got the station sanitized and ready. He would scribble some, then stop a few times, along with an intake of breath. You waited for him to ask whatever question he had, but he would then just ask the bear.

"Do you know the number to the plant? Yeah didn't think so."

"I don't know, do you think I should sign the liability? What if my ear falls off."

He got really quiet though once he was done filling the form out and you started marking his earlobes. He watched you with those big, wet, brown eyes and occasionally worried his bottom lip with his teeth before his tongue darted out to soothe it.

It was really distracting.

"Can I ask you something?" he broke the silence and you backed away from him slightly.

"Yeah?" He just stared at you silently and you wondered if he was just nervous. "Everything ok?"

He clutched the teddy bear and then relaxed his grip slightly.

"Broken Hearts or Gummy Bears?" he finally asked, avoiding eye contact for a moment. You frowned and opened your mouth to reply but he beat you to it. "For the earrings. I saw them over there and...I couldn't choose."

As he rambled about the pros and cons of each, you took a breath and put your hand on his shoulder.

"Are you afraid of needles?" you asked, interrupting him.

"What?"

"Needles," you repeated. "You just...seem nervous and I'm not going to blame you if you change your mind. It happens all the time."

"Well--"

"And I'm probably not supposed to say this to a customer but the piercing gun is...not the best experience." On your first anniversary as a sales associate, your old boss had taken you to get your cartilage pierced and she told you to never trust the piercing gun. "So if you don't want to do this, I won't make you."

He took a breath and then began rambling.

"It isn't that I don't want to." His voice sounded a little strained. "And I'm not afraid of needles; I have a couple of tattoos, actually. They’re not anything professional really. But I'm in a band. I'm, um, lead guitarist. Frontman most of the time but my buddy Jeff...well he's gotta work on his confidence."

For a second you wondered if Jeff wasn't the only one who needed to work on confidence. Tattoos or not, maybe he was just...afraid...

Maybe that cool exterior earlier was just...an act. You'd been there before, plenty of times. Play it cool until you could convince yourself to go through with something. Or until you chickened out.

Ok, you could work with this. You could help him get through this.

"That's pretty cool," you told him truthfully, trying to hype him up. It was cool. "The tattoos and the band."

"Really?" You nodded. "And new hardware would, uh, be really metal. If I did get it."

"Absolutely," you agreed. "You'd be a local trendsetter; all of your fans would be lining up outside so they could look like you."

"Fans," he chuckled dryly. "Right. Well, anyway, it's just...I'm on break and I only had a small window of opportunity to come up--"

"I get it."

"--and see if you wanted to hang out sometime."

Sure.

Wait.

You froze and had to collect yourself for a second as your brain broke.

Hang out? Was he asking...just to hang out or to hang out? Wait...he wanted to hang out with you?

"What?" you muttered. His eyes got really big.

"It's just that you're new in town, right?" He started. "And I thought...well shit, I thought I could show you around. Or if you wanted company sometimes at lunch, because you usually sit by yourself. And trust me, dude, I know it sucks to sit by yourself at lunch."

He knew you sat by yourself? Maybe all of those times you thought he was trying to ignore you, he was just nervous.

He laughed and looked down at the teddy bear.

"But I get it if you don't want to," he continued. "I know Stacey Andrews works here too; I don't know if she's said anything to you about me. She's a huge blabbermouth."

He winced.

"Not that...not that there's anything wrong with that. Gossiping is kind of all you can do in a small town like this."

"I get it," you said. The town you grew up in wasn't that small...but it was a tight knit community and everyone knew everything about everyone. And yeah, Stacey was kind of a blabbermouth.

"I figured," he shrugged, suddenly looking dejected. He played with the ears of the bear for a second and then stood up. "But yeah, I thought...I would at least ask."

Wait, did he think you were saying no?

“Sorry about wasting your time.”

"Hey, wait," you stopped him before he could head towards the door. "A tour of town sounds great. And company at lunch."

"You don't have to say that just to be nice," he said dismissively, trying to brush you off.

"I'm not, please believe me" you insisted with a smile. He stopped in his tracks and looked at you. "If you have some...bad boy reputation in town or whatever, I mean, yeah that's kinda hot, but that's fine. But you're up here offering friendship to someone new, so even if Stacey was gossiping about you--which she wasn't by the way--I think I'm smart enough to figure out that you're not as bad as other people think you are. Or you think that they think you are.

"And really, it doesn't matter what others think. Because what I think is that you're a sweet, considerate, kind of goofy, definitely metal, neon-lacking, guitar-playing guy who is gonna show me the best place to get pizza in town because I've just been getting it downstairs before I go home and, I've gotta say, it isn't great."

Did you say all of that in one breath? Because you were definitely a little light-headed now.

He stared at you for a while before that grin took over his face.

"You think I'm hot?" he asked.

"Uh," you frowned and thought back on your words. Maybe you blacked out a little bit too. Did you say that? "No?"

"Because you definitely said I was kind of hot."

"I--" Why didn’t your brain work? "I said...I said having a bad boy reputation was kind of hot."

"But I'm the one with the bad boy reputation," he explained. "Therefore, I am the hot one."

"I also called you goofy."

"You said a lot of things, sweetheart," he laughed. "Including pizza. Which I can guarantee that I provide the one and only comprehensive Pizza Tour of Hawkins. So. When are you free?"

When were you free?

"Fridays usually...or I close on Sundays."

"Well, wouldn't you know, I also close on Sundays."

"Great!" You grinned. "It's settled then. This Sunday after close."

"Great. I'll see you then," he bowed--bowed--and then walked out of the store.

You briefly relived the entire interaction in your brain as you went back to the piercing station to save the abandoned supplies.

Ok, so a date, but maybe not a date. At the very least, pizza with a new friend on Sunday.

God, you couldn't believe you called him hot.

The bell rang and you turned to greet your next customer only to find your new friend there again, slightly out of breath this time.

"My name's Eddie, by the way," he said and you smiled.

"I know," you giggled.

"You do?"

"It's on your name tag."

...

Next Part: Standard Operating Procedure 1.01

#Eddie munson #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things drabble #Eddie munson drabble

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14dyh · 5 months

Text

Nerdy Love | H.Z.

Pairing: Hange Zoë x reader Summary: Hange with a nerdy lover headcanons! (Science Edition: Chemistry, Botany, Physics, and Astronomy) A/N: the physics part was pretty self-indulgent, i just want to share the world of science with Hange :")

Hange with a nerdy lover...

Chemistry

if you're a chemistry nerd,

Hange would be overjoyed at having someone who shares their favorite subject with them

when you first met, they sat beside you in the lab and went on talking about chemistry and such

enthused by your knowledge, Hange will begin to search even deeper chemistry knowledge so they can keep longer conversations with you

periodic table of elements jokes (Hange will, I just know)

will probably bring their own microscope kit when there is no schedule for lab

will look at you like you hung the stars even when you're talking about highly toxic chemicals

looks at you with heart eyes even if your hair is mostly disheveled from working for hours in certain chemicals

thinks you look adorable in safety goggles

shares a matching chemistry-themed coffee mug with you that looks like a beaker

one time, you had a lab accident but Hange was there, and unsurprisingly, they are efficient at first aid. their presence was a huge comfort, and they made sure you wouldn't panic the entire time

making sure you have appropriate experiment equipment is their love language

Botany

if you're a botany nerd,

Hange will try to impress you by identifying leaves around the school garden

will give you a leaf with a unique shape they found

will also pick the best tree bark piece for you (the one that doesn't have a brittle texture, it's sturdy enough that you can turn it into a pendant)

will show you a collection of dried leaves they tucked on their enormous books as a bookmark

they adore textured plants so they would be so happy to find some in your garden

loves the vibrant flowers that grow in your garden

they would likely want to surprise you by growing a plant and giving it to you on valentine's day

lotsssss of plant puns

knows how you water each of your plants because they always observe you when doing it

loves the way you observe each plant, knowing well if it grew new leaves, flowers, or fruits

they take you to garden dates <3

Physics

if you're a physics nerd,

Hange loves interactive toys that use physics. they would probably share lots of that with you

both of you would fall asleep together listening to Feynman lectures (it was relaxing, trust me)

this post:

you could talk to them about the most obscure physics theories and they'll know what you're talking about (which makes your heart leap with joy and end up kissing them on the cheek several times)

they're genuinely interested even if you're talking about steam engine history for hours

you get pissed off when the laws of motion are discussed in such a shallow, abecedarian way in high school and Hange adores your pouting face.

loves helping you out with calculus problems in physics

they became invested in chemical physics because of you

exchanges science books with annotations for you at least every week

loves silly, theoretical questions with you

listens attentively to you even if you're describing light and optics during a school disco party

adores you when you discuss torque mechanics using a basketball during PE

even when walking past a river, you can't help but tell them the amazing hydrodynamics of the flowing water. Hange loves seeing the sparkle in your eyes whenever you describe the beauty of the world using physics

volunteers to participate in your mini physics experiments

they are very resourceful so they mostly help you with applying physics to real-life devices/inventions

their eyes lit up when they see both of your inventions materialize but they're more happy to see how delighted you are

(i still remember how happy they were when they successfully developed the "Executioner from Hell")

it's canon that Hange has the best intuition and analyzing skills in AOT so you get along very well since those qualities abide by the principles of physics

these headcanons are mostly modern au bc AOT is depressing but I bet you and Hange would most likely bond over developing or designing weapons or devices for the Survey Corps

(personally, I believe that they would most likely be a physics teacher in modern au since most of their inventions use physics)

This teacher reminds me of Hange so much

Astronomy

if you're an astronomy nerd,

Hange still teases you about the day you met because your conversation starter is what is your favorite star

they adore you and even tell you their favorite constellation

probably gave you one of those glowing circular glass lamps with the solar system inside for valentine's day

romantic stargazing :D

and planetarium dates!

they love hanging out in your room because you can talk for hours while gazing at glow-in-the-dark astronomy stickers on your ceiling

you have matching astronomical sphere ball necklaces (probably have both of your initials too)

you share an astronomy playlist (could just be music or podcasts)

(self-indulgent but I think they would enjoy StarTalk and SciShow Space marathon with you)

they have this cute habit of giving you star-shaped food or any object that happens to be star-shaped ("this reminded me of you :D" they'll say)

your space movies watchlist will be playing on movie nights, Hange will also share a sci-fi movie list with you in return

they'll surprise you with intriguing astronomy questions and your heart leaps because you know they've been paying attention whenever you talk about your interests

I'm pretty sure Hange would also enjoy watching Rick and Morty, Futurama, The Big Bang Theory, Fullmetal Alchemist and such with you, especially in their downtime. Aside from science documentaries, that is.

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bearsbeetsbeskar · 5 months

Text

Sheep Days with Joel (post outbreak)

Word count: 5.9k (im so sorry i genuinely can't believe I wrote this much about an old man taking care of livestock) Rating: swearing, descriptions of an animal birth (I tried to make it not too gross or explicit), traumatic animal birth, discussions of labour and stillbirths Summary: At Tommy and Ellie's insistence of him finding a routine, Joel is appointed as the sheep caretaker in Jackson. After all, sheep are quiet, and do what they're told. How hard could it be? A/N: this is purely self indulgent, peepaw playing with animals. No romantic interest or pairing, just wholesome father daughter interactions, along with some other characters. Something about the holidays made me think about that conversation that Joel and Ellie had over the fire, and his dream of owning a sheep ranch, and before I knew it 5k was written. If you have read all of this, please know that I love you so incredibly much and you make it worth it to keep writing these silly little stories that bring me so much joy. main masterlist

Life in Jackson had a way of moving at the speed of molasses, while also propelling itself further into the future at the speed of light.

Some days were syrupy and slow, thick with palpable moments of survival, tension and freedom. Memories of what life was like before the outbreak. Other days however felt like the course of an electric current, with glitches and shocks jumping from one event to another, one threat to another in the span of a few hours in a day. Attacks from raiders during ambushes in the early morning, a group of coordinated clickers just outside patrol borders when dusk set in.

Even just the day to day events in Jackson could make one feel that life seemed to pass by at a static, yet dynamic pace, regardless of what routine you had fallen into in the modest settlement.

Joel was still getting used to it. The staticity, as well as the dynamism. Life before Jackson was nomadic. Rootless. Constantly on the run.

Endure and survive. That’s all that really mattered at the end of the day. The words bore a penultimate weight akin to the wartime motivational phrase, ‘keep calm and carry on.’

Well, that’s all Joel knew how to do.

Carry on.

Not so much the keep calm part, but he was no stranger to putting his head down and pressing forward when things got tough. Carrying on also meant being strong for others. Something which Joel is constantly reminded that he need no longer do now that he and Ellie are in Jackson. Now that they are safe.

And there is no shortage of people who tell him the same, including Tommy and Maria, and even Ellie.

“You gotta find something to do, man,” Tommy sighed and crossed his arms, leaning into the doorframe of the kitchen. “Something to help you get into a routine y’know.”

Joel glared at his younger brother. “The hell d’you mean I gotta find something, Tommy? I already have a routine.” He scowled and shifted his jaw.

This is the 3rd or 4th time the subject has been brought up and Joel’s just about had it. He doesn’t get it. He does things. He does stuff around the commune. He goes on patrol shifts, helps with the woodworking and labour jobs. He goes to some of the community events, like game nights held at the dining hall or movie nights- even though it takes a good 30 minutes of Ellie’s begging for his resolve to crumble, and he grumbles throughout the entire movie.

As if Tommy can read his mind, he responds. “Going on patrol doesn’t count as routine, Joel.”

Puffing out his chest and mirroring Tommy’s body language, Joel glares at his younger brother.

“And here we go again,” Ellie quips from her seat at the kitchen table.

There’s a smirk plastered across her face despite her gaze, focused intently on the weathered pages of an old astronomy book.

“You stay outta this.”

Joel’s clipped tone brokers no room for negotiation, Ellie’s known him long enough to recognize that. But that doesn’t stop her from pushing him, just because she can.

“You stay outta this. Rah rah rah. I’m Joel and I hate everything.” She mocks his deep southern drawl with exaggeration, continuing to look down at her book.

“Tommy’s right, Joel. Say whatever you want but you can’t just fill your days with the odd jobs around here. And going on patrol. And hanging with me.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Joel exhales, his nostrils flaring. “Ellie-”

“Look, dude,” she cuts him off, “I love you, but it wouldn’t kill you to find something else to do with your time. It’s not the end of the world. I mean, it is but c’mon. It’s like you’d rather get killed by a fucking clicker than step outside your comfort zone.”

At that, Tommy snorts and shakes his head.

“It’d be a hell of a lot less painful than this conversation, that’s for fuckin’ sure.” Joel huffs and puts his hands on his hips.

“There’s lots of other jobs in the commune that you could help out with. Jobs that you don’t even need skilled labour experience for.”

“Like what, Tommy? Teachers at the school? Volunteers for movie night?” His scowl deepens, as does the crease between Joel’s brows.

“Like training newcomers on patrol shifts, working at the clothing shop, working with the livestock-”

“Livestock? What kinda livestock?” Perking up in her seat, Ellie pushes the book away and turns to face Tommy.

“Just for the horses, chicken, sheep and pigs. Well, it’s really for the sheep ‘cause we came into a decent sized herd in the last couple months, and they’re a bit tricky to look after.”

Tommy runs his hands through his raven curls and chuckles. “No one’s been able to quite figure them out yet, and they don’t trust Jake- the caretaker for the horses and pigs.”

“Sheep?” Ellie’s mouth gapes open, her bright mischievous eyes finding Joel’s.

“Joel. Sheep.”

Already knowing where the conversation was headed, Joel tips his head back and looks up at the ceiling. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”

__________________________________________________

And that is precisely how Joel finds himself knocked on his ass, after getting headbutted by one of the older lambs, in an attempt to get their halter on and bring them into the barn.

“You little shit, get back here!” he barks at the young sheep as it trots away from him towards the food trough.

Rubbing the right side of his jaw and grimacing, he sits back on his hands, looking at the rest of the herd a few feet away from him. “I’ve a right mind to tell them to serve lamb for the rest of the month at the dining hall. How’s that sound?”

A few sheep at the hay bale turn to look his way, chewing absentmindedly before ignoring him again. It had been about ten days since Tommy enlisted Joel as the sheep caretaker, or as Ellie had so lovingly called him, Jackson’s resident shepherd, and Joel had to admit, the job wasn’t half of what he expected.

It turns out sheep weren’t quiet, and they certainly didn’t do what they were told. Sheep were actually a pain in the ass to keep. A royal pain in the ass. Much different than cows and horses, despite being herd animals.

Not to mention that they were creative, escape artists, always jumping over the fence of the pen or squeezing in between the slats of the fence. It was a regular occurrence to hear the phrase ‘loose sheep’ or ‘the sheep are out again’ being hollered across the main street, as a handful of them skittered across the main road, Joel out of breath as he jogged after them, the stitch in his side burning through his abdomen, while he knees ached incessantly.

His first week was spent just getting close enough to them so that he could tag their ears for the breeding records. Not that he could manage to even get a hand on any, especially the young lambs. As soon as he got within 8 feet of the herd they would scurry away, kicking and bucking into the air, or run right past him, as he keeled over trying to catch them. Needless to say, Joel didn’t manage to avoid getting headbutted and kicked a handful of times during those days.

Cursing, he dusted off his pants and leaned against the fence of the pen.

“How’s it coming?” Tommy’s voice called out to him from the opposite end of the pen.

Narrowing his eyes in response, Joel hunched over to rest his hands on his knees.

“Easy my fuckin’ ass you liar. These little shits are demons.”

Stifling a chuckle, Tommy rests his arms over the fence and looks down. “Like I said, it takes some time to get to know ‘em.

It was wrong to laugh at his brother’s misfortunes but he couldn’t help it as he watched Joel’s hulking figure tentatively approach the herd again before pausing as they all scattered around him.

“S’that why you haven’t been able to recruit any other unfortunate souls for this torture?” Placing his hands on his hips, he shifts his weight from one leg, appraising the herd.

“No,” Tommy huffs out an exhale, “most folks don’t have the time to commit or they don’t have an affinity for animals.”

He looks out at the horizon, scanning the snow covered peaks of the mountain range bordering the settlement, before his gaze returns to Joel. He smirks as that familiar scowl settles onto Joel’s face.

“I do not have an affinity for animals.”

Snorting, Tommy looks down at his feet again, nudging the toe of his boot into the hardened ground. “Is that so? That why no one else has been able to ride Callus out on patrol?”

Joel grunts. “That’s different. I wasn’t taking care of him, I was only riding him cause everyone else had their designated mounts.”

Lying through his teeth was easier than admitting that Joel actually loved having a special bond with the chestnut gelding that seemed to hate everyone else.

It took time.

Lots of hushed murmurs and praise for the gelding to learn to trust again. Not to mention that Joel seemed to have endless patience for the imposing gelding, never getting frustrated with him or upset when their progress seemed to regress. Plus, he had that quiet commanding authority that seemed to ease Callus’ nerves whenever he became frantic and anxious.

Before he knew it, Callus was following him around the paddock, poking his head out of his stall and nickering whenever Joel stepped foot in the barn.

“Whatever you say, Joel. Whatever you say.” The younger Miller shook his head and stepped back from the fence. “I’ll let you get back to it, since you got your hands full,” Tommy squinted and peered around Joel’s figure, “or, rather, your pockets full, I should say.”

Before he can even glance behind him, Joel feels a harsh tug on his back pocket, stumbling backwards as one of the young lambs tears a shred of the bandana in his pocket.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Gimme that back you piece of-” he bellows as the lamb prances away with the scrap of faded red cloth in its mouth, echoes of Tommy’s laugh fading into the background as he walks away.

_____________________________________________

A couple months later …

It had been roughly over a month since Joel started taking care of the sheep. Their upkeep became somewhat easier as Joel figured out their quirks and tricks to working with them, but the real difference was that Joel did indeed fall into a routine with them.

Everyday he got up before Ellie had to be up for school, and headed over to the barn to give them their morning feed. Then, he’d come home, eat breakfast, and walk Ellie to school, shortly before returning to clean their pen and stack hay bales in the barn loft. Sometimes he would even shear some of them when their coats became too thick. At the end of the day, he’d pick Ellie up from school and they’d have dinner together in the evening, then he would pop out again to feed them dinner and do a final night check before lights out.

They were surprisingly curious creatures, and smart. While he would mill about his different chores, they would follow him as he walked around the outskirts of the pen. When he was cleaning up the pen, they would nudge the wheelbarrow, knocking it over in the process.

Eventually, they stopped running from him and would eagerly approach as he walked through the barn into the outside pen, carrying a heavy hay bale for their breakfast or dinner.

When he’d get lost in his aimless thoughts, or stuck on paralyzing flashbacks, a panic attack brewing under the surface, he’d feel a tug on his sleeve or the back of his jacket.

Pairs of deep brown eyes surrounded by a halo of soft cloud like wool would simply stare back at him. Calmly grounding him back to reality. Not that he encountered those very often. What was even more surprising to Joel was that he had panic attacks way less often these days, his brain seeming to allow him some rest and solace from its usual fight or flight status. Even Ellie and Tommy noticed too, with Ellie pointing out that he was ‘less of a grumpy motherfucker than usual.’

He never named them, though. He wouldn’t allow himself that liberty.

They were just animals. Creatures.

Creatures, who in the beginning were ‘little shits with crack for brains and body padding like the Michelin man,’ according to Joel. Soon, however, ‘little shits’ turned into ‘little devils,’ which eventually turned into ‘little buggers,’ with an affectionate lilt behind the nickname.

It was Thursday today and the vet was coming by to look after the horses and give them their seasonal shots, along with the sheep, too. With temperatures dropping, the animals had to be prepared for the harsh onslaught of cold weather that was native to Jackson winters. Although the commune was prosperous and there was no shortage of food and supply, or need to ration, the animals were always of high concern.

“How much are you feeding them nowadays?” Dr. Joyce, the local vet, asked as she placed her stethoscope to the belly of one of the mature ewe’s.

“‘Bout 25 pounds of hay a day, and 15-20 pounds of grain on top of that.”

She hummed contemplatively as she shifted the stethoscope knob throughout the mass of wool covering the sheeps’ belly. “That’s quite a bit considering the size of the herd you have here.”

She nods to the rest of the herd munching away at their breakfast in the pen.

Joel shrugs in response. “That’s what Jake was feeding them beforehand but he suggested I up it as we come into winter, to help ‘em keep weight on.”

“Well, he’s certainly not wrong.” She reaches into her kit to pull out a packaged syringe, ripping open the wrapping and flicking the end of the needle two times. Small droplets of liquid ricochet out as she pinches the skin of the ewe’s neck, not covered in wool, and gently inserts the syringe.

“Is there anything else I should be doing? Or anything else I could do to help them more when winter hits?”

While Joel would admit that he still really has no idea what he’s doing taking care of these animals, it doesn’t mean that he won’t give his all in providing care to them. He’s come to realize he actually likes learning about the sheep, aspects of their care, behaviour and physiology. It scratches parts of his brain that were only really activated when he was contracting, woodworking, or other technical jobs. And he doesn’t half ass jobs, no matter the nature of them.

Dr. Joyce swiftly removes the needle within seconds, and smiles warmly at him.

“Nothing in particular, Joel. You’ve done a great job taking care of these guys so far, I know they’re not easy to look after.”

At that he chuckles and shoves his hands in his pockets as he leans against the stall door. “You could say that. There’s been a deep learning curve with ‘em that’s for sure.”

She nods and opens the back stall door that leads out to the pen, the ewe trots out to return to the herd. “Well, like I said, you’ve done a good job so far. Aside from keeping up with shearing them, although you won’t have to worry about that too much come winter, they’re pretty low maintenance. Keep them on lots of hay throughout the winter, and give them more grain to supplement for the colder weather. And some of them may need more than others, especially the pregnant ones.”

He nods along, running through the mental checklist of things he’s already been doing to increase their food supply, when he looks up at the vet.

“Pregnant?” His brows furrow and he frowns.

“Oh boy. I guess Jake left that part out when you took over?” The vet chuckles again as she takes in the dazed look on his face and scans the herd briefly.

“You do have a couple pregnant ewe’s here, probably at least 3 or 4. But that one,” she points to a particularly large sheep under the shelter that’s lying down, unkempt wool and hay covering half her face. “That one, 1633, she’s the furthest along. Probably another week or two before she pops.”

“A week?” Joel repeats it, disbelief still laced in his tone. “Shit, I thought she was just really fat. And lazy.” He narrows his gaze at the ewe, tilting his head slightly as he takes in the obvious rising and falling of her midsection, her legs barely tucked underneath her.

“Don’t worry, Joel, I know easier said than done,” she reassures him after clocking the worry etched into his features. “But sheep births are often fairly quick and easy, not as intense as horse or cow births due to their smaller size. I’ll be on call over the next week in case anything happens but just put more bedding in the stall here during the evenings for her, and keep her feed the same. She will handle the rest.”

Inhaling sharply, Joel nods, processing it all. She tells him what signs to look out for that indicate early labour, and gives him a brief list of things he can do to prepare, as well as supplies that could be helpful during the birth and afterwards. At least the doc will be there to help out so that he’s not completely on his own, despite being very out of his league.

“Sounds good, doc, I’ll call ya if I notice any changes in her or when she does drop.”

“Please, do. And I’ll see if Jake can come in for an hour or two during your off hours in the event she does go into labour then.”

__________________________________________

Three days after Dr. Joyce’s visit, 1633 goes into labour. Nearly 10pm, just as the settlement tucks in for bed and night shift patrols begin. Dr. Joyce was busy with another animal emergency, of course. Just his luck.

So, he recruits the next best thing, and gently wakes Ellie up after rushing back to the house after a night check. He hands Ellie the list of supplies that Dr. Joyce gave him and she blitzes throughout the house, gathering the different things in a box.

Of course, the curiosity, fear and excitement over an animal being born was not lost on his teenage daughter. She fired off a barrage of endless questions as she was right on his heels, following him throughout the house.

“Has her water broken? Is she in pain? What direction is the baby gonna be facing when it comes out? Did you call Dr. Joyce?”

“You bleat more than the damn sheep these days, y’know that? C’mon just get that stuff together for me.”

Joel huffs as he grabs a bucket from under the kitchen sink, thinking of what else he could grab. It had to be the night when Tommy and Maria were both out on patrol as well, leaving just him and Ellie.

God help him.

When they returned to the barn, the ewe was in the stall, lying on her side, bleating out her obvious discomfort. He quickly takes his thick jacket off, hanging it on a nearby post before stepping into the stall.

“Alright, honey, alright, it’s okay.” The low murmurs of his voice only seem to agitate the ewe more, as she bleats repeatedly while he approaches and crouches down beside her. His eyes never leave the ewe’s body.

“Ellie, hand me a couple big towels.” She reaches into the box of supplies and hands him two fluffy towels, crouching down beside Joel slowly. The ewe continues to let out loud long bleating groans, huffing as her body starts preparing for labour and her water breaks with an audible slosh.

“Shit. Well, there goes her water.” He huffs, his mouth pressed into a straight line as he tries to peek and see any signs of a muzzle or cloven hooves coming out.

Gagging and turning away slightly, Ellie groans.

“Ugh, okay that’s fucking gross!”

He gives her a disapproving frown. “You’ve seen worse before, calm down.”

“A clicker brain and exploding guts is not nearly as gross as this. How are you not freaking out?

Suddenly, the ewe lets out a long bleating groan again and thrashes her hind legs, in an attempt to get up frantically.

“Shit. Whoa, whoa, whoa, mama. Easy there. Y’can’t get up just yet.” He hovers over the sheep and tries to coax her back on the ground.

“Ellie, come around here, help me keep her on her side.”

She shuffles around to Joel’s other side and buries her hand into the soft thick wool, gently pressing down. “Have you ever done this before?”

Joel grunts while he tries to contain its flailing legs, preventing the ewe from rolling over or getting up.

“Nope,” he strains. “I’ve seen one or two cow births, long time ago when I was growing up in Texas.”

“Shouldn’t be too different,” he says breathlessly, saying a silent prayer as he pulls the sheep away from kicking at the stone wall of the barn. “As long as she stays on the ground like this, she should be okay, she can’t get up or roll over though ‘cause it could hurt or suffocate the baby.”

“Okay, okay,” Ellie exhales shakily, wincing as the sheep bleats loudly.

“Hey,” he turns to gaze down at the teenager, his voice quiet but authoritative. “It’s gonna be okay, look at me.” Her dazed gaze snaps from the ewe up to meet Joel’s big brown eyes. Anxious. Focused. “It’s gonna be okay alright? She’s gonna be okay?”

Ellie nods her head, the hint of a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth as she looks down at the ewe again. “It’s okay, momma, you’re okay, just breathe.”

No later than 5 minutes after do a pair of hooves and a muzzle appear. Ten minutes of pushing after that, the tiny lamb is lying sprawled out on the ground, Joel rubbing the remnants of placenta off its body and face.

“Joel.”

It’s barely above a whisper as Ellie hovers over the baby, crouched on the balls of her toes.

“Joel. It’s - it’s not breathing.”

She inhales sharply and leans her head over the mouth, trying to feel or hear for a puff of air.

He’s silent for a moment, and leans back looking at the tiny body covered in bodily fluids, and realizes there’s no movement coming from the lifeless body. No rising of its stomach, and its eyes are barely opened.

All of a sudden the vastness of the chilly barn shrinks to the size of a shoebox. The air suffocating, as if all the oxygen was sucked out of it.

“Fuck. Fuck. Get me another towel.”

Rushing over to the box of supplies, Ellie hands him a smaller towel, as Joel leans down and wipes at the lamb's eyes, and around its nostrils. He tries to open its mouth to see if there’s any fluid trapped there but he can’t see.

“Get the baster. Hurry.” His clipped tone betrays his panic as Ellie places their turkey baster in his hand.

It’s a poor substitution for an actual proper bulb syringe that is used to remove mucus and fluid from newborns’ mouths. He opens the lamb's mouth and inserts the baster roughly, pressing down on the bulb, as murky liquid is drawn through the clear pipette. He squirts the remnants of the baster out onto the ground and reinserts it into the lambs mouth, drawing more mucus and crap out a few more times until it’s empty.

They both wait a beat, panting heavily to see any sign of life on the little sheep.

“She’s still not breathing. Fuck.” Ellie’s voice trembles. “She’s not breathing, Joel!”

“Okay, go into the feedroom and fill up the hot water bottle with warm water okay? Warm water, not hot, I’ll try to swaddle it in more towels, get some heat going.”

Immediately, she races to the feedroom with the rubber water bottle. As Joel hears the water running in the background, he wraps the lamb in two big towels. The ewe is now up and pacing frantically around Joel, sensing something is wrong.

“C’mon baby, c’mon,” he rubs the covered lamb firmly, pressing his palm down slightly against the ribs and chest of the baby and shaking slightly. Nothing though, no sounds, no movement.

The ewe is now crying and bleating repeatedly as she paces circles around Joel, wanting to get to her baby. “I know, momma, I know. I’m trying. Fucking hell.”

The edges of his restraint and control start to fray. His heart is racing, chest tightening under the crushing realization that the lamb is a stillborn. He cradles the lamb, swaddled in a mountain of towels now, squeezing his eyes shut and holding the tiny limp weight against his body.

Moments later Ellie reappears at his side, sinking to her knees with the water bottle in both hands, the sloshing sound of the water drowning out the ewe’s crying.

Joel opens the folds of towels up so that she can place the flimsy warm pouch over top of the lambs side. Wrapping it up like a burrito again, he holds it up against his chest as if he was holding a baby, firmly patting and rubbing the little lump in his arms. Ellie fruitlessly tries to calm down the mother ewe but it’s no use as she continues to trot circles around Joel, weaving back and forth and trying to nose the little lump in his arms.

He places the swaddled lamb on the ground, into the cushioned nest of shavings and straw bedding. Hovering over it on all fours, he places his palm over the swaddle again, applying pressure to the lambs back and rubbing circles, while opening its mouth with his other hand.

“C’mon, little one, c’mon. Gimme something, c’mon. Please.” Joel leans down, his lips pressing against the towel as he murmurs. The sound of his warm, deep voice breaking is barely muffled by the damp fabric as he squeezes his eyes shut. Another set of warm, small, clammy hands overlap his, as Ellie kneels beside him.

They huddle together over the lamb for another minute or two, the soft swishing of straw and shavings strewn about as the ewe continues pacing is the only audibly sound. Her cries for help softened to brief bleating.

Ellie intertwines her fingers with Joel, squeezing tight as she let’s out a quiet sniffle.

Then, a muffled sound. The smallest hiccup.

“Joel.” She whispers and squeezes his hand again.

“Joel, look.”

He raises his head slowly, holding his breath as he hears the small noise again, before he carefully unwraps the swaddled material. He cautiously rubs the lambs back again, as they watch as its bleary eyes blink open, slowly but surely. It raises its head ever so slightly, dazed, before letting out the smallest bleat.

Choking out the breath that he had been holding in, Joel rushes to wipe around the lamb’s eyes and mouth again. “There she is. Hey little one,” he coos at the small animal, afraid to speak above a hushed tone.

“Holy shit.” Ellie huffs in disbelief with tears in her eyes. “Dude, you fucking did it! Oh my god, look at her!”

She clutches the sleeve of Joel’s shirt, exhilarated and bouncing with adrenaline. “Do you think it’s a girl?”

Smiling to himself, he shakes his head, “not sure, but it doesn’t matter, s’long as it’s healthy. Right, little one?” He slowly strokes the lamb as it starts bleating with more fervor, when he feels a bigger muzzle shoving his hand out of the way .

“There ya go momma, there she is.”

He gets up, ignoring the groaning protest from his knees and steps back so that the ewe can see her baby, gesturing for Ellie to follow.

“Here, Let’s give ‘em some space to breathe. Go grab the space heater and we’ll get ‘em nice and warm.”

Shooting to her feet, she scurries back to the supply room to retrieve the heater. Joel sits back against one of the stall walls, his head tipping back till it hits the wooden slats with a dull thunk as he takes the deepest breath he’s taken all day. The adrenaline is still coursing through his veins but he feels fucking exhausted all the same. Defeated but elated, he watches the mom lick and nudge the little lamb, before a voice rings out from behind him.

“Well, well, well, looks like we got a full house in here tonight!”

Joel turns to see Dr. Joyce striding through the aisle, a bright twinkle in her eye as she stops in front of the large stall, already stretching a pair of latex gloves over her hands.

The corners of his mouth pull up into a small smile as he nods in her direction. “Hey doc, how’s it going?”

“I should be the one asking you that,” she chuckles with warmth, shimmying around the stall door slowly. “You’ve had quite the night from what I can tell. I saw the lights on at this hour and I could only assume it had finally happened.”

Snorting, he crosses his arms over his chest. “That’s one way of putting it.” He nods his chin as Ellie returns with the space heater in hand, “couldn’t have done it without this one’s help of course.”

Ellie grins and hands the space heater to Joel. “If I’m being honest, it was probably one of the coolest and scariest things I’ve ever seen in my life. Especially when she wasn’t breathing. But it was all Joel, really. He brought her back, I just tried not to get in his way.”

Rounding Joel’s other side, Dr. Joyce crosses the stall and crouches down and pulls out her stethoscope, winking at Ellie. “Is that so? Do I sense a future vet tech assistant that can help me with house calls?”

“Shit. Are you serious?” The teenager’s eyes nearly bug out of her head as a massive smile stretches across her face. “That would be fucking awesome!”

Joel doesn’t even have the energy to reprimand her for swearing, his mind and body drained as he snorts and shakes his head.

“Hey! Is there room for two more at this welcoming party?!” Another booming voice echoes throughout the large stone barn, similar in its Southern drawl to Joel’s but not as deep.

Tommy and Maria round the corner with huge smiles, still in their riding clothes, fresh off the night patrol.

“Just so long as y’all can keep quiet.” Joel grumbles, still sat leaning against the stall wall with his arms crossed, legs kicked out from underneath him. He looks over at the scene in front of him, warmth etched into his features as he watches Dr. Joyce check the lambs vitals while the ewe finally starts to munch on hay again.

“We couldn’t believe it, we had to come right away. Hell, I had half a mind to cut the patrol short when we found out.” Maria nods at Joel with a smirk. She glances over to the little sheep who has started to stand on all fours and nurse from its mom, wobbling on its nimble legs.

“What’s the verdict Dr. Joyce?” Tommy sidles over to Joel, crouching down beside him and grinning. “All working organs? All ten fingers and ten toes?”

Joel sighs gruffly. “They’re hooves, not toes, genius. Jeez, you sure you’re expecting soon?”

Maria only smirks in response as Tommy mumbles and shoves his older brother in response.

“Everything’s in order Joel, don’t worry.” Dr. Joyce smiles, taking one ear bud out of her ear as she continues to check the lambs pulse. “Her oxygen levels seem good, despite the rocky start and her lungs are clear of fluids, and she’s warm. You couldn’t have done a better job, really, you should be proud of yourself.”

He tries to hide his beaming smile he really does, but Joel grins. His bright eyes crinkle and his dimple pokes through his right cheek. “Thanks doc. I appreciate ya comin’ over here as soon as you could.”

“Her?” Ellie’s eyes widen as she clasps her hands together. “So it is a girl?!”

“Yup, definitely a girl.”

“Think she deserves a name, don’t you?” Tommy nudges Joel in the arm again.

Joel’s smile falters immediately. He shakes his head and looks down. “No. I don’t name ‘em, besides it’ll only be a couple of days before she’s gotta get tagged and registered in the breeding books too.”

“Oh come on Joel, please? She deserves one. After everything she’s been through…” Ellie’s voice trails off.

Everything they had been through. She doesn’t need to say it for him to know.

When she doesn’t keep going he looks up at her. Her eyes pleading, welling up with fragments of the pain and haunted memories that they endured over the last year.

He looks at Tommy and Maria, his eyes then falling on Dr. Joyce as she tends to the lamb.

“Ellie’s right Joel. I know y’all don’t normally give them names, especially the young ones, but given the circumstances, this little lady oughta have a name.” The vets eyes are soft as she gives Joel a sympathetic smile.

He’s silent for a moment, shifting his jaw. His gaze drops to the tiny lamb, white as snow, now that she’s been towel dried and cleaned, listening to her tiny bleats as she headbuts her mom for more milk. Instantly, his gaze softens, his big eyes rounding at the newborn.

New life.

A breath of fresh air into the looming hollowness of the barn. A pulse. An electric current, melding into a comfortable, viscous, energy as Jackson’s population, well four-legged population, increases for another day.

Sighing, he tilts his head in adoration. Filtering through the vestiges of his memory, he thinks back to the conversation that prompted this whole sheep herding fiasco. Him, Ellie, their tiny fire amongst the vast expanse of snow covered country, with nothing but the moon overhead. The comforting solace provided by its glowing illumination, letting them know they weren’t alone in their travels.

“Well, she is a bright light, figuratively and literally,” he peeks his head out of the stall to find the moon, beaming down on the tiny settlement, before glancing down at the lamb again.

“How does Luna sound?”

In that moment, the lamb trots over to Joel on its spindly legs, getting braver by the minutes after its birth. She bleats in his face loudly and headbutts his arm affectionately before circling back to her mom, stumbling over herself in the process.

“Well I’ll be damned, I think she likes it.” Tommy chuckles as Maria comes to stand beside him.

Ellie snuggles up to Joel, her eyes starting to close as the evening's events catch up to her. “It’s perfect,” she yawns and nuzzles into his broad shoulder, “our little Luna.”

Luna approaches Joel with more curiosity again, as he stretches his hand out towards her, letting her sniff and lick him.

Despite everything that happened, the chaos, the panic, and near crisis with his first lamb birth, for the first time in a while, Joel feels whole. Fulfilled. Right where he's supposed to be, in this new world, this new life.

Rooted.

A lopsided smile stretches across his face, as his dimple pokes through his cheek. “Yeah, I suppose it is. Our little light, Luna.”

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