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tiredmamaissy · 4 months

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Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Special Episode IV

Seed of Life

This is @zestys-stuff 's OC. All credits to this character goes to this beautiful, talented artist. Thank you again for allowing me to explore and create with him!

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, fluff, angst, early pregnancy smut (will be forewarned before it happens), daddy daughter drama, Ralak being little rough because reader won’t stop teasing him, Ralak literally has blue balls, ball play, blowjob, brief thigh fucking, likely incorrect na’vi, teacher/student dynamics/roleplay, p in v, quickie, squirting, masturbation, dirty talk, sexual tension, age gap

Disclaimer: This chapter entails pregnancy and sexual intimacy during early pregnancy. I include a warning directly before the smut happens in the case that you want to indulge in this chapter but aren’t necessarily up for the pregnancy smut.

Word Count: 10k sorry

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: thank you guys for always being so patient with me. i love yall too the moon and back <3 happy holidays and a happy new year! also, I’ve realised that I unintentionally decided that Kiri is not involved in this series (i dunno honestly, it’s just occuring to me that I’ve never really mentioned her before and it feels difficult to incorporate her at this point i suppose). It seems like we (reader) have taken her place in this au in regards to being jakes adopted ‘babygirl’ (nothing else though—no superpowers or anything loool).

Synopsis: After telling Ralak that he's going to be a father, the reality dawns on you that you need to break the news to your own father.

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This pregnancy shouldn’t be much of a surprise to you, honestly. How could you not be? After such a breeding it would be a miracle if you weren’t pregnant. Yet the news wasn’t quite sinking in, even when Tsireya looked at you with wide eyes and spelled it out for you. But now that you’re walking towards the tsahìk, you’re faced with reality and it begins to sink in as you count each step you take.

Forty-two…

The words that rolled off the tarsem’s tongue echo in your skull.

Forty-three…

Etching themselves into the bone, leaving you with no space to deny the truth.

Forty-four…

“You are with child.”

The ringing in your ears stops as your vision refocuses on the stone cold expression of the Tsahìk. Her voice is unfaltering and clear as it delivers the news to your ears a second time. Bowing to the taller woman, you sweep three fingers away from your forehead and turn your heel to walk away. But before you can take two steps she announces something that makes your ears stand tall.

“A boy.”

Her two harshly spoken words strike through your chest, a sinking feeling now brewing in the pit of your stomach. You stop dead in your tracks and lift your head that was once tilted down to your feet. Things become even more real, having you force down a wad of your spit to keep your vision from splitting again. You’re barely able to use your voice—your mouth partially open and your tongue rolling from the churn of your tummy.

“Thank you, Ronal.” You manage to squeak a decibel or two over a whisper, dropping your head again to lock your stare to your feet before fleeing the now-crowding scene. You overhear the people murmuring the news as you scurry away to your marui pod.

‘The forest girl expects the firstborn of the village’s best warrior’;

‘She won’t make it out alive!’;

‘Did you hear? She will birth the first of a new kind. A kind with demon blood’.

If your legs could go any quicker, they would.

A child grows in your womb now. A child for the man you love—Ralak. The man who deserves it most. You’re scared and excited all at once. Proud to bear a son for such a notable and fearsome man. But afraid of how your family will take to the news.

This was your first month of being a mated pair, and you’ve already succumbed to your most primordial instinct to mate. And with what everyone is already whispering, you’re scared of much more than that. Is what they say true? Is this a risky thing? Will he be teased for being different? Will he be rejected from the clan?

Does Ralak… even want this?

You both hadn’t even sat down and spoken about the possible consequences of such a cosmic event—your synced cycles. What if he hadn’t meant all the things he said? Or if he really just couldn’t prevent the things that he did during his rut? How would he react if that were the case?

Your mind is running at a hundred clicks an hour and your nerves are wringing your stomach that it takes the hot sand spilling through the cracks of your toes to make you realise that you’re already home.

And there he is, in all his glory.

Doing nothing other than sharpening his damn spear. Sitting on his knees, leaned back with his flexed abs and gathered brows, concentrating on his task—blissfully unaware of the gossip spreading throughout the clan. The sight brings serenity to the white noise in your head, leaving nothing but the crash of the waves and the splash of the ilus off in the distance. I

Ralak’s ears twitch as he senses your presence, but he remains focused on the stroke of his whetstone against the blade. He can feel your apprehension from where he sits, and he can already tell what you’re here for. Yet he chooses to keep his appearance no less than stoic, but not enough to be intimidating.

“Tanhì.” He hums low enough that you strain to hear him.

“I need to speak with you.” You utter, wetting your dry lips with a quick swipe of your tongue. You stand there fidgeting with your fingers as you await a reply from your husband. It’s almost mortifying how silent this man can actually be. You see the slight tilt of his head and his ear perk up to listen closely. Taking this as your cue to speak, you try to find the words to say.

How do I say this?

Ralak is a simple man, perhaps it’s better to give it to him straight. An easy, ‘I carry your unborn son’, would do, right? You begin to gnaw on the dry skin on your bottom lip as you think. But his silence is really getting to you today. How can he sit there so… unbothered? Not even a glance thrown your way or an eyelash batted. Maybe you should just spit it out — ‘you got me pregnant’.

“Hm?” He lets out a muffled grunt, swiping the whetstone against the spearhead. It sounds innocent. Like he’s just immersed in a task and couldn’t quite bring himself to completely stop.

“We no longer need to prepare for my heat.” You blurt out, not even knowing where the words came from. You witness his spine straighten and him quickly stilling his movements.

Little did you know his heart gallops at the speed of a direhorse, thumping wildly between his ribs as he prepares himself to finally hear you utter the words. Oh, how he had been waiting for your sweet voice to sing the news. But he realises that you seem to need an extra push to say them.

“And why is that?” Ralak husks, still unmoving.

You wait for him to turn around. To look your way. Something.

But… nothing.

“I’m pregnant.”

Ralaks heart skips a beat and his breath catches in his throat. A grin spreads from ear to ear, so strong and wide that if you were really paying attention you would have caught the way his ears stand at full height.

But you were too busy fighting the bubble of the blood in your thumping heart, trying to keep your frustration to a minimum. You had expected more. For him to turn around, at the very least. All you could hear was the da-dump and the silence between you two. Until you couldn’t take it anymore.

Perhaps it’s all the hushed chatter from earlier or maybe it’s just the new surge of hormones and out-of-whack pheromones but you can’t help the burn of your eyes as they fill with tears.

“So w-what? Not even a glance my way? You knock me up and have nothing to s-say for it?” You choke back your heated tears of frustration, Ralak now huffing a vehement sigh. “You’re not even surprised, or—” Your blubbering is cut short by your husband's quick movement.

Ralak instantaneously brings himself to his feet and storms over to you, towering over your petite frame. Now he’s peering down at you, dark, smouldering eyes holding the most intimidating gaze with you as he closes the distance between your bodies. He’s still damp from seeing to the ilus this morning that when your chest touches his cold, bare stomach, it hardens your nipples into stiff peaks.

“Surprised?” He rasps, his large hand flying to your lower stomach, gently pressing into it. Heaving shoulders slowing as he steadies his breathing, Ralak lowers his head to brush his lips against the shell of your ear—

“Do you not think I had every intention of putting this baby inside of you?”

Hearing this spoken in such an assertive tone sends shivers up your spine—Ralak knows exactly how to handle you and your… sensitivity. He always has. Your tail sways uncontrollably behind you, earning a well concealed smirk from the giant before you. It’s always been one of his favourite parts of you, but now—oh, now he has a new favourite part of you.

Your soon-to-be swelling belly.

“I have known.” He admits through a whisper, smoothing his entire palm over your budding womb, planting a quick kiss on your temple. “Your scent… it has changed, tanhì.”

“What?” You whisper, almost pulling away from his tender touches to look at him. “And you didn’t say anything?”

“I wanted to hear you say it. I have been waiting… to hear you say it.” He’s the one to pull away this time, looking you deeply in the eyes. His free hand raises, using his thumb to wipe away a tear seeping from the corner of your eye. “Please. Do not cry.”

You don’t even know what to say. Yet again, Ralak leaves you speechless—with trembling lips and a swelling throat.

“And you are actually eating the payoang niktsyey [fish wraps] I cook.”

“What?” You snort, letting loose a sudden, nasally giggle. You drop your smile and try to fix a serious expression on your face. “What do you mean? I always eat your payoang niktsyey [fish wraps]”

Ralak laughs, his three fingers tucking hair behind your ear, “I see you throw them to the ilus, tanhì. I am no fool.”

You laugh again, snotty-nosed and teary-eyed, sniffling when the uncontrollable giggling fit ends. “It seems that our son enjoys your cooking, ‘lak.” You bubbler with a wobbly smile, blinking harshly to clear your vision.

Ralaks eyes bulge as they frantically search yours—a beaming smile spreading across his lips, his pointed teeth on full display. “Son?” He exhales softly, his left brow bone jumping ever so slightly.

All you can do is nod, letting your wobbly smile morph into a grin. The tears come back like they never left, twice as much and even hotter than before. You swear you see Ralaks eyes gloss over too, glistering in the sunlight.

Ralak sinks to his knees, coming face to face with your soft tummy.

“My prrnen [baby]. My ‘evengan [son; boy child]. It is your sempu [daddy].” He whispers, heated lips slightly pressed against your silken skin. Chin tucked to your chest, you watch in awe, straining to listen to his hushed whispers. “I have wanted you for so long.”

Hearing that—oh, how hearing that makes you feel. You feel warm inside, your heart so full all your earlier fears melt away. Ralak looks up at you, azure blue eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration—gratitude and admiration.

“My sweet tanhì. You have made me the man I have always wanted to be.” He croons at you, planting a long, soft kiss on your stomach—eyes still locked with yours. “And I thank you for that. Nìt’iluke [forever; never-endingly]”

And just like that, the butterflies you felt when you first laid eyes on this man come rushing in, flapping their wings at full force.

“I am your mate.” You sputter out a little, tiny sob. “It’s what I-I am supposed to do.”

Ralak stands up, holding eye contact with you the entire way.

“You owe me nothing. It is an honour that you carry my unborn, y/n.” His hand leaves your stomach to grasp your hand, intertwining his thickset fingers with yours. “You will be a nawm [great] mother.”

“And you will be the best father.” You choke back your sobs, struggling to get your words out. A comfortable silence passes, where you both immerse yourselves into one another’s touch. Until Ralak witnesses your expression morph into something of worry.

“What is it?” He asks in a hushed voice, keeping his tone calm and cool.

“Speaking of… fathers.” The column of your throat undulates when you gulp hard, “How will I tell mine?”

Ralak swallows, too. The thought had crossed his mind a few times over the past week. He saw the answer as simple – tell him. Ralak holds a lot of respect for your father, looking up at him as a superior given his status and skill as a warrior. And although he’s slightly intimidated by your father, Ralak sees this respect as mutual—therefore, it should be returned. Surely, this will go smoothly if you both remain polite.

Right?

“We tell him. Together.” Ralak grasps your hand once more, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze, his heavy accent shining through now that he’s high on emotions, “I keep you safe. Both of you.”

——

Both you and Ralak make your way down the shore towards the webbing of overlapping mangrove roots. Though you insisted on breaking the news to your family by yourself, he was adamant that he accompanies you. You couldn’t bear the thought of your father lashing out on Ralak, especially in front of the others. You tried to explain that to him, but he simply shook his head and tightened the clasp of his saya (knife sheath) on his hip.

You make the trek by foot, wanting a little more time to think about what you were going to say, and he ensured to stay right behind you. Quite literally—looming behind you like some sort of bodyguard. Every na’vi you pass are quick to avert their gaze elsewhere when they see the giant you have as a shadow. They tried not to look to begin with, but it was a rare sight to see you two so close together among the clan.

Their hushed whispers are kept to an absolute minimum but Ralak hears them nonetheless. It doesn’t bother him. Not anymore, at least. It used to bother him before he had met you—hearing the chatter of the gossip about his voluntary six year celibacy despite being the chief’s right hand man. And now that the murmurs entail nothing but his relationship with you, he could care less.

But then he hears the indistinct mumble about the babe budding in your womb. It’s something along the lines of ‘it being some demon hybrid’. The comment alone has Ralak screeching to a halt, his head snapping in the direction of a stocky, young warrior in training. One that Tonowari had relentlessly urged Ralak to teach until he begrudgingly gave him a couple combat lessons.

Ralak’s eyes narrow and sharpen, snapping down to shoot a threatening leer down at him. That's all it took for the stumpy na’vi to drop his head in shame and scurry away with his younger companions.

Sensing that Ralak is no longer on your tail, you turn around, half-expecting him to be five steps behind. Instead, he’s right where you left him, with a reassuring smile and an extended hand gesturing you to ‘continue’. You return a light hearted smile and spin around, taking another step towards your family marui.

——

“To what do we owe the visit?” Neteyam smiles as he greets you at the marui door, arms splayed out for a hug. You smile and slump into your brother, allowing him to envelope you in a warm embrace. “We haven’t seen you in what feels like weeks, sis.”

“Because we haven’t.” Lo’ak adds, lurking behind his bigger brother, arms crossed over his chest with a grin on his face.

“Hey Lo’.” You say in a low voice, smiling at him as you let go of your big brother. Ralak silently stands at the marui door, head awkwardly tilted in an attempt to fit himself in such a tight space.

“Hey, sissy.” Lo’ak throws an arm around your neck, patting your shoulder a few times as he walks you further inside and away from Ralak. “What’s up with the shadow?” He doesn’t even try to quieten his voice as he nudges his chin in your husband's direction.

You force a little laugh, unwrapping his arm from around your neck so you can inch away back to your ‘shadow’. You back up until you bump into his solid build, making a muffled thump when you collide. He steadies you by the shoulders, lidded eyes flicking down to check that you’re okay. He can sense your nervousness.

“I–we… have something to tell you guys.” You begin, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Where’s everyone else?”

Lo’ak’s eyes squint, brows furrowing as the gears in his brain grind twice as fast to figure out what you could possibly be calling a family meeting for. “No fucking way. Already?” He blurts out when he finally puts two and two together. Your eyes widen when they dart over to him, catching sight of the shit eating grin plastered to his face.

Fuck, is this skxawng going to spoil it for me? You think to yourself, apparently loud enough for Ralak to hear. He squeezes your shoulders before sliding his hands down the full length of your arms and letting go. “Mawey [calm].” He breathes, his head still hanging low. You look behind you, tilting your head up to meet his comforting gaze.

“Hey, babygirl.” Jake’s voice snaps your attention back down, having you look your father in the eye. His smile is as wide as his arms as he approaches you for a hug.

“Dad. Hey.” You whisper, returning the hug and snuggling into his chest. You bask in the moment, lingering onto how things are now—before you drop the bomb on him.

“I missed ya.” Jake chuckles, rubbing your back. He finally lifts his head and sees your ‘shadow’ hovering a little closer than needed. “Jeez, let her breathe, boy. She’s just huggin’ her old man.” Ralak keeps his head hung and takes a small but noticeable step back. Jake gives you a quick peck on the head as he begins to pull away. “What have ya’ been up—”

Jake cuts himself short, leaning back in to smell your hair. His eyebrows gather when he recognizes the familiar scent. Neytiri has smelled similarly a few times before. Jake grinds his teeth, scrunched brows and narrow eyes giving away his current state of mind. His hands slide down your arms, gripping then as he looks you dead in the eye. “Y/n. You got somethin’ to tell me?”

“Dad–” You swallow down the knot in your throat, already getting choked up.

Jake's lips purse into a thin line as his death-stare immediately averts to Ralak. And for what feels like an eternity, nothing but silence fills the room. The tension in the air is almost suffocating. Jakes eyeing Ralak down whilst Ralaks stare is locked on the way he’s holding you.

You glance over at your brothers. One’s obviously got it figured out, arms crossed, shaking his head with a smug look on his face. And one is completely clueless—poor thing. You look back at your father who is now seething, leer averted back to you as he exerts all his energy into being patient.

“What’s going on? Guys?” Neteyam breaks the silence with a worried tone to his voice. His eyes bounce from person to person, until they land on his brother.

“He knocked her up.” Lo’aks whispers harshly, not even trying to be discreet. Neteyams brows raise and now he is, too, staring at you. You feel all the blood drain from your face and suddenly you’re extremely light in the head.

Mortified is an understatement.

Everyone is clearly waiting for you to confirm it. But you’re having such a difficult time saying the two silly little words. The pressure is on now, you could even see Ralak straining to hold his tongue. You finally muster up a cowardly nod, and immediately your fathers grip intensifies, squeezing your arms firm and tight. He’s looking down at you with eyes of disbelief and somewhat disappointment, frantically searching yours to see if this is really the truth. You let loose a low hiss, wincing when you feel the pinch of his grip.

Not even another second passes when you hear the slap of your husband’s large hands grabbing ahold of your father’s wrists.

“She is pregnant.”

A deep, but low growl rips from Ralaks chest. In other words, ‘never lay your hands on a pregnant woman’. Ralak dwarfs Jake as he inches in a little closer, grasping his wrists just firm enough to send this message.

“Yeah. Got it, bud.” Jake returns a growl through his teeth and tightened lips. He shifts his position slightly, eyes flicking down to acknowledge what his son in law is trying to get across. Nonetheless, Jake stands his ground. “Get your hands off me.”

Ralak tries to regain his composure, but his protective instincts have just about gone haywire. The urge to protect has never been so intense before. It’s like his soul knows that there’s just more to protect.

More at stake.

Ralak looks down at your fathers hands once more, silently making his point clear. He holds eye contact with Toruk makto whilst he remains unmoving.

“Lak…” You squeak a warning to your husband, who only flutters his jaw as a response. Lo’ak and Neteyam are on edge, both concerned that their father has a grip on you, but even more so that Ralak has a grip on their father. They watch intently, trying to decipher if and when they need to intervene.

To everyone’s surprise, Jake exhales harshly through his nose and gently pulls away from you, but wrenches his wrists away from Ralak’s grasp. “Sorry, kid.” Jake spits an apology, readjusting his position to be directly in front of Ralak. “Care to explain how this happened so damn quick?”

“Dad!” You shout in disbelief, wedging yourself back in between the two.

“You know what? Don’t even answer that.” Jake snaps.

“You know you are really no one to talk! Where’s mom? Mom!” You go on the tips of your toes, leaning from side to side to look for her behind both the two male na’vi.

“‘xcuse me?” Jake purposely blocks your view by bobbing his head wherever yours goes. “I am still your father and you will not speak to me that—” Jake steps to the left to avoid Ralak and walk towards you. Ralak quickly adjusts himself to be the wall between you and your father, not allowing Jake the chance to even finish his sentence. Ralak is now looking down at Jake with a stoic expression, trying his best not to come off intimidating or challenging in any way.

All to no avail.

“You got a problem with me, boy?” Jake grumbles through his clenched jaw, getting in Ralaks face now.

“No. Only keeping my word, sir.” Ralak simply responds.

Jakes brought back to the very moment he made Ralak give him his word. His word that he’d never let a thing happen to his baby girl. The night you completed your iknimaya. The night he granted Ralak the permission to mate with you.

The night Ralak took your virginity.

Jake stalls for a few seconds, taken aback by Ralaks behaviour but a little impressed at the same time. Jake's expression softens upon realizing that Ralak is just protecting his mate—just as he does Neytiri, especially during her pregnancies.

But there’s no way in hell that Jake will be the first one to back down here.

“Mom!” You call for her once more, hoping that she’ll swoop in and save the day.

Neytiri rushes in, hand on her hip where she keeps her dagger sheathed—worry and concern etched into her features. She analyses the situation, taking in the scene of her own mate standing face to face with yours. She glances over at you, seeing the panic in your eyes and the hand on your stomach that you didn’t even know you had placed there. Slowly walking up to the two male na’vi, she places a firm hand on her mates chest, pushing him away from Ralak. “Ma’ Jake. What is happening here?”

Jake’s pressing his lips firmly together, not wanting to say the words. He shakes his head a little, huffing through his nostrils before placing a hand on his hip. His other hand extends in your direction, as if he were pointing out the obvious. Yet he remains choked up and speechless, his hand falling to his thigh as he gives up.

Finally, he mumbles, “Go on. Tell her.”

Neytiri looks back at you, eyes trailing back down to your hand that’s mindlessly resting on your stomach as she awaits for your answer. You feel the burn of her eyes, yanking away your hand when it becomes too much. Being the daughter of Mo’at, a tsahik, Neytiri needed nothing more than a quick glance and sniff to know what’s going on. “Is this true?”

“Yes, mom. It is true. I am.” You say in a defeated tone of voice. Ralak shifts himself, settling close beside you now rather than in front of you. He always had an even greater respect for your mother.

Neytiri’s expression only grows softer, until there's no trace of concern left in her face. Her smile is downturned but her eyes are bright, glistening with joy as she pulls you in for a warm embrace.

“It is a blessing from Eywa, my child.”

She pulls away from you, now looking over to Ralak. Neytiri lays a gentle hand on Ralaks upper bicep, “Seykxel sì nitram [congratulations] .” Ralak signs ‘I see you’ to his mother in law, exchanging a light hearted smile with her.

It was no secret that Neytiri longed to be a grandmother. Her days of children are over now, although she was expecting her eldest, Neteyam, to give her a grandchild first. But Ralak — Ralak is a remarkable, mighty warrior and hunter. The olo’eyktans right hand man, and undoubtedly the best fisherman in the village.

In fact, Ralak was one of the first people Neytiri took a liking to after she adjusted to the way of water. She always felt that he was a good suitor for her daughter.

“Are you kiddin’ me? It’s barely been two months!” Jake scoffs, shaking his head.

“And a day for us, Jake.” Neytiri tries her best to keep a calm, but firm voice. “They are a mated pair, they are having a family now. It is Eywa’s will.”

Jake quiets himself, reflecting on his harsh ways. He sighs, loudly. His eyes finally glance down to what everyone in the room has been looking at, now staring at your protective hand that mindlessly lay over your womb once again. He grits his teeth, averting his stare to the ground, eyeing the charred wood of the fire pit. His tongue clicks as he parts his lips, muttering—

“I know… I know, alright? She’s just—” He looks up at Neytiri, then Ralak, and then you. “She’s my babygirl.”

It’s his way of saying, ‘I just want to protect my family.’

“Dad. I am but—but I’m not your baby anymore. I’m not a kid.” You croak, finding it hard to hold eye contact with him. “Your grandson is the new baby of this family.”

Jake tries to fight the way his eyebrows scrunch together, it was like hearing about the news of his firstborn son all over again. He exhales slowly, nodding his head and extending his arms to hold you. His warmth envelopes you completely, leaving no room for any cold or harsh thoughts and feelings to linger.

“You keep ‘em safe.” Jake's chin presses into the crown of your head as he mutters the words to Ralak. Ralak had always had a hard time understanding Jake's native slang, but this he understood— loud and clear.

“Always.” Ralak answers firmly.

Your safety has been, is and will always be his number one priority.

Jake nods once, squeezing you a little tighter before letting go fully. “Seykxel sì nitram [congratulations], you two.”

“Thank you, dad.” You smile whilst Ralak bows his head. Neteyam and Lo’ak finally come over for their hugs, making a comment of their own as they release you from their grasps.

“I’m gonna teach him everything I know.” Lo’aks grin is unnerving and a little sinister, giving away the trouble that he’s already trying to get your son into.

“Please don’t.” You joke back with your brother, even though you’re being dead serious.

Neteyam jabs an elbow into his brother's rib cage, disciplining him for his mischief. “Agh — do not worry, Uncle TeTe will keep him in check.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” You say softly with a smile on your face, “‘Uncle TeTe’. I like that.”

“Hey, don’t forget about ‘Uncle Lo’Lo’.” Lo’ak chimes in.

“Eh. Doesn’t have the same ring to it, you know? What do you think, lak?” You jester, looking up at him to be met with a slight smirk.

“Very… hiyìk [strange; funny].” Ralaks smirk pulls at his lips a little more. “But, at least it is not ‘ak’-ak’.”

You swear you hear a little chuckle from everyone in the room. All except Lo’ak, who is staring at Ralak with a deadpan expression, arms crossed defensively over his chest. It feels like an eternity passes until Lo’ak finally booms with laughter, extending his arm out to Ralak, who gaily reciprocates and meets Lo’aks’ with a smack.

“I like this bodyguard of yours, y/n. He actually has a sense of humour.”

You let loose a scoff and roll your eyes, about ready to wrap this whole thing up and lie down in bed. It’s seemingly obvious, seeing that everyone is giving you space as they take note of your restless body language and bowed shoulders.

“If you are tired, you should rest.” Neytiri advises, just as you feel Ralaks hand tuck under your arm to support your weight. “Your body is working hard right now.”

“Yeah, mom. I think I need to lie down for a little.” You mumble, leaning into your mate a little more.

Your family practically ushers you out, encouraging you to get some rest and to get off your feet. Ralak walks close to you on the way home, keeping with the pace you set to the tee — only intervening with a hand to your hip when necessary.

And when you finally slump into bed, your eyelids flutter shut before Ralak can settle himself beside you.

——smut warning——

You rouse to Ralak drawing the curtain of your marui, blocking out the orange hue of the last eclipse. It dawns on you that you’ve slept out most of the day. You didn’t even realise you were so tired to begin with.

“You should have woken me earlier. I slept out the day.” You mumble, sitting up in bed and lightly kicking off the sheets.

Ralak turns around, surprised that you’re awake. He curses himself under his breath; he was hoping to keep you sleeping by drawing the curtains but instead he did the opposite.

“You needed to rest.” He says, making his way over to sit on the edge of the bed. “You have been more tired recently.”

“Yeah?” You snort, “…and what else have I been, sir know-it-all?”

Ralak chuckles, his eyes falling to your stomach. “…a little more hungry.”

You smile a little, remembering his fish wrap comment from earlier.

But then you witness his half-lidded eyes glaze over with something of… wanton. It takes a second to realise that they’re no longer staring at your belly. They’re staring at your tewng [loincloth]. More specifically, the mound imprinting it.

It’s the way your pussy is being so tightly squeezed by the thin cloth covering it. It’s the one thing that Ralak can’t help himself from indulging in admiring. Then his eyes snap away, unexpectedly meeting yours. The stare he’s giving you has your thighs rubbing together and your lower tummy tingling.

“…a little more tempting.” His voice is thick like honey, laced with lust and arousal.

In every way. From the way you fill out your top more, to your scent—you’re becoming more

irresistible the farther along you progress. Your heart beats a little harder between your ribs as you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. His lecherous gaze is fixed, blue eyes piercing into yours. It’s been too long since he’s been inside you that it aches.

But he’s been patient.

Especially since the day he figured out you were pregnant. With the way you smelt he found it hard to keep his distance at times but nonetheless, he did it. But the truth is that you haven’t had penetrative sex since your cycles synced.

To be clear, he took care of you just fine.

Tending to your needs whenever you initiated intimacy with him but he never took it further than his fingers and mouth. After seeing you so battered by his own hands he found it hard to put you in a position that could garner a similar result again.

For a while, he lost trust within himself.

That he no longer had the capacity for self control. Not only did he feel like he didn’t deserve it, but he never expected you to return the pleasure either. He had already taken you on his own terms. Repeatedly.

Ruthlessly.

So when you ate one to many of his payoang niktsyey [fish wraps] — when the new earthiness of your scent wafted past his nose — he knew. He knew it stuck. He knew your womb swelled with his child as each day passed. And the urge to protect only swelled with it.

He became even more gentle with you. Handling you with care when your skin softened and your hips became a little fuller. Ensuring he had excess when he cooked. Weaving an extra thick blanket for you to sleep with when he was off on duty with Tonowari.

It ached most when he’d come home just to see it kicked off onto the floor, with you on your stomach and your leg propped up just right. Your loincloth would always shift to the side, just enough to expose plump folds that innocently peek through the seam of the thin fabric. Fuck, it more than ached. It made him tender. Throbbing in his own tewng.

Just like now.

He dares not to break the steady, intent stare. Or else he may steal another glance at the softness between your thighs. But he can see in your eyes that you feel similarly. You always give him that look before doing something ‘troublesome’. You break eye contact first, your eyes now landing on his tewng.

Fuck.

Your eyes widen a little when you catch sight of the growing, thick bulge in his loincloth. Your gaze locks onto it, taking in every detail. From the thick stripes on his thighs to the way the twine of his loincloth is cutting into his v-lines. You can even see the outline of the crown of his cock.

His stomach rises and falls from his uneven breathing, and his abs pop out one by one as he leans further back—supporting his torso with his arms behind his back. He was never shy about his body, and he certainly isn’t now.

“Then, why do you resist me?” Though it's a question, it doesn’t sound like one when the words drip off your lips. Your voice is soft and feigned with innocence, yet you're shuffling to get on all fours to crawl over to him. You truthfully don’t care for the answer, you knew that it would be the same old song—‘he doesn’t want to hurt you’.

“I hurt you.” He says coldly—simply, glancing at the fading scar on your shoulder as you settle yourself on your knees beside him. He watches as your hand finds purchase on his knee, and slides up his thigh. “And now that you are with child… I—haah”. He’s cut short with a shaky breath and slight jolt when you cup his bulge with a bit of force. He looks down at your hand, dainty and slender, barely grasping half of what’s under his tewng.

“You worry about me too much.” You mumble, more focused on the speed at which his cock pulses at. “Yet still, never yourself.” You feel around, sliding your palm up and down its length, earning a rough exhale from Ralak in return. His lidded eyes dart back over to you, taking in the sight of you almost bent over his lap.

“That so?” His voice is thick and gruff.

“Mhm. ‘m always telling you that, aren’t I?” You hum softly, slowly moving your hand further down between his legs, firmly cupping his balls. They’re heavy in your hand, hot to the touch and—

Eywa.

“They’re swollen.” You whisper breathlessly, your glossy eyes meeting him with concern. They dart back to his crotch, your hand now fumbling with the twine of his tewng, hurriedly trying to unravel the knot to get the suffocating fabric off him.

“‘tis fine.” He winces as he spits out the words, watching you pinch him a little while struggling with the taut material.

Ignoring his words, you continue with your task, a bit more gently now. And when the knot comes undone, the twine falls off his hips and the tewng loosens with it. You tug it off him and see that they’re not only puffed up but also darker in colour. They’re firm and pulled close to his body, perfectly round and stripes well-defined.

Shamefully, it turns you on to see his balls so full.

Just the thought of them being so swollen with his seed that they’re aching and throbbing to empty themselves inside you—fuck, it’s making your teeth grit. You sit back into the dip of your feet and stare as your breathing becomes heavier. The more you look the more you realize that they’re pulling tighter and tighter towards his core. You look up at him, a little surprised. Your arousal is etched into your features and it’s more than obvious in your body language. You want to know how they’d feel in your mouth. How they’d taste.

If they’d even fit.

Without another passing second you bend over his lap, tail high in the air and legs spread—the overpowering scent of your arousal filling the air. You shove your face between his thighs, inhaling deeply his musky scent. You let out a breath of desire, one that sounds nothing short of pleasure and satisfaction. He smells too good. You can’t help yourself but give his firm balls a quick, kitten lick. The giant above you holds back his chuckle, finding your behaviour cute and honestly a little amusing. Feeling like the butt of a joke, you firmly grasp his length and tug it upwards, causing his balls to pull even tighter.

“Y/n.” He hisses your name, adjusting his legs to rid himself of the strained feeling. You wet your lips with a quick swipe of your tongue, and press your cheek against them. They’re hot—heating up a degree higher the more you tease him. Just as you pull your cheek away and manage to fit one of them into your mouth, his hand flies to the back of your head, balling your hair into his fist.

“You need not to—” your tail curls and the tip of it tickles against his chest, “—haah…do this.” Ralak huffs out a sigh of frustration it seems, looking down at you with somewhat of a predatory leer. You pop off with a pwah, catching your breath and turning your head.

You both share an intent stare with one another, one that feels more challenging than anything. He’s insistent that he’s undeserving of this, and you’re insistent that he must be taken care of. His grip loosens on your hair, until he lets you go completely.

“Shh…shh.” You shush him, eyes narrowing as they remain locked onto him. You slowly slide off the bed one leg at a time, sinking to your knees and settling yourself between his legs—now looking up at him with doe-eyes. The sight before you has your heart palpitating, just like the sight of your face so close to his cock has his jaw clenching.

Ralak quiets himself by locking his jaw, waiting patiently to see how this unfolds. It’s the first he’s seen you in this position, on your knees, between his. His cock twitches in excitement as clear, thick beads of precum begin to roll down its length. You swallow thickly at the sight, wrapping your dainty fingers around its girth to pull it close to your flushed lips.

Ralaks ears flutter and his eyelids grow heavy, his chest heaving as he shifts his weight to the palms of his hands—sitting up.

You open your mouth, strings of your saliva connecting your lips together. They break when you lower your head, taking the mushroomy, glistening head of his cock into your mouth. It’s mostly sweet, and a little salty too. The corners of your mouth sting as you accommodate his thickness, and you struggle to open your jaw wide enough to take him further into your mouth.

His head dips forward, eyes slamming shut when he feels your wet, warm tongue press against the underside of his cockhead. His hand flies to your head again, gently cupping the back of your skull as he lets out a strained breath.

Muffled noises vibrate through your nose as you swipe your tongue side to side against his head. It throbs against your tongue each time it hits that sensitive spot right down the middle. You suckle and swipe at the same time, using your hands to pump the rest of his length until you're grunting and snorting for air. You come up, gasping to fill your lungs.

His hand quickly slides from the back of your head to cup the swell of your cheek. His calloused thumb swipes at a bead of saliva rolling down your chin and pops it back into your mouth. “What are you doing, my tanhì?” He whispers the rhetorical question, ensuring his voice is calm and gentle. It sounds as if he’s given up—given in.

Without answering, you take him back into your mouth, locking your jaw once you open it as wide as you possibly can. You stick your tongue out as far as it’ll go and look up at him with eyes that begin to water. He looks down at you with a concerned expression, which morphs into one of astonishment. Your head goes lower and lower, taking inch after inch of his cock down your throat.

The tears in your eyes finally spill over, and your nose begins to burn. Half of his length is down your throat and you can barely breathe, but the more his face grimaces from how good you feel around him, the more of him you urge yourself to take. You hold onto his hips, using them as leverage to shove more of him down your throat.

“Hnng. Easy.” He groans roughly, pushing back against your shoves. “You are pregnaaah—mmn, you will make yourself sick, tanhì.”

Lifting your hand from his hip, you smack away his hand and take him full hilt, his cock hitting the back of your throat, making it bulge. You stop for a second, slowly inhaling through your nose to focus on not gagging. You try moving the back of your tongue, slowly stroking the rest of his length with your hand.

“Ah, shit.” He exhales shakily, his eyes rolling back before squeezing shut. He looks focused, like he’s concentrating on not cumming down your throat right then and there. Lips parted slightly, each breath he takes becomes louder and more raggedy. His thigh muscles tense up and his legs spread a little more, his hand finding its own way to the base of your kuru.

Chest swelling with pride, you begin to bob your head and coat his cock with your sticky spit. The more slippery it gets the harder he has to fight back his choked grunts. The grip he has on your kuru is tightening, as if he were preparing himself to pry you off his cock before he fills your throat.

Suddenly, his head sinks back and his jaw clenches—hard. You could feel it. The way his cock twitches. The way it’s heating up. The way it’s swelling in your mouth. Gurgled noises are escaping past his lips, and he purses them tightly together in attempts to keep himself quiet. His core flexes, and his hips start to stutter. His whole body jolts from how sensitive he’s getting, and finally he thrusts into your mouth, the pointed tip of his cock slamming into the back of your throat.

You silently gag as his hips stammer into you and he’s fucking your throat in frenzied little movements. He’s trying his hardest to be as gentle as he possibly can.m, but your throat is so soft and tight around him. You swallow around his cock as you try to take a breath and suddenly his erratic movements still.

“Y/n.” He lets loose a dying groan as his head slumps forward and his inebriated eyes struggle to open.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

His voice is gravelly and thick with restraint. You love to see him like this—hear him like this. You can’t help the wandering hand that’s making its way down to your soaked tewng. You try to touch yourself through the fabric, but have a hard time finding your clit with it covered like this. Exasperated, you shove your hand under the band of your loincloth and use all four fingers to rub sloppy circles into your puffy clit.

Ralak is too immersed into this to even take note of your desperation. He’s too desperate himself. And if you don’t stop now, he really won’t be able to help himself. He begins tugging you by your queue, trying to pry you away from him. With each hasty swipe of your fingers you suck a little harder, as if you were trying to match your pleasure with your mates’. He pulls at your kuru even harder but you’re unbudging, firmly holding the base of his cock as you relentlessly suckle on the most sensitive part of his tip.

“Stop.” He growls out of breath, finally looking down just to be tipped close to the edge by the sight below him. You look dumb and fucked out with his cock stuffed in your mouth, broken moans vibrating against his length as you franticly touch yourself.

Finally, he yanks you off him with one swift, hard tug, his cock slapping his stomach when it pops out of your mouth. You land on your behind, legs spreading wide open as your fingers work away at your now throbbing clit.

“Why? Can’t handle it?” You taunt him between pants and breathy, hoarse moans. Rather than answering he looks down at you with a cocked brow, kuru still in hand. Both of you stare at one another, shoulders and chests violently heaving as you both pant for air. He’s raw and pulsing, twitching from the heartbeat in the crown of his cock.

It's suspended mid air, jumping from how insanely aroused he’s left himself. Sticky beads of precum constantly roll down his shaft, one after the next and his balls are throbbing too. You get back on your knees and lunge for his cock again, tongue darting out to have another taste. He pulls you back, his hand still having a firm grasp of your kuru.

“Is this what you are like when you have been bred?” Ralak huffs, a little taken aback by your lewd behaviour. His gaze shifts to your pathetic attempt to make yourself cum, and a smirk spreads across his lips. “So desperate.” Your silence has his brows scrunching together and him yanking your head back so you’re looking up at him. A growl rumbles in his chest as he slowly rises to his feet, bringing you to your knees with him—his hung cock swaying directly in your face.

A smug little smile pulls at your lips when you realise you’re riling him up. You witness his jawbone flutter, his ears laying flat against his skull. He just wants to stuff his cock back down your throat to teach you a lesson. Instead he shoves your face into his crotch, your nose burying itself into the space between his cock and balls. He holds you there for a few seconds, just long enough that when he finally pulls you away you suck in a tiny gasp of air.

Ralak sighs a low, lengthy breath, forcing himself to regain his composure. He can’t understand how such a little thing can be so feisty. To act as if he couldn’t pin you down and take you without a scuffle. Truthfully it only makes him even harder. It only further proves that you are really the woman for him.

Slowly bringing you to your feet, he keeps your face pressed to his body so that your bottom lip drags along his torso as you make your way up. Your hand is still stuffed inside your tewng, slick fingers working hard to find their way back to your clit. With his free hand he grabs a hold of your hip, and steadily backs you up against the wall.

When your back hits the wall, a shaky breath is expelled from your lungs. He lets go of your kuru and rips your hand from your tewng. He then wedges his knee between your legs, putting pressure on your clit, making it flutter uncontrollably. His movements are quick but gentle, filled with purpose and desire. His eyes dart back and forth between yours as he searches them, his face just inches away from yours.

“Answer me, little one.” He whispers into your mouth.

“Yes.” Your answer is breathy and short.

Ralak heaves a heavy sigh.

“I am trying to be gentle…” He speaks the words through gritted teeth, using both hands on your hips to spin you around to face the wall. He lowers his head until his lips graze against the tip of your ear. “…but you make it so hard for me.” He growls, using the perfect amount of force to pin you against the wall with his body. His large hand swiftly moves to your lower stomach, cupping it to act as a protective barrier between the wall and your budding womb.

“No need to be. I can handle you just fine.” Your lips are pressed tight to your teeth, face flush against the smooth surface, making it hard for you to speak clearly. “Pregnant or not.”

Ralak chuckles.

“Is that right?” He speaks in an almost condescending tone, hurriedly tugging down your loincloth just enough to get access to your cunt. Without warning, he bends his knees a little to align your pelvises and then shoves his cock between your slickened, warm folds. “Oh tanhì, you are soaked.” His voice quiets down into a hushed whisper, “All from sucking my cock?”

A mewl splits your lips just as all the blood rushes to your face, staining it a bright pink. Your pussy clenches around nothingness only causing more of your slick to ooze on his cock. Your breath turns shaky, tail swishing wildly behind you. You can’t move even if you wanted to. He’s got you pinned down, quickly reminding you of his strength. And had it not been for his hand on your abdomen you would be completely plastered to the wall and taken on his terms.

“Tsk-tsk…Have you no shame?” Ralak tuts, holding you still. “Or must I give you a lesson on self-restraint?”

Despite his cockiness you can sense the urgency in his body language and in his voice. You can feel it in the way his hips stutter, as his cock slides back and forth between your pussy lips. His own desperation. The desire to be inside you. The need for release.

“Go on then, karyu.” You moan softly, causing his grip on you to loosen for a millisecond. Hearing that name brings a feeling of nostalgia. Of lust. You push back into him, your slippery hole trying to suck him inside with a few quick movements of your pelvis. “But I know you’ve been desperate… desperate to fuck your numeyu.”

“Oh, little one.” His chuckle is dark and depraved, his protective hand stiffening as if he were preparing it for what's to come. “Yet you are trying your hardest to take me inside you.” He licks your ear lobe to tip, whispering, “so cute.”

“Fnawe’tu [coward].” You mutter under your breath, steadying your feet to ground yourself.

Ralaks ears flicker and stand tall, then immediately lay flat to his head—his brow cocking in astonishment. His smirk grows wider, the heat in his chest spreading to his extremities. Now that pushes him over the edge.

“Say that again, numeyu.” He challenges you in a growl, angling his hips so his weeping cockhead prods at your entrance. He ensures not to let the buck of his hips win, keeping you empty and yearning.

“Haah… afraid to take what’s yours.” You purr, rising to the tips of your toes to try sink him inside you. “Fnawe’tu—”

Smack.

The sound of his swollen balls making contact with your puffy clit is almost as loud as your broken gasp. You smile open mouthed as he holds his position balls deep inside you, firmly pressing the tip of his cock into your cervix. He’s grinding his back teeth, digging his chin into your shoulder to quell the rumble of his chest from how tight you’re squeezing his cock.

You whine from the fullness of him stuffed inside your cunt, his unmoving hips sending a clear message of dominance. He’s hunched over you, body weight pinning you mercilessly against the wall, hand over your womb to keep your unborn safe—as promised. Still being gentle enough.

But you want him to lose it.

To fuck into you like he were in rut again. To use your pussy like a fucktoy to satiate his own greed and self pleasure. He deserves that much, for being such a competent and loving man to you. Yet it seems the only way to bring that out of him is to play dirty.

“Fnawe’tu [coward].” You repeat shakily.

Smack.

Another deep and hard thrust into your sloppy cunt. He lets loose the rumble in his chest this time, bearing his canines and putting most of his weight on you now. Lips pressed tightly together, your whimper is muffled and outright pathetic, pinched brows giving away the pleasure rippling through you. Still, he remains unmoving, undeniably making it clear who has the most leverage here. But that doesn’t really matter to you—you’re getting what you want, one way or another.

Right?

“Voìk si, little one [behave].” Ralak hisses, fighting the inner conflict within him.

“Haa—” Your laugh that follows is a little sinister, open mouthed and smug. Hands pressing into the wall you push off its surface, sinking him deeper inside you. “No.”

“Alright.” His voice is husky, thick with confidence and temperance.

With a rough, quick tug, his cock slips out of you with a squelch, hanging freely between his legs. Your slick mixed with his precum slowly dribbling off his tip and onto the floor between your pointed feet. You fall to the flat of your feet, panting and whining from the sudden emptiness.

“W-Wait.” You squeak, hastily getting back on the tips of your toes to stuff him inside you again. “Please.”

“What was that?” Ralak asks, voiced feigned with innocence. “A little louder.”

“Please.” You barely whisper, backing up on him.

“Come now, tanhì.” His hand slips from your hip to grip his cock. Giving it a few strokes he teases your cunt with his cockhead and you instinctively shimmy down. Hips snapping back to prevent you from taking him inside, he dips his head so his mouth is next to your ear and husks, “You can do better than that.”

“Please!” You moan loudly in desperation, reaching down to your knees to unfetter yourself from your tewng [loincloth].

“Please, what?” Ralak spits the last word through pursed lips, ready to give you exactly what you want if you just ask for it nicely.

“Please put it back inside.” You beg pathetically, finally getting the knot of your tewng undone. “Please, fuck me.”

“Ahh, there’s my good girl.” Ralak praises you with a grin, sinking his cock into your warmth at a leisurely pace. His breathing stutters for every inch that penetrates you. “Was that so hard?”

“Fuck.” You moan in relief, spreading your legs wider. He’s tamed you and he knows it. “No.”

“No…?” Ralak says it like a question, hissing when he bottoms out in your cunt.

“No, karyu.” You answer coyly, voice faltering from the pressure of his cockhead pushing into your cervix.

“Agh—haah” Ralak lets out a gruff grunt in response, his hips now snapping back and forth out of his control. He’s huffing and puffing next to your ear, pumping his cock in and out of you in a frenzy of need. Swollen balls repeatedly slapping against your clit, it’s almost impossible to hold back the gurgled noises escaping your throat.

“Fuck—so—fuckin’—deep—fuck.” The curses are punched out of you as he relentlessly smacks into you again and again.

“Lì’fyaz [language.]” Ralak chides in a growl, hand slipping down to pull back the hood of your clit—taut.

The continuous sting of your clit has your legs shaking and the way his cockhead is repeatedly stimulating your sweet spot has your eyes rolling back into your head. It’s almost too much all at once yet you yearn for more. Your cunt clamps down around him, especially when the tension becomes so tight you feel your stomach double-knot. Ralak hums when you tighten around him, only making him rut harder into you.

Pulling back, he glances down at you sucking him in, your tail curled tight to your back and his cock plunging in and out of your pussy. He can see just how tight you are as your pussy walls grip his girth mercilessly. And with the protective hand on your abdomen, he can feel each thrust against the palm of his hand. It makes his chest swell with pride—

You carry his child yet still take him so well.

“Oeÿa tsantu [my good girl]” Ralak slips into his native tongue, panting in an accent as thick as tree sap. “Oeÿa numeyutsyìp [my little student]”

Ralaks cock heats up inside you, heating your core along with it. It’s the same familiar sensation you feel before he provides you with your release. The feeling that keeps your eyes squeezed shut and breath shallow. He knows your close and slows his thrusts like he usually does, fucking you a little harder rather than faster, angling his pelvis so he’s right in your swelling g-spot.

Your hands fly behind you, grasping at whatever’s available as your orgasm washes through you. You gush all over your thighs, cum dribbling down your legs to your feet, some spattering on Ralak as he fucks and holds you through your high. It’s sudden and uncontrollable, leaving you sputtering out nonsense and your legs shaking violently beneath you.

“There it is. Good muntxate [wife].” Ralak huffs with a smirk, relishing in the quick, feverish flutter of your cunt on his cock. His voice is shaky from his uneven rhythm now that he can finally allow himself to finish too. “Love—hng—when you cum for me, you—ahh, haah—know that?”

He begins grinding to you, shoving you further into the wall as he focuses on his own climax. He uses his feet to kick your legs closed, and pulls out of you, stuffing himself between your thighs. He’s groaning and growling, hunched over you with bent knees and flushed, flattened ears. Skin slapping against skin, he humps at your thighs, thick cock sliding back and forth over your still pulsing clit.

His cockhead continuously pokes out between your folds, tip oozing and oozing with precum. Both his hands fly to your hips, gripping them with force as his thrusts become almost violent. You struggle to keep yourself standing as his hips smack into you repeatedly, your body jolting with each thrust. He gives you one last, harsh thrust, holding you still against him as you feel his cock throb wildly between your thighs. You look down to see his huge load shoot out in thick, white ropes. He’s grumbling behind you, giving your thighs an extra few uncontrollable thrusts as he peaks in his high.

Finally you fall to the flat of your feet, his arms instantly snaking around your waist to support your weight entirely.

“I told you no taunting, tanhì.” He’s referring to the time he opened up about his first rut, “Next time, you ask nicely. Tslam? [Understand?]” Ralak says breathlessly.

“Sran, oeÿa karyu. tslolam. [Yes, my teacher. I understand].” You blubber, fucked out and jaded.

——

1K notes · View notes

norrizzandpia · 8 months

Note

can we get pt 2 of 34+35 where yn releases nonsense or positions, everyone is more confused because are we talking about the same guy?? in response all yn does is mention his thighs 💀💀

YES MAAM OFC I LOVE THIS STORYLINE

WHO IS OSCAR PIASTRI? (OP81)

Summary: Oscar and Y/n always loved to mess with the fans. Fortunately, the best way to do that is spill their sex life.

Warnings: sexual conversations, language

Note: THE THIGHS 😫😫😫😫😫 SO MANY WORDS NOT ENOUGH TIME 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

ynnn Nonsense out now! 💋

Comments:

osc81fan I- WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

piaosc ARE WE SURE ALL OF US ARE TALKING ABT THE CORRECT MAN?

- mclarenpiaandlan YEAH WTF HOW IS THIS OSCAR

mclarensgirlll SHE DID THIS LAST TIME AND WE NEVER RECOVERED

- landonorris ILL NEVER RECOVER.

oscarpiastri ITS ABOUT MEEEEEEEE 🤭🤭

- danielricciardo we are aware.

- maxverstappen i think youve said that enough

- charlesleclerc YOURE SUPPOSED TO BE LITTLE OSCAR 😰😰😰

- ynnn definitely not LITTLE oscar 😏

- alexalbon STOP.

——

ynnn maybe i lied? Lookin’ at him doesn’t have me thinkin’ nonsense, it has me thinkin…

Comments:

oscarpiastri my girlfriend everyone 😀

- mclarensgirlll hes probably giggling at his phone at this very moment

- landonorris and youd be right!

maxverstappen IM SO SCARED FOR MY LIFE

- danielricciardo WE CANT ESCAPE IT

- alexalbon HE PLAYS THE SONGS EVERYWHERE

- landonorris IT NEVER ENDS.

ln4andop81 anyone else curious abt what shes going to say on that podcast next week where theyre infamous for asking abt sex????

- oscpastry i bet you oscar will forever be changed for us

- mclarensgirlll he already is 🥲

——

TWITTER

ln4andop81 IN HONOR OF 24 HOURS BEFORE Y/NS PODCAST EPISODE, DROP THE MOST SHOCKING LYRICS FROM NONSENSE DOWN BELOW

- oscpastry “you said you like my eyes and you like the make em roll” SOOOO BASICALLY WHEN WERE THOSE WORDS FALLING FROM OUR BABY’S LIPS????

- mclarenpiaandlan REAL BECAUSE HOW DOES HE EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT IS 😭😭

- mclarensgirlll I THINK THE LYRIC “opposite of soft” LET US KNOW HE IS WAYYYY MORE EXPERIENCED THAN WE THOUGHT

- piaosc DOM OSCAR????? FUCKING HOW. IN. WHAT. WORLD.

- ynnn this world! 💋

- piaosc IS THIS SOME SORT OF GAME???

- mclarenpiaandlan THE PATTERN IS PATTERNING

- mclarensgirlll ITS SO ICONIC MY BRAIN CANT HANDLE IT

——

TWITTER

ln4andop81 hows everyone doing after that podcast….

- mclarensgirlll “WHO IS OSCAR PIASTRI?” trending on twitter makes me feel less alone after listening to Y/n’s tell all

- mclarenpiaandlan host: “whats your favorite body part of oscar’s?” Y/n: “his thighs” BY THEN I ALREADY KNEW WHAT WAS COMING BUT THE HOST HAD TO KEEP GOING host: *giggling* “why?” Y/n: “10 out of 10 for riding” I THINK MY BRAIN WENT DEAD FOR A SEC

- piaosc GIRLY KEPT GOING TOO host: “did you ask or, like, how did that come about?” Y/n: “well, he was just kind of sitting there, manspread ya know, and he caught on the minute he saw the way i was looking at him. Ive never see him so excited before.” *laughing* “i think he enjoys it more than me!”

- ln4andop81 no words. Host: “so he knows you like his thighs?” Y/n: “Oh my god, yeah! I hate him for it but he purposefully wears his shortest pair of shorts around the house so when he sits, that’s all I see. I’m telling you, Oscar knows how much I love his body and he knows EXACTLY how to use it.” Host: “what do you mean?” Y/n: “just that the shirtless photo i posted of him is one of many and the rest of them could not be up on the internet for longer than 5 seconds before being taken down because they’re borderline all pornographic” OSCAR???? BABY BOY??? WHO ARE YOU.

- mclarensgirlll BRO AND THEN host: “your new song, Nonsense, mentions things being more rough than soft. Is that really true with him?” Y/n: “Are you kidding?! The fans who think he’s super innocent and pure are in for some serious whiplash when i say that he is anything but that. He’s not Oscar when we’re in bed. He’s some alter ego who has no problem fucking against a random wall.” UHHHHHHHHHHH RUE WHEN WAS THIS????

- oscarpiastri now THAT is one thing i wont be answering 😊

- ynnn knowing myself ill probably reveal it in some song in the future 🤦🏼‍♀️

- mclaren maybe try and hold off on that one plz bestie 😙

- landonorris ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^🙏🏻

- danielricciardo ^^

- alexalbon ^^^

- maxverstappen ^

- charlesleclerc ^^^^

3K notes · View notes

h4m1lt0ns · 8 months

Text

HEARTBREAK SYNDROME.

episode six :: THANK U, NEXT.

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ pairing ︴max verstappen x ex!y/n

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ genre ︴social media au / irl snippets

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ summary ﹔y/n has come to save the industry, oh and max crashes.

fc – wonyoung jang (28)

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ warnings ﹕max crashes and dnfs, shady behavior, i accidentally said w13 instead of w14.

y/n

♡ liked by honeymoon, carlossainz55 and 24,294,109 others.

y/n heartbreak syndrome, 20/9 🫀 my sixth studio album is finally coming out and i can’t wait for u to hear it !! (i actually physically can not wait until it’s released i’ll need to be held down srsly) i’ve worked with some of my absolute favourite people in the entire world to make the songs on here and i hope that u guys love this project as much i do 🎻🤍 excuse the twitter jump scare btw i was excited sorry lol 🫂🫧

tagged: honeymoon, arianagrande, theweeknd.

4,294,104 comments.

y/n I MADE AN ALBUM GUYS!!! AN ALBUM!! GUYSSS!!

➜ username she’s so excited i love her 😭

➜ y/n IM PUMPED

➜ username Y/N INTERACTING WITH US AGAIN????

➜ y/n HEHEHE

username excuse the twitter jumpscare ??? bitch i almost jumped out of my skin 😟

➜ y/n my b 😭

username YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS

username LETS GO YES OMGGGGG

username THIS ALBUM IS ABT TO BE 🔥🔥

➜ y/n YOU BET

username LANA DEL RAY??? ARIANA GRANDE?? THE WEEKND??? OR WERE GETTING FED WELL BOYS

➜ y/n EEYUH

carlossainz55 if you can’t wait what should i say bc i’m literally jittery

➜ y/n 😭

➜ username real as fuck

➜ landonorris no actually tho

honeymoon i’ve never had this much fun recording a song 🤍

➜ y/n the honour is mine, mother.

theweeknd proud of you

➜ y/n ABELLLLLLL

➜ theweeknd RAHHHHH

➜ y/n RAHHHHH

charles_leclerc THE WEEKND?? YOU LISTENED TO ME??

➜ y/n YES BAE

➜ username CHARLES LECLERC YOU FUCKING GENIUS

danielricciardo BOUNCING OFF THE WALLS I CANT WAIT

➜ y/n ME TOOOOOO

yukitsunoda0511 MOTHERRRRRRRRR

➜ y/n BITCH IM A MOTHA

➜ username YES YOU ARE BAE 🤭

georgerussell63 i literally jumped out of my seat and toto side eyed me SO hard bUT LETS GOO

➜ y/n FISKEJJA PLSSS

username THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU

username mother has come to save us 😮‍💨🙏🏻

username i literally screamed at work

➜ y/n makes both of us 😁

username dropped to my knees in the middle of the gym

username claiming is there someone else

➜ username claiming starry eyes 🤞🏽

➜ y/n they actually transition into each other

➜ username WOAH.

➜ username OH?

alexandrasaintmleux heartbreak syndrome tour when

➜ y/n 👀

➜ alexandrasaintmleux you best BELIEVE i will attended every show 😌

francisca.cgomes BUT IT WAS ALL IN MY HEAYEAHYEAHYEAHEAD

➜ y/n IT WAS ALL IN MY HEAD

➜ username STOP TEASING US OML

➜ landonorris KIKA HEARD IT???

➜ y/n well.

➜ landonorris I THOUGHT I WAS YOUR FAVOURITE MUM 😢

➜ y/n YOU ARE BABY IM SORRY 😭

pierregasly literally ran a lap, i’m too excited.

➜ charles_leclerc he actually did

lilymhe MY WIFE IS BACKKK

➜ alexalbon come on man

➜ lilymhe no babe lOOK AWAY

➜ y/n i say let him watch 🥱

➜ alexalbon 🤨

☆ IMESSAGE with ; BOARD OF DIRECTORS.

y/n: GUESS WHOS COMING TO THE ITALIAN GRAND PRIX

honey badger : iS THIS A PISS TAKE???

my baby lando: shut up 😒

my baby lando: shut the actual fuck up 😟

chili!: YOU BETTER BE FOR REAL

chal eclair: REALLY OH MY GOD Y/N

alabono: PULL UP IMMEDIATELY 😁

PIERRE GASLYYYY: YEAHHHHH BOY

chal eclair: you’re coming to the ferrari garage first i don’t make the rules 🙏🏻

chili!: what charles said 🙏🏻

PIERRE GASLYYYY: UHM NO ???

alabono: c’mon now we all know where she’s going first

my baby lando: to the mclaren garage obv ??

chili!: no tf she’s not 😐

princess george: guys

chal eclair: ferrari garage or i run out into the track so i get ran over

chili!: oKAY RELAX 🔥

my baby lando: listen

my baby lando: i’ll be holding y/n hostage in the mclaren garage just so you know 🧡

alabono: see this just won’t work mate 🫤

princess george: GUYS

honey badger: i was gonna say rb garage but i’ll stay quite lmfao

PIERRE GASLYYYY: yeah let us know how that will turn out 🙄

my baby lando: yeah how abt no.

yukino: i will turn everyone into human sashimi if i don’t see y/n in MY end of the garage tmrw 🙏🏻❤️🔥

y/n: 😟

my baby lando: 😟

alabono: 😟

chal eclair: CHILL MATE

chili!: bwoah

PIERRE GASLYYYY: okay yeah no

princess george: GUYS.

princess george: y/n will be staying at the mercedes garage and hospitality

princess george: your welcome btw i convinced her to come

my baby lando: george william russell, i know where you live.

chili!: ?????????

chal eclair: ^^^^

PIERRE GASLYYYY: retweet

y/n: wait

y/n: yuki where tf have u been

yukino: i don’t feel like talking to people sometimes

y/n: retweet that

honey badger: real

chili!: honestly tho

my baby lando: real as fuck

alabono: still not over y/n picking george over the rest of us 🥲

chili!: yEAH WHY HIM HE’S NOT SPECIAL

chili!: HE’S BRITISH

yukino: retweet THAT

my baby lando: oH CARLOS YOU HAVE A PROBLEMS WITH BRITS NOW HUH??

honey badger: fIGHT FIGHT FIGHT

y/n: you guys are the most unserious mfs

chal eclair: bae george is not special

chal eclair: come home to ferrari 🙏🏻❤️

chili!: literally like ??

alabono: HOME?? FERRARI???

PIERRE GASLYYYY: ^^^^

my baby lando: “come home to ferrari”

my baby lando: i just had an aneurism

chal eclair: 😐

y/n: we’re literally gonna be together all day 😭

y/n: plus apparently roscoe hamilton is coming tmrw so

my baby lando : YOU PICKED A DOG OVER ME??

y/n: same same

my baby lando: BITCH 😭

honey badger: HAKSKANSJA

chili!: I CACKLEDDDDDD

chal eclair: LMFAOOOO

princess george: ROFLLLLLLL

my baby lando: we hAD A NO BULLYING POLICY

y/n: can’t hear you over doing my makeup while lily, carmen and kika scream along to lana del rey 🤍

my baby lando: i don’t like you.

y/n: liar

my baby lando: true

MAX VERSTAPPEN COMMENTS ON HIS DNF AT THE ITALIAN GRAND PRIX:

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfiction #f1 smau #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lando norris x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #george russell x reader #max verstappen #yuki tsunoda x reader #pierre gasly x reader #alex albon x reader

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demonpiratehuntress · 4 months

Text

baby (name)! (Mihawk, Buggy, Shanks, Brook, Chopper)

featuring - Dracule Mihawk x F!Reader, Buggy x F!Reader, Shanks x F!Reader, Brook x F!Reader, Chopper x F!Reader

summary - you somehow get turned into a baby and they have to spend 24 hours babysitting you

warnings - my first time writing for ALL of these characters, so i'm sorry if i get their characters wrong! im only 416 episodes into the anime. i tried my best!

a/n - this was requested by @faioula16, i hope you like it!

MIHAWK

This could honestly go either way. This guy is unpredictable and even you never know what his next move will be. But you're his faithful and loving girlfriend, so there are some exceptions when it comes to you. Like when some deranged devil fruit user turns you into a baby, and Mihawk could have had someone else take care of you, but he wanted to do it himself. He was curious, now that it was you who was an infant.

But that may also be because a witness to the scene had expressed fear for infant you, saying that Mihawk was too cold and ruthless to take care of a baby. He didn't need to prove otherwise, and he didn't want to, but something just gnawed at him. Protectiveness, maybe. You were in such a vulnerable state right now, only he could protect you and care for you.

It had absolutely nothing to do at all with the fact that you looked so adorable staring at him with your big (eye colour) eyes, reaching out to tap his because the strange colour fascinated you. No, it had nothing to do with how cute your excited squeal was every time he picked you up or looked at you. He was absolutely not entranced by your cute little smile or how you clung to him with little hands that could barely hold his one finger. Absolutely not.

Mihawk is actually a pretty good babysitter. But only for you. He will sit and read to you with you on his lap, trying not to smile when you giggle and smack the book, always catching you when you lunged forward excitedly and almost fell off his lap. He will never finish the story, but he reads to you anyway because you seem to like it...for a little while.

"(Name), no!"

He almost had a heart attack when he set you down for one second to put the book away, and you almost fell off the table because you were trying to crawl to him. Your eyes filled with tears when he yelled, even if he hadn't meant to sound angry. His gaze softened, and he picked up and cradled you against his chest, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

"It's alright, I won't hurt you. You're fine, little one."

And then you really are fine, your little body comforted by his actions and words. They lull you into sleep, and soon you rest on his shoulder and fall into a deep sleep, gripping his shirt collar tightly in your tiny fist.

"Sleep well, (Name)."

When you awake, in your usual adult form, you're too nervous to suggest it, but thankfully Mihawk is thinking the same thing.

"I think I'd like a little you or me to keep me company."

BUGGY

Buggy is horrible with children. I mean he's not great with people, but he is absolutely, terrifyingly not good with kids at all. So when you were somehow turned into a tiny human being who could barely stand on two legs, he was shocked. And slightly scared, though he would never admit it. You were the only person he genuinely liked, so he tried not to be too...rough, with your little form. Picking you up was as far as he got, but even then he held you out awkwardly like a football.

And then you squealed and happily reached for his nose, the bright red circular appendage attracting your attention instantly. Now, Buggy was sensitive about his nose, but he let you touch it. A testament to how much he liked you. And, if he were being honest, you were actually kind of cute squeezing his nose like that until he couldn't breath-

Exhale out the mouth.

When he remembered he could use his mouth to breathe, he smiled a little at how much you were enjoying yourself playing with his nose. You even touched his makeup and all his markings, out of curiosity. Your eyes were bright with confusion but also fascination, and it did something weird to Buggy. Made him feel...warm inside?

Then he decided to, experimentally, see what your reaction to his devil fruit would be in this tiny form. He set you down on the floor again, and then detached his hand. Your eyes went wide and you instantly covered your eyes with your small hands, your bottom lip trembling. He panicked, tripping over himself and falling into a tangled heap in front of you. You peeked between your fingers to see this, then burst out into cute laughter. Buggy almost glared at you, but then remembered you were just a baby and instead picked himself up and smiled - or rather tried his best not to smile like a maniac - at you.

Then you saw his floating hand, and grabbed it.

"No no, (Name), that's not-"

You stuck his fingers in your mouth, and he groaned. You just giggled innocently, and only then did he realise his devil fruit could be a source of entertainment for you. He detached multiple limbs and floated them around, watching as you squealed in glee and crawled around trying to catch them.

Were you actually having fun because of him?

When he finally put his body back together again, you pouted but crawled up to his leg and hugged it, gurgling happily as if to thank him. He was stunned. He slowly picked you up and you offered him a toothless smile, before yawning. Still unsure, he laid you on his shoulder and awkwardly patted your back, but that seemed to work because you slowly fell asleep.

When you woke up again, finally an adult, you grinned at him, "Shall we make you a father?"

SHANKS

It was his fault, really. He picked the fight, contrary to his usual behaviour. But that guy had said something about you, and he couldn't ignore it, so of course he acted. And now here you were, a tiny baby fisting his shirt in your tiny hand and looking up at him with big, curious (eye colour) eyes. He had experience with children, of course, having spent some time with Luffy. But you were so small, so delicate.

"Captain, what-"

He ignored the confused questions from his crew as he brought you back on board the ship, immediately taking you to his quarters. It shouldn't last long, he reminded himself, but he still felt guilty. Though that quickly disappeared when you giggled and crawled around his quarters, knocking things over and hiding with a loud giggle when he caught you.

"Oi, (Name)!" He tried to sound stern, he really did, but his laugh have his mood away. You stuck your head out from under his bed and stuck your tiny tongue out at him, and he burst out laughing. "Oh, you're cute, sweetheart."

He lifted you up again and you squealed excitedly and reached for his hair, the bright colour attracting your attention. He grinned and put you on his head, keeping his hands on your small waist, and soon felt you tug on his red strands. You were giggling and pulling and kicking your legs happily, so he endured the pain just for your sake. It was very cute how you thought his hair was a toy, and by the time you got tired of it, it was a mess. Strands were everywhere, out of place, sticking out...but it didn't matter to him.

Because now you were looking at him with your big, innocent eyes and suckling on your hand as he cradled you against his chest. He gently rubbed your back and pressed a soft kiss to your tiny tuft of (hair colour) hair.

"You're so pretty even as a baby, (Name)."

You rewarded him with a sloppy kiss on his cheek, making him laugh. He sat on his bed with you still in his arms, watching as you grew tired and offered him the cutest sight - the tiniest of yawns.

"Sleep, little one."

He gently rocked you to sleep, reassuringly and soothingly patting your small back as you drifted off on his shoulder. He felt warm inside, as if a small fire had been lit inside him. He knew what it was.

And when you woke up in adult form, he grinned at you, "Let me give you a baby, sweetheart."

BROOK

Brook has experience with babies. Maybe not human babies, but babies nonetheless. He knows a human baby is very different to a whale baby, but he figures that there can be similarities too. Such as entertainment, which is his area of expertise. So when he looks down at his feet to see baby you tugging on his pants, he is somewhat prepared. He has no idea how you were turned into a baby, of course, but he's not complaining because you are so, so adorable.

"What happened to (Name)?" Franky asked the skeleton, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing important!" Was Brook's gleeful reply, followed by a laugh when you somehow crawled on top of his afro and knocked his hat off so you could take its place.

"Nothing imp-" Franky sighed. "Do you even know how to look after a baby?" Franky's eyes worriedly drifted to where you sat upon the skeleton's head, tugging on his afro and squealing with delight. You wobbled precariously.

"No, but it can't be any different to a baby whale!"

Franky would have commented on that, if you hadn't slipped off Brook's head. The cyborg easily caught you, before holding you out to Brook, "Don't let her sit on your head."

"Noted."

For the rest of the day, Brook occupied you by sitting you down on his bed and playing music for you, telling you stories about Laboon and his crew, and about his experiences in the Grand Line before you guys found him. He sang all sorts of songs, played all sorts of melodies, while you giggled and clapped your hands excitedly, bouncing up and down. Brook smiled, the sight warming heart - oh, but he doesn't have a heart. He hardly ever got tired, but you prompted him to play for hours on end, until he really was exhausted. So he picked you up, settled on his bed, and lay you on his lap before humming a tune. You slowly drifted off to sleep, and Brook smiled.

He hoped he could play for one of the crew's babies one day.

CHOPPER

Another island, another mishap, another adventure. No trip is ever boring with the Straw Hats, and this was again proven when an unfortunate encounter with a devil fruit user who could change people's ages led to you being turned into an infant. And that's how you found yourself cradled in Sanji's arms, with Chopper trying to get a good look at you all throughout the walk back to the Sunny.

"Chopper, she's fine," the cook tried to assure the doctor, but Chopper was having none of it.

He was so worried, because no one was equipped to take care of a baby, and he cared about you so much that now you were a baby, he was becoming overprotective. As soon as Sanji set you down somewhere safe for Chopper to examine you, he was grabbing his bag and bringing out all his different tools. He checked all your vitals and made sure you were first and foremost healthy, before he could consider anything else.

Then you touched his blue nose and widened your eyes in fascination, gurgling softly, and Chopper blushed brightly. He smiled and poked your nose back, and you let out the cutest giggle that melted the reindeer's little heart. He shifted to his humanoid form and gently lifted you up into his arms, cradling you as he gazed down at you with the utmost love, adoration and fascination he could manage. You were so tiny, even more so than him, and so so cute. Then you sneezed, looking stunned for a moment before giggling loudly. And Chopper thought there was nothing more joy-inducing than holding and watching baby you.

"Chopper, where's-oh." Nami stopped when she saw Chopper standing there just holding you, one of his fingers in your tiny hand as he cooed at you and made you giggle. She smiled softly and left the room, deciding you were in safe hands.

"You're the cutest baby in the world, (Name)," Chopper told you. You just smiled brightly, exposing your gums cause you had no teeth, and waved your small arms around happily.

Chopper was really good with you. He monitored you throughout the 24 hours, making sure you ate properly, got enough sleep and were bathed properly. He is probably the best caretaker out of all the men on this list, not only because he's doctor but he's naturally caring and nurturing. It comes like second nature to him. Besides, you were such a calm and quiet baby - except for the giggling - that you made it easy for him. He was almost sad when you fell asleep, knowing you'd be grown up again when you woke up.

But maybe one day the crew would be able to fawn over a baby everyday. Maybe one day.

#one piece #op #one piece x reader #one piece x you #dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk x you #mihawk x reader #mihawk x you #buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy x you #shanks x reader #shanks x you #brook x reader #brook x you #chopper x reader #chopper x you

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puddingyun · 3 months

Text

sensitive . ݁₊ ⊹ k.ys

yeo x reader

18+ mdni

: 1.6k words, childhood friends, smut, dacryphilia, handjob/blowjob :

day 6 of fff24 ♡

Yeosang had always been softer than other guys you knew. He didn't care for the ugly parts of growing up - the playground fights, the bitching and backstabbing, the grazing of knees and spraining of ankles - and instead preferred the quieter, more beautiful things. He liked playing video games by himself, watching dust motes dance in the sun, and sipping on strawberry-banana smoothies when everybody else was seeing who could down the most malt chocolate shakes without puking.

It had always been quietly presumed that he would grow out of his softness when he got older, replace his naïveté with a little harshness and sharpen the gentle parts of him. This never happened, though. When he was younger, Yeosang had been the boy who needed a kiss to his knee before a band-aid could be applied, and now that he was older he still needed a kiss to his bruises before he could forget about their dull ache. As much as some people liked to turn their noses up at those parts of him, you couldn't help but find it endearing. He was sweeter than anybody else you knew, the same way a bruised peach was sweeter than a firm one.

Even this afternoon when you'd been walking back to his place in the snow you could feel his hand holding on tight to yours each time you walked over an icy patch, scared to slip and hurt himself. Each time you glanced over at him and saw his rosy cheeks you were reminded of his clumsy caution when he was younger, tiptoeing when everybody else would run.

You could hear him in the shower from where you sat on the sofa, his soft sighs interrupting the water drumming against tile. You turned down the sound of the TV and listened to him from afar, all of his faint sounds and movements filling the apartment like a radio show playing from next door.

"I'm sleepy," was the first thing he murmured as he stepped out of the bathroom, dragging his feet along the floor on his way to the sofa. He sat down beside you with a long huff and then slowly leaned into you, his face pressing into the crook of your neck so that you could feel his breath on your skin. "Aren't you sleepy yet?"

"Only a little. I just wanted to watch TV for a while," you replied, raising a hand to run your fingers through Yeosang's hair. When your nails scratched his scalp you felt him melt into you even more, moving to wrap his arms around you. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just tired," he mumbled, withdrawing his face from your neck to see what it was that you were watching on TV. You watched the way he blinked slowly, trying to figure out what was happening in the middle of the episode he'd just walked in on. He was sweet and fuzzy around the edges the way you'd always known him to be.

"Hey," you whispered, smoothing some of his hair out of his face. "C'mere."

He was only a little curious when he turned his head back towards you, lips parted and ready to ask what was wrong. When you leaned in and pressed a soft peck to his lips his expression quickly changed to a smile, hands holding onto your waist tightly as he chased after your lips, kissing you again and again and again until you were breathless.

"I thought you said you were tired," you teased, kissing the space between his eyebrows.

"I am, but..." he started and just as quickly trailed off, his cheeks flushed and hands wandering up beneath your top.

"But what, Yeo?" you asked, already smirking. As though on cue, Yeosang blinked twice and his eyes turned shiny with tears, glimmering in the low glow coming from the TV.

"We could kiss more," he mumbled, thumbs dragging along the skin beneath your breasts as though testing the waters. You watched, amazed as always, as his eyes remained a pool of unshed tears even as he tried to blink them away. They stayed there, not spilling or going away, and Yeosang's cheeks only turned darker the longer you went without answering.

"Okay," you replied finally, smiling at his relieved expression. You pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips and laid a hand on his chest. "Lay back."

Yeosang did as told, obedient and malleable as always. You placed your hands on his shoulders and your legs on either side of him so that you were pressed together, his arousal from the kisses you'd exchanged already obvious. Slowly, so slow it ached, you leaned down and kissed him again. This time his tongue swiped against your lips, hot and needy, and when you opened your mouth to let him in he groaned low in his throat.

His hands explored while your tongue licked into your mouth, pushing up your shirt only to travel back down to your hips before his blunt nails were digging into your ass, pulling you closer to him as though you weren't already as close as you could get. You took his bottom lip between your teeth, sucking and letting go with a soft nip that made Yeosang moan. When you pulled back a string of saliva connected your lips for a second before snapping and disappearing. You giggled, watching as the first tear rolled down Yeosang's temple.

"Are you okay?" you asked, even though you already knew the answer. Yeosang nodded, flustered, and sniffled. You felt him grind his hips up into you, eyes fluttering shut as he did.

"Yeah. I just like you a lot," he admitted breathily. He looked beautiful, lips slick with spit and lashes wet with tears he hadn't yet shed. You leaned in and kissed along his jaw, right up to his ear, and then kissed down his neck, stopping your trail only to bite down on his skin. "Fuck-"

Yeosang's moan trailed off into a whimper as you sucked on the skin until you'd left behind a dark, splotchy hickey there, the indents of your teeth still visible around it. You glanced up at Yeosang and noticed that his temples were both wet now, glistening each time he blinked. You pressed a quick kiss there, tasting the salt of his tears on your lips, and then moved to position yourself between his legs.

"Are you going to...?" Yeosang asked quietly, his voice wobbly and his hips bucking up into nothing.

"Do you want me to?" you asked, smiling when Yeosang nodded. "Okay, baby."

He was only a little squirmy when you pulled down his sweatpants and underwear to reveal his dick, already hard and leaking precum against his tummy. You smiled, leaning in to kiss the base while you watched his expression twitch from the slightest touch.

His soft panting rose to a string of moans as you took his dick in your hand, rubbing your thumb against the frenulum and watching how more precum oozed out of him. You couldn't help but smile as you began to stroke him, each movement wetter than the last. Even now he was sweet, his cheeks wet when he lifted his head to look down at you. It was all you could do not to shove your free hand in your pants and get off to the sight of him.

"Fuck, that feels good," Yeosang moaned, thrusting up to meet your movements so that he was fucking your fist. His abs tensed with each movement and then spasmed with each little hiccup and sob that managed to escape his lips. Leaning down to suck on the head of his dick you watched him press a hand over his mouth to contain his noises, moans muffled as you flicked your tongue against the head of his dick.

"Cum whenever you want, Yeosangie," you reassured him, eyeing the hand balled into a fist at his side. With each stroke of his dick you twisted your wrist a little, watching how fat, hot tears escaped Yeosang's eyes with each blink. He threw his head back and moaned loudly, dropping his hand from his mouth to let his sounds out into the apartment. You giggled, leaning down to kiss down one of the veins that ran along his cock.

"That feels - fuck - that feels so good," he sobbed, voice strained as he fucked into your hand. "Can I really cum whenever?"

"Of course, love," you hummed, kneading at his thigh with your free hand. "Whenever you want."

This was all the permission he needed, because as soon as you put his mouth back on him he was spilling his load on your tongue, whimpering and sobbing as you sucked him off through his orgasm. Even as you lifted your head and swallowed what he'd given you he was still hiccuping, tears rolling down his cheeks like a waterfall. Except this waterfall wasn't thundering or dangerous, it was meek and sweet.

"Good?" you asked as you moved back up to kiss him once more, the taste of cum and tears and spit all mixing to create an odd but familiar flavour.

"Mhm," Yeosang sniffed. He smiled up at you. "Now I'm really tired."

"Let me go take a shower then we can get into bed," you assured him, stroking his hair out of his face to kiss his forehead.

As you stood, you glanced back at Yeosang, his face all messy with tears and his nose and cheeks pink, and felt your heart (as well as something else) throb for him.

You really did love how soft Yeosang was.

#pirateeznet #joongfryefff24 #kang yeosang x reader #kang yeosang smut #ateez smut #ateez x reader #he's the sweetest (ㅠ‸ㅠ)

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cookiescribble · 5 months

Text

Show Me How To Be Whole Again

A/N: hi everyone! This is the fic I've been working on for eight months 😮‍💨. I hope it came out as well as I hoped it would 😅 - mod angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: When Spencer is abducted, you rush to the team to make sure you're there when they find him. After you get home, Spencer's behavior starts to get more and more concerning, and you're desperate for answers. (based on 2x15 and the aftermath of that episode)

Word Count: 7.1k

CW: Mentions of abduction, violence, drug addiction, withdrawal, arguing. some angst in the middle but i am incapable of writing something without a happy ending.

~~~~~

The call came early in the morning. They said they called you as soon as they could.

If you were thinking rationally, or if you could stand being alone for 5 minutes after hearing the news, maybe you would’ve stayed home. But you couldn’t stay put knowing Spencer was in trouble.

You quickly threw a few days’ worth of clothes in a carry-on bag and took the first flight out of the nearest airport. You were trying so hard to keep yourself together and not break down crying on a crowded airplane, but the thoughts just kept rushing in your head. You were so worried about him.

When you landed, you called the team and told them you were going to the police station and you were going to stay there until they found him. You wouldn’t let anyone argue with you. You wouldn’t be able to calm down until they found him anyway, so being anywhere else didn’t make sense.

You didn’t really think of what you’d do when you got there. You’d just been on autopilot since you got the call. You were hoping someone would meet you there.

When you frantically burst through the doors of the police station, JJ was standing there waiting for you. You dropped your bag and hugged her tight.

“It was my fault,” she choked out, sobbing. “We were together and… we split up… I shouldn’t have split up…”

You shook your head vigorously. “No, no, you’re not the one who abducted him. It’s not your fault.” You were also sobbing now. You tried taking deep breaths to calm yourself, but all you could think about was what could possibly be happening to Spencer right now.

You calmed down enough to ask, “Where is everybody else?”

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath herself. “We set up at the unsub’s house. He took Spence to a secondary location, and Garcia set up there to get to his computers.” She looked down. “I really should be getting back there.”

You nodded while she talked. “I’m coming with you,” you announced.

She looked at you, concerned. “We can’t risk you-“

You cut her off. “I am coming with you. I’m staying with you until we find him,” you stated forcefully.

She didn’t argue further. She could see the desperation in your eyes, you’re sure. Even someone who didn’t analyze behavior for a living could see that. “Alright. Let’s go.”

…

You arrived at the house. You couldn’t tell how long the car ride took; every second felt like an hour.

When everybody saw you, they took turns giving you a hug. You could tell they were concerned that you were here, but they could see how devastated you were. You think they understood.

You hung around while they all did their jobs and tried to find Spencer. You sat next to Penelope and watched as she tried to do whatever she could to help find him.

Time passed. The team was coming in and out of the room as they needed to. Derek was probably in here the most, giving his moral support to Penelope.

Suddenly, the monitors in front of you lit up.

“What‘s happening?” Derek asked.

“I… don’t know,” Penelope answered.

Your heart dropped as an image popped up on the screen.

It was Spencer. He was sitting in a chair, his hands tied together. He was wearing the clothes you watched him pack on the morning you last saw him.

He looked so scared.

“Guys! Get in here!” you heard Derek yell.

You couldn’t look away from the screen.

The rest of the team rushed in, faces dropping as they saw what was happening.

Someone was talking in the background of the stream. You couldn’t hear them. Your heart was thumping so hard you could hear it in your ears. Spencer was replying to whatever they were saying. Through your loud heartbeat, you could hear his trembling voice. Your eyes started to water.

After a few moments, you heard someone near you say something and suddenly you were being pulled away from the screen and into another room.

When you realized what was happening, you looked up to see Hotch holding your shoulders, pushing you away from the horrific scene unfolding on the monitors.

You started sobbing. “I have to see him,” you tried to say, but your voice was cracking.

“No. You saw that he’s alive. That’s all you need to see.” he said firmly. He was protecting you from seeing something that would truly break you.

You couldn’t argue. What you saw shook you to your very core; you couldn’t go back in there. You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded. “You’re going to find him and bring him back safe.” It wasn’t a question. You knew they’d find him. They had to.

You took a step back, telling Hotch he could go back to the team in the other room, and that you were okay out here.

You sat at a table, laying your head down and covering it with your arms. You had started crying, and you couldn’t stop. How could they do this to him? He’s never done anything to hurt anybody. All he does is help people. How could someone look at him and feel anything other than warmth, comfort, and love?

You heard footsteps come into the room. The girls came in and sat around you. You picked your head up to look at them, your eyes already swollen from crying so much.

“What happened?” you asked frantically. Your heart was racing again.

“He’s okay,” Emily said quickly. “He’s alive. The unsub… made him choose a victim to keep alive, but there’s going to be more victims… and then the camera cut off.” She took a deep breath. “It looked like making that decision let him live.”

You buried your face in your hands. This was so cruel. you knew he dealt with bad people every day, but… this was so heartbreaking. How could someone feel so little remorse for other human beings that they force an innocent person to decide someone’s fate?

You took deep breaths to try not to cry again. “I can tell he’s in so much pain right now… He’s going to blame himself for all those people’s deaths. The guilt is going to eat him up inside. He’ll feel horrible even if he does make it out of this.”

Everyone took turns patting your back to reassure you. “He is going to make it out of this. He’ll be home soon.”

You nodded, forcing yourself to believe it. You had to believe it. If you didn’t believe it… you would break down more than you ever have before.

…

You stayed in that room for what felt like an eternity. The team took turns keeping you company when they weren’t busy. They gave you vague updates to let you know that Spencer was still alive. They didn’t tell you details of what they saw. You didn’t ask. Seeing the somber looks on their faces told you all you needed to know.

Eventually, everyone came rushing out of the room, putting on their coats and practically running out the door. Penelope came to sit with you, her eyes wide and full of hope. “They found where he is. They’re going to him now.” She hugged you tightly. “He’s going to be okay.”

Tears leaked out of your eyes again. This time they were happy tears. The immense rush of relief you felt was enough to render you speechless for a while, until you finally choked out, “They’re going to call us when he’s safe?” She nodded eagerly and you let out a huge sigh of relief.

The wait felt like forever. You were still nervous. What if they don’t get to him in time? What if they’re just barely too late?

Finally, finally Penelope’s phone rang. She answered quickly, nodding at what she was hearing. Eventually she hung up and looked at you, smiling. “He’s with them now. The unsub is dead. They’re rushing an ambulance but his injuries seem minor considering… what’s been happening.”

You closed your eyes and took another big sigh of relief. “I’m going to meet the ambulance there,” you declared.

Penelope looked at you quizzically. “I don’t know if-“

“You said the unsub is dead,” you cut her off. “There’s no more danger. I’m going to him.” You saw keys to one of the FBI vehicles that was left over since they had multiple people to a van. You picked them up and tossed them to Penelope. “You know their coordinates. You drive.”

She caught the keys and nodded at you, unable to argue with your logic. You both rushed out to the van and sped over to the location.

You saw the ambulance as you arrived there. You barely waited for Penelope to put the car in park before you were running out the door to where the ambulance had parked.

You saw Spencer sitting at the edge of the back of the ambulance with a first aid blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He was beaten up, but he was still conscious and alert. You were relieved his injuries weren’t worse.

“Spencer!” you shouted as you ran towards him. He looked your way, his eyes widening as he saw you.

You threw your arms around his shoulders when you reached him. His shock quickly turned to something softer as he relaxed into your arms, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You nestled your face into his neck for a few moments, unable to stop your sobs of joy. “Oh, sweetie…” you cooed into his ear.

He moved so his forehead was touching yours. Tears were streaking down his face. “I’m sorry…” he started.

You shook your head vigorously. “No apologies. You’re okay now.” You kissed him on the forehead gently and threaded your fingers in his hair “Everything’s going to be okay.”

He nodded and tightened his grip on you, kissing you firmly. He kissed you for a long time before finally pulling away, resting his forehead on yours. “I love you,” he whispered.

You smiled warmly, whispering back to him. “I love you, too.”

You stayed like that for a few moments before everyone started pushing Spencer to get in the ambulance so he could go to the hospital. You rode with him, of course. You held his hand the whole way there.

He wasn’t in the hospital for too long. They were able to treat his wounds relatively easily. The team waited in the waiting room while you followed him into the examination room.

When you came back to the waiting room, hand in hand, everyone rushed to greet you before you all headed to the jet.

You sat in the corner of the couch to the side of the other seats, motioning for Spencer to lay his head in your lap. He followed eagerly, curling up on his side and nestling his head in your lap.

You ran your fingers through his curls as he began to fall asleep. He must’ve been exhausted. You couldn’t imagine him sleeping during any of that.

You stayed like that the whole ride home, him asleep and you petting his hair softly.

You gently woke him up when you landed. “C’mon, baby. We’re going home.”

He sat up and rubbed his eyes. You kissed his cheek before standing up, taking his hand as you went to the parking lot. He obviously wasn’t in any condition to drive, so he handed you the keys to his car and let you drive home. You insisted on stopping and getting some food on the way back. He said he didn’t feel hungry, but once he started eating, it seemed like he’d never stop. He must’ve been starving.

When you walked into your apartment, he grabbed you and hugged you tightly to his chest. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, relaxing into him.

“I missed you so much.” He was crying again, sniffling softly. “I thought about you every waking moment. I knew I had to make it through because you were waiting for me.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead, closing his eyes and savoring the moment.

“I missed you too,” you said quietly, looking into his eyes with a soft expression. “I knew you were going to make it back.” You hugged him tight again. “I didn’t see everything. The team… made sure I didn’t see anything that was going to hurt me.”

He nodded, leaning down to stroke your cheek gently with his thumb. “I’m glad you didn’t have to see me like that.” He touched his forehead to yours. “What matters now is that I’m here with you.” He kissed you slowly, pushing your hair out of your face.

You kissed for a long time, slowly making your way to your bedroom. You smiled up at him after a while. “As much as I would love to continue this…” You gestured to the bed. “You need to sleep.”

As if to prove your point, he let out a quiet yawn. You smiled as he sat down at the edge of the bed. You grabbed his pajamas from the drawer and helped him get changed and settled into bed.

He lay his head on your chest and you stroked his hair gently, just like you did the whole way home. “Go to sleep, baby,” you whispered as his eyes closed. After a moment you heard his breathing slow as he fell asleep.

“Goodnight,” you whispered, kissing the top of his head before relaxing to fall asleep yourself.

…

After that night, things got… bad.

Spencer wasn’t acting like himself anymore. He was… distant. Cold. He had never acted this way towards you before. Or anyone, for that matter.

You had never had a problem with intimacy before, but suddenly he refused to touch you. Any time you would reach for his hand, or try to put your arm around him, he’d just shrug you off of him and move away from you. It always ended in you mumbling an apology and putting some space between you.

He never explained why he didn’t want you to touch him. In fact, he didn’t talk a whole lot anymore. You often sat in silence, completely apart from each other. You always used to be able to count on him to fill these silences, but now he just stayed quiet.

When he did talk, he was a lot more cold to you than he used to be. You had never fought before, but now it felt like any time he talked it was to argue with you about something. It felt like he was always angry lately.

He didn’t even like to sleep in the same bed as you anymore. Most nights, if not every night, he slept on the couch. You started begging him, telling him that you would never cross over your side of the bed, but he shrugged you off saying he just needed to be alone.

All of this was really taking a toll on you. You tried not to show it, because you knew he was going through a hard time, so you only let your feelings out in places you could be alone. Which meant you spent a lot of time crying in the bathroom.

This went on for months. You thought that, surely, he had to tell you what was going on eventually. He had never hidden anything from you before, so you didn’t really know what to do, or how to handle this. You didn’t want to push him into talking about things he didn’t want to talk about, but something was very clearly wrong.

After a particularly bad argument one night, you couldn’t take it anymore. You had to go to someone about this. For Spencer’s sake.

The next morning, you set an extra early alarm, quietly getting dressed and tiptoeing past Spencer, who was asleep on the couch, and silently leaving your apartment.

As you got in your car and started driving, you started arguing with yourself in your head. Part of your brain was trying to say that this wasn’t going to help, and that this was just like being a little kid and tattling to a teacher. But the emotional part of your brain was saying that just telling anyone would be able to help Spencer. And that little shred of hope was all it took to convince you to do this.

You shoved open the doors to the BAU, hoping that Spencer’s stories about his boss barely leaving his office were true. When you looked around, you saw an office with a light on, making you breathe a sigh of relief.

You bound up the stairs, knocking on the office door, a little more forcefully than you had intended. Hopefully it would help get your emotions across.

“Come in,” a familiar voice ordered.

You took a deep breath before opening the door, seeing Hotch sitting at his desk with a bunch of paperwork in front of him. You wondered just how much paperwork this job required, and if he was always here hours before everyone else.

He looked surprised to see you. He would probably be surprised to see anyone at this early hour, but considering you don’t even work for him, he probably wouldn’t have even considered the possibility of you coming here. “Is there something I can help you with?” He asked.

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. You didn’t really think this far; you just figured that surely someone who works so closely with Spencer had to know something, especially since he was a profiler.

You thought about everything that had happened in the last few months, trying to find the right words to properly articulate your concerns. But all the thoughts about Spencer pushing you away and refusing your affection, mixed with remembering what your relationship was like before that fateful night of his abduction, overwhelmed your mind so much that you just couldn’t stop your emotions flowing out. Tears welled in your eyes before starting to streak down your face. Here you were, in Hotch’s office, completely unannounced and uninvited, and you were just standing there crying.

After a few moments of crying, and of Hotch looking very concerned at this scene playing out before him, you decided it didn’t matter that you couldn’t form the perfect words. You just needed to say something.

Through choked sobs, you finally managed to blurt out, “What’s wrong with Spencer?”

Hotch looked at you, his expression as unreadable as always. “What do you mean?”

You took a deep breath, too emotional to think about how you shouldn’t be saying all of this to your boyfriend’s boss. The words just started coming out in a rush. “Something’s wrong. We had never had a single argument before, and now the only time he ever talks to me is to pick a fight. He’s never present, he barely speaks, which I’m sure I don’t have to tell you is very strange behavior for Spencer. He never smiles anymore, he won’t let me touch him anymore, he won’t sleep in our bed anymore, he only sleeps on the couch…”

You covered your eyes with your hands, trying to stop the tears from coming out. Finally, after some shaky breaths, you finished by saying, “I just wanted to know if there’s anything you could tell me about this. If you know why he’s acting this way. If there’s something he’s not telling me.”

Hotch hesitated before gesturing to a chair in front of his desk. “Do you want to take a seat?”

You looked at the chair, and you noticed you were shaking. You nodded, and sat down in the chair, trying to calm down. But you couldn’t help being extremely restless, your leg bouncing rapidly while you sat.

Hotch leaned forward, moving some paperwork out of the way and placing his hands on his desk. His expression was slightly softened. “Working in this field, you go through a lot of traumatic things. Reid’s abduction was one of the worst things an agent can go through.” His voice was low and steady, which was a welcome contrast to how frantic your own words had come out. “Anyone would struggle after that.”

You sighed. “I know, but-”

He raised his hand to cut you off. “That being said, we’ve all been able to tell that Reid has been a little off.” He saw you raise your eyebrow and added, “Okay, a lot off.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “We have some… theories, but we can’t know for sure what’s happening with him unless he tells us. And since he’s already struggling, we didn’t want to make it worse, especially since he’s technically just a subordinate or coworker. But if he’s not telling you either…” He looked at you sympathetically. “I’ll try to talk to him.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “... Thank you. Thank you so much. I’m so sorry I came here out of the blue.” You stood up, taking a step forward as if you were going to hug him, but for once your rational thoughts took over and you stayed where you were.

He stood up after you. “You’re welcome. It couldn’t have been easy to come here and talk about this.” He reached out to shake your hand, and when you shook his hand back he put his other hand over yours and spoke softly to you. “I’m going to try to get through to him. I promise.”

His gentle hands and soft-spoken words were enough to reassure you, at least for now. You nodded, thanking him again before leaving his office. You were able to leave with a lot more composure than you came here with.

It was getting late by the time you left Hotch’s office, and there were a lot more people here now. As you came down the stairs, you looked up to see Spencer staring at you. He wasn’t angry, thankfully, but he looked… kind of dumbfounded. Which made sense. You had no reason to be here at all, let alone a reason to be talking to his boss.

As you walked towards him to get to the door to leave, he turned to you. “Hey…” he started, his voice soft.

You didn’t know what to say, his soft voice sounding nothing like what you’ve been hearing these past few months. So you just kind of waved to him awkwardly, pointing to your watch to indicate that you had to get to work, and you left the BAU.

When you got back in your car, you took a few minutes to process everything that had happened. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to convince yourself that everything was okay. You believed Hotch when he said he’d help. It felt like Spencer was in capable hands.

…

Later that day, you had been in the bathroom when Spencer came home, and you didn’t hear the door open and close. When you came out, you saw him standing awkwardly in the front of your apartment. It made you jump a little bit. “Hi… I didn’t know you were home,” you muttered awkwardly.

He stood there looking at you, his eyes moving a little as if he was thinking of what to say. After a few moments, instead of saying anything, he walked over to you and hugged you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.

You just froze for a moment, not sure how to react. But he kept his tight hold on you, as if you were the only thing keeping him up right now, and you finally started to hug him back just as tightly. You both just stood like that for a few minutes, holding each other.

Finally, he spoke up. His voice was soft, barely a whisper, and he sounded so fragile. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He was starting to cry now, making soft sobbing sounds into your shoulder.

Hearing him cry broke something in you, and shortly you were also in tears. “Oh, Spence…” You squeezed him a little tighter, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “It’s okay…”

He sniffled and shook his head, pulling back a little so he could look you in the eyes. “My behavior has been abhorrent lately. I’ve been struggling, and I’ve been bottling everything up. I didn’t realize just how much this was hurting you.” He took a deep breath, trying to keep up with his thoughts. “I guess I figured, if I didn’t tell you about my problems, then they couldn’t affect you. But I was wrong. It just made it worse.”

You looked at him sadly, one of your hands moving to gently stroke his hair. “You can always come to me with anything. I’ll always try to help you. You know that.”

Some more tears started falling down his cheeks, and you started to wipe them away with your thumb. “I guess I felt like… I didn’t deserve the help.” He took a few shaky breaths as he tried to calm down. “Like I didn’t deserve you being so nice to me.”

“Spencer…” you started, trying to make your voice sound as soothing as possible. “What’s wrong? What’s so bad that you can’t tell me?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. “I… I don’t know if I can talk about it yet. But I promise I’ll tell you soon.” He looked at you determinedly. “Until then, I promise I’m going to try to be better to you.” As if to prove his point, he grabbed your face and captured your lips in a soft kiss, making your heart flutter.

After years of dating, you didn’t think you’d feel that flustered, shy feeling of butterflies in your stomach again. But, after these past few months of having no physical contact, this kiss almost felt like it was your first kiss all over again.

You couldn’t help but hold the back of his head to try to bring his face even closer to yours. You were craving his touch, and you needed his affection. On the off chance that this was a one-time thing, and that he would start to distance himself again after this, you figured you had to make it last.

He showed no signs of letting up, though, moving you both so you were laying on the couch, with him hovering over you. His lips never left yours the whole time, and his hands were moving around your face as if he was trying to remember what it felt like.

He broke the kiss to look at you, before closing his eyes. His hands trailed from your face down to your neck, moving slightly under your shirt to your shoulders. He wasn’t just touching you, he was feeling you. As if feeling your skin would jog his memory of you. His breathing was soft and even as his hands moved down to your hips, his fingers gentle and slow on your waist as he started to lift your shirt up.

Your breath hitched when you felt cold air suddenly hit your stomach. “Spence…” you spoke quietly, a soft blush on your face.

He looked at you, his voice quick and reassuring. “I don’t want to do anything like… that. It would be a little too much for me right now.” He quickly flashed you that awkward little smile he had sometimes. “I just want to see you, to feel you.” His voice went a little quieter when he added, “I missed you.”

You looked at him sadly, reaching up to touch his face. “I missed you, too.” You leaned in to kiss him again. “I missed you so much.”

The soft, slow kissing resumed, and Spencer very carefully pulled your shirt over your head, his hands gently gliding over the newly exposed skin. You let out a dreamy sigh. You hadn’t realized just how touch starved you had been over these past few months. This is exactly what you had been needing.

You just stayed on the couch like that for a while, his lips and hands on you, the gentlest of touches. After a little while longer, you started to unbutton his shirt, because you wanted to do the same to him.

He completely froze, sucking in a breath. You immediately pulled your hands away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” You trailed off, worried that you just ruined any progress that had been made tonight.

He shook his head, sitting up and pulling you up with him. “It’s okay, I just… I don’t want you to see me with my shirt off.” He looked at you with pleading eyes, as if he was begging you not to ask about it.

You hesitated, but instead of asking about it you tried to be a little more lighthearted. “I’ve seen you without a shirt plenty of times, Spencer.”

He gave you a slight smile before the worried look came back to his face. “I just…” he started, “I can’t right now. Please understand.”

You nodded, taking his hand and giving it a slight squeeze. “I understand.” You stroked his hand gently with your thumb. “I’m not going to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. You can trust me.”

He squeezed your hand back, giving you another little smile. “I know you won’t. I do trust you.” He let out a little yawn and started to rub his eyes.

You looked at the clock, not realizing how late it had gotten. “Come on, let’s go to bed.” You leaned over to kiss his forehead. “You should get some sleep.”

You worried he would still insist on sleeping on the couch, but he just nodded, his hand still tightly holding yours as you both stood up and walked to your bedroom. He grabbed his pajamas and headed to the bathroom to change.

You sat on the bed and watched him for a few moments before he closed the door. You started to get dressed yourself, wondering what this problem was about. He had been a little shy around you when you two first started getting intimate, but you thought he had gotten over that. Had these past few months apart made the shyness come back?

Your thoughts were interrupted by Spencer coming back into the room. You stood up so he could get in bed. He looked so tired; you could see just how bad the dark circles under his eyes were.

He crawled under the covers, curling up and closing his eyes. You got in the other side of the bed, gently rubbing his back to soothe him. You didn’t want to push any boundaries, so you pulled away after just a moment.

He turned around, looking at you with those big eyes of his, and grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together. He closed his eyes again, taking a deep breath, as if soothed by your touch. You smiled softly. He looked more peaceful than you had seen him in a long time. It made it easier to close your eyes and relax.

It was silent for a while, and you thought he had fallen asleep. But then, you heard him speak very softly. “I love you.”

You opened your eyes to see him looking back at you. You squeezed his hand gently. “I love you too.” You leaned in and kissed his forehead, making him smile. “Get some sleep. I can tell you need it,” you whispered.

He nodded and closed his eyes again, moving a little closer to you before wrapping his arms around you and nestling his head in your neck. You hesitated for a moment in shock before cradling him in your arms. You kissed the top of his head. “Goodnight, baby,” you whispered to him. Soon, you could hear his breathing soften, and you just listened to the quiet sounds of him sleeping for a few more moments before falling asleep yourself.

…

Things didn’t magically get better after that, but they did improve.

Spencer went back to sleeping in your bed, though he seemed to have a hard time sleeping nowadays. He was always tossing and turning, and you usually woke up in the middle of the night to either try to soothe him to sleep or to keep him company when he couldn’t sleep.

There was a lot more talking, and a lot less fighting. You could have more comfortable conversations, and he would politely tell you when he didn’t feel like talking. It was a lot better than him yelling at you to leave him alone.

There was still some arguing, but usually only when you were trying to get him to eat. He was always saying he wasn’t hungry, and you had to try to push to get him to eat, saying he needed some kind of nutrition. Sometimes he would snap at you, saying he would eat if he was hungry and that he didn’t push you when you didn’t want to eat. He’d always apologize, though, and try his best to explain that he was either feeling nauseous or he just didn’t have much of an appetite anymore. It seemed to get a little better after a few days.

He didn’t mind a little more physical contact. He wasn’t always up for it, but he didn’t seem to mind it as much. It was always trial and error, almost like trying to pet a skittish cat. You’d start by putting a gentle hand on his, and he’d tense up for a second, and he’d either pull away and explain he didn’t want to be touched, or he’d take your hand and hold it gently. A big improvement. It was just little touches: holding hands, an arm around his shoulder, a hug… it never went past that.

He didn’t talk about what it was that was bothering him at first, but you trusted that he would tell you when he was ready. After about a week, he was finally ready to talk about it.

…

You both were sitting on the couch, in one of your quiet moments. You were reading a book, like you usually did when Spencer felt like being quiet. The silences were starting to get more comfortable, making it easier to just do quiet activities next to each other.

After a few minutes, Spencer cleared his throat, making you look over at him. You bookmarked the page you were on and turned to him. “What is it?”

He hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure how to start this conversation. He closed his eyes for a moment to put his thoughts together, before opening them again to look at you. He spoke very softly.

“When I was…” he started, swallowing and taking a deep breath to compose himself before continuing, “... When I was abducted for those few days back in February, a lot happened. The man who took me had dissociative identity disorder, and dealing with all his personalities was difficult. But there was one of his personalities that was… nicer than the others. More helpful than harmful.” He closed his eyes again, and you knew this was really hard for him to talk about. You placed a gentle hand over his, and he let out a breath, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze. He continued on, his voice still soft and sad.

“Unfortunately, one of the ways that he helped me was to… give me something to help numb the pain the others were causing.” He closed his eyes again, and he slowly rolled up his sleeves for you to see his arms.

You stared in shock. His arms were covered in needle marks. You covered your mouth. “Oh, Spencer…” You looked back up at his face, but his eyes were squeezed shut, as if he didn’t want to face this. You squeezed his hand to let him know you were here to support him.

“He would come to me saying Dilaudid helped with the pain, and after a few times, it started to feel… good.” He took another deep breath, his eyes still closed. “After he died, I took the bottles he still had. And when things started getting hard to handle… all the flashbacks and memories of what happened to me, I just needed to numb myself. And it worked, for a while. But eventually, I just… couldn’t stop.”

“Spencer…” you started, your voice gentle. “You could’ve come to me, I could’ve tried to help you-”

“I didn’t want that,” he cut you off. “I tried to convince myself that what I was doing wasn’t wrong. That it was just medicine that was helping me. But, obviously, I knew that wasn’t the truth. And I knew that if I told anyone about it, they would say I needed help. But I didn’t want help. I just wanted to live in this unrealistic world where everything I was doing was fine.” He finally opened his eyes to look at you. “That’s why I was lashing out. I didn’t want anyone to help me, and I also felt like I didn’t deserve anyone being nice to me.”

He looked at you very seriously. “I thought, if I didn’t tell you any of this, it couldn’t hurt you. I know how sensitive you are to other people’s emotions and problems, so I figured if I didn’t tell you, you couldn’t worry about me. Obviously, I was wrong, and that was a naive way of thinking.” He reached out and gently touched your face. “When I saw you at the BAU, I knew it was because you were worried about me, and I saw that you looked like you had been crying. And it just snapped me out of this false reality I had created for myself. And that’s when I came home and apologized, because I knew I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t keep hurting you.”

You listened to him silently while he talked, letting him get out everything he needed to say before responding. “Why didn’t you tell me that day? Or the few days after that? Why did you wait until now?”

He nodded as if he was waiting for this question. “I read that withdrawal symptoms peak within 12-48 hours, and that it usually takes 5-7 days for the symptoms to resolve. So I wanted to wait out those 7 days just to make sure.”

You gave him a sad look. “But if I knew you were having withdrawal symptoms, I could have helped you. I really wish you would have told me.”

He sighed. “I wanted to do it on my own. To prove to myself that I could do it. That I wasn’t just going to quit halfway through and relapse.”

You nodded sympathetically. “Well, I’m really glad you told me now. We can get through this together.” You gave his hand a little pat. “You know this isn’t the end of it, right? It’s not just over when withdrawal symptoms stop. You still need to work out these issues that made you start this in the first place.”

He nodded. “I know. I want to try to get help now. I… I think I’m ready. I want to look into going to therapy, and maybe some support groups if I need them.” He squeezed your hand again. “I know I can make it through this, because I know you’ll be by my side.”

You smiled softly at him. “I’ll always be by your side.” Your hand trailed up his arms, looking back at the needle marks. “Do they… hurt?” you asked softly.

He shrugged. “Only when they first appear. They don’t hurt right now.”

You nodded, and you gently touched the marks on his arm. You looked at him, and you slowly brought his arm up so you could give every little mark a gentle kiss, to let him know that everything was going to get better soon.

He looked at you with big, loving eyes, and he started tearing up a bit. He pulled you in for a tight hug, sniffling as he buried his face in your neck. “I love you so much,” he said with a shaky voice.

You held him tight, rubbing his back to comfort him. “I love you too, Spence. Everything is going to be okay.” Your voice was calm and soothing. “I’m here now.”

…

Things started to get much better after that. Spencer was way more comfortable telling you when things were feeling more difficult than usual. Typically, it would be when he came home from a particularly emotional case. You were always there to hold him and to soothe him. There was no more aversion to your touch or need for extended silences. He felt comfortable in your arms, and he knew he could talk to you when something was bothering him.

He started seeing a therapist, and you always went there with him. Usually, you just sat outside the office for his sessions so he could have the one-on-one help he needed. Sometimes, if he was having a particularly rough week, he would bring you in with him for extra support. And you were always there when he needed you.

It took a bit of time, but you learned how to help with whatever he needed you for. If he needed a distraction, you could always come up with some activity to get his mind off of things. You played a lot of board games, and started learning to bake so you could just pull out a new recipe to try and he could focus on getting everything just right. When he just needed someone to listen to him, or a shoulder to cry on, you didn’t mind being that person for him. And sometimes he just wanted to be held, saying that the physical touch grounded him. You were always happy to hold him.

Over time, things got easier and easier to deal with. Eventually, things seemed to be fully back to normal. You both knew that this was always going to be a struggle that could come back, but you knew how to handle it now, and you were certain that you could get through any struggle that ever tried to get in your way.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x male!reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfiction #mod angel

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neo-nomatrix · 1 year

Text

Heart to Heart

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You’ve been traveling with Henry and Sam for over a year now. Once you meet Joel and Ellie your entire world changes.

Warnings: Age gap (joel is 56 reader is 26) Spoilers for TLOU episode 5!! Angst bro.

a/n: this episode tore me apart. Italics is ASL. Bold and italics is not.

word count: 998

4 months. It had been 4 months since you laughed. Not the kind of laugh just to convince Sam that everything was gonna be okay. But an actual laugh. The kind you gasp for air, your eyes shut and your stomach and face hurt after. At some point you wish to feel that again. The unexplainable happiness that stays with you forever.

You met Joel and Ellie only a day ago. Ellie was sweet, she was innocent. Ellie was the perfect friend for Sam, she made him laugh in a way you couldn’t. It made you happy, so so happy. Joel was different. He has a deep rugged voice with a Texan accent, you remember after hearing it looking over at Henry and saying “He’s strong. He can protect us. Plus, he’s pretty hot,” earning a laugh from Henry.

You’ve finally gotten away from Kathleen; well less gotten away and more she got infected. You’ve been in an abandoned Motel for only an hour when Joel sat next to you.

“So…he’s your what? Your boyfriend?” Joel asked, his voice not sounding confident at all.

“Who? Henry? No. Wait, Sam or Henry?” You ask quickly with a slight smile.

You see Joel roll his eyes and look the other way. You also hear a laugh, his laugh.

“I got you motherfucker! I made you laugh!” You hit his arm lightly laughing with him.

“Whatever,” he tells you.

“I don’t mean to get all sappy but it’s been a while since I laughed. Like actually laughed,” You admit to Joel.

“Yeah, Yeah me too.”

“There’s a uhm, amusement park not too far from here. It’s kind of a reminder to me that it’s not all that bad here,” you mention to him, smiling to yourself.

“You’re old enough to remember amusement parks?” He asks skeptically.

“Kind of, I was 6 when the outbreak happened. Mainly remember stuff like that from movies or whatever.” You look down at your feet while saying this.

Joel stays silent but his eyes keep on you.

“Hey Joel. Look I don't care if you like us or not but please promise me you’ll keep us safe? I can’t lose anyone else.”

He leans closer to you, taking your head in his hand and placing it on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to worry anymore, okay? I’m gonna protect you.”

You both pause for a minute before Joel speaks up again.

“Me and Ellie, we’re going down to Wyoming to find my brother. If you wanted to go with us, you’re uhm, more than welcome to,” he says hesitantly.

“I would like that. I’d really like that. I’ll ask them about it tomorrow,” you respond smiling wildly

“Y’know, Sam really likes you. It’s been a while since I've seen him this happy,” You tell Ellie while you get them situated for bed.

“Yeah, and Joel likes you,” She says back.

“Oh, I don’t know about that.”

“It’s true! You really don’t see the way he looks at you?” She says back, causing you to smile.

You spent the whole night snuggled up next to Joel, feeling his warm breath on your neck. He kept a steady grip on your waist almost as if he was scared you’d run while he was asleep.

You woke up to a scream. Ellie’s scream. Sun is peeking out of the window. The door beside you slams open with Sam lunging at Ellie. Ellie is trying to kick Sam off of her but it’s useless. Joel reaches for the gun but Henry is quicker. Henry points it at Joel as Ellie screams.

“Joel! Help!”

As Joel tries to reach out to Ellie Henry shoots the gun next to his foot.

You’re still in shock trying to not shake. You slowly back up onto the wall as Henry holds the gun to Joel. In an Instant Henry Moves the gun to Ellie and Sam.

BANG

The gun goes off and a splatter of blood decorates the dirty wall. Sams blood. Everyone is silent until Henry moves the gun back to Joel.

“Henry, give me the gun,” Joel commands slowly.

“What did I do?” Henry speaks up softly.

“What did I do? What did I do?,” he repeats over and over again.

He faces Sams cold, still body. The only thing moving being the pool of blood.

Your fully sat against the wall, your hand cupping your mouth holding back sobs.

You’re silent until Henry points the gun to his temple and it goes off.

BANG

For the second time in this room. For the second time in the last minute. For the second time the same gun goes off. Killing the last people you had.

A loud croaky scream, almost shriek, rips out of your mouth. You fall forward to your knees, tears now streaming down your face as you sob

NO, NO, NO. PLEASE

This can’t be happening. One minute ago both of them were alive. One minute ago you dreamt of traveling with the four of them. All of it. Gone.

Joel shovels dirt over the two bodies as you sit next to the “graves.” Tears still run down your face as Ellie places Sams writing board on the ground.

I’M SORRY

The words etched into the plastic lay there.

“C’mon,” Joel says as he reaches a hand out to you. It takes all the strength you have at the moment to get you away from the dirt, from the bodies. Joel's hand stays on your back guiding you to catch up with Ellie. You don’t look back. You’re afraid that if you look back you won’t want to look forward ever again.

It had been four months since laughing made your chest hurt. Four months since laughing made your face hurt. It wasn’t laughing that caused you this unexplainable feeling, it was the very much explainable feeling of guilt and death. And you wish you never have to feel like this ever again.

#joel the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel the last of us x reader #joel miller angst #TLOU #tlou x reader #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you

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sidekick-hero · 3 months

Text

Carry you

When Eddie opens his eyes, he has no idea where he is.

That should probably scare him, but the only thing he can think in that moment between blissful nothingness and cold, hard reality is "the bathroom at the party looked different." Because he is in a bathroom, that much he can say. There are white tiles everywhere and a roll of toilet paper in front of him and... is that a plastic handrail?

Lifting his head is a Herculean effort, but somehow he manages to do it, even though it makes his stomach turn.

In front of him is a freestanding shower and a bathtub with stairs to get into. The bathroom is huge and sterile, smelling of disinfectant.

As more and more of his senses come back online, Eddie notices several things at once:

#1 He's wearing what can barely be called a gown, cold air hitting his exposed skin everywhere. His back, his legs, hell, even his junk gets more of a breeze than he likes.

#2 He's nauseous, his stomach rolls uncomfortably, and his head is killing him, a sharp pain that's increasing in intensity by the second.

#3 He knows that something is definitely very, very wrong and he can feel the anxiety rising like bile in his throat.

It's that last realization that triggers his fight or flight response and in seconds he's off the toilet he's sitting on, the sudden movement sending him stumbling, his legs wobbling and his head spinning. Everything hurts and he feels so weak. He catches himself on the railing next to the toilet and figures that's what it's there for. Although he has no idea what kind of person would have such a strange bathroom. The last one he was in, at Tim's or Tom's or Terry's party, something with a T, for sure, the tiles had been black and there had been a lot of bamboo furniture and gold accents. It had smelled nice too, vanilla and cinnamon.

He staggers to a door that hopefully leads out of this fucking nightmare. Maybe Gareth or Freak are behind this, to teach Eddie a lesson for ditching them again to go partying when they had to pack up their shit after the show. But not Jeff, he's too nice to do something like that. The next morning, when Eddie arrives with a hangover the size of his ego, to quote Gareth, Jeff will only look at him with disappointment.

Or maybe they just don't care enough about him anymore to pull a prank on him. Eddie can't remember the last time they even talked to him, beyond discussing the bare minimum for their shows.

Leaving the bathroom, he carefully walks down a long hallway with the ugliest yellow linoleum Eddie has ever seen. It hurts his eyes and his stomach gives another unpleasant churning. On his right, he sees a glass door with "Intermediate Care Unit" written in big white letters.

What the fuck?

He turns right and continues down the hall, hoping to find someone who can tell him where he is and why his body feels like it's been hit with a sledgehammer. Repeatedly.

"Mr. Munson, you shouldn't be out of bed," a stern voice calls from behind him, and when he turns around he sees a middle-aged woman in white scrubs looking at him with a stern expression on her face.

Feeling more and more like he has landed in an episode of The Twilight Zone, Eddie looks at her with an incredulous look on his face. "Who are you? And where is everyone?"

She scoffs at his answer, clearly not pleased.

"I am the nurse responsible for getting you well enough to leave this ward as soon as possible, and you would make my job a lot easier if you would go back to your bed." Before he can process the meaning of her words, she continues. "As for everyone else, well, no one else overdosed, so I would assume they're all home by now."

Eddie can only stare at her open-mouthed, disbelief and horror probably written all over his face, because her own face is softening slightly.

"Now come on, let's get you back to bed, you really shouldn't be wandering around."

She gently takes his elbow and leads him to a door with the number 719 on it. As she opens it for him, Eddie sees three beds inside. To the left and right, he sees two old men, both looking directly at him. The one on the right says, "We tried to stop him, Nurse Elli, we really did," in a high, nasal voice that is already getting on Eddie's nerves. "The kid wouldn't listen to us, would he, Harry?"

"Exactly," Harry answered, at least in a deeper, more bearable tone.

Ignoring the geriatric Ernie and Bert, Nurse Elli leads him to the bed in the middle and helps him to lie down again. Only then does Eddie remember that all he's wearing is a thin hospital gown with an open back. Well, he thinks, Nurse Elli has seen worse in her profession than his pale, scrawny ass. Besides, it's not like much of his modesty has survived the last two years of sex, drugs and rock'n'roll that have been his life.

By the time he's back under the covers, his nurse has turned around and is walking back over to the door. A bone-deep exhaustion has begun to seep into his body, slowly dragging him back under, but seeing her walk out of the room gives him a burst of energy.

"Wait! Someone needs to tell me what happened. What am I doing here?"

Embarrassment burns hot under his skin as he hears the tears in his voice, but the sound of it breaking at his question makes Nurse Elli stop. She turns back to him and her eyes are much kinder than before.

"The doctor will be with you shortly. He'll explain everything to you, Mr. Munson. I'll let him know you're awake now."

And then she leaves, and Eddie sinks back into his bed in the hope that the next time he opens his eyes, it will all have been just a bad dream.

It was not all just a bad dream.

The next time Eddie comes to, he's alone in his room, except for a middle-aged man who seems to be the doctor Nurse Elli told him would be stopping by.

Doctor Owens explains that he overdosed on alcohol and coke at a party at some music producer's house and had been in a coma for two full days. They quickly stabilized him, pumped his stomach and gave him fluids through an IV. Eddie is lucky he's still young and his system recovered from the shock quite well. When he showed signs of waking up, they brought him down here from the ICU to free up his bed for someone who needed it more.

"If Mr. Harrington hadn't called 911 and told them to come get you, you'd be dead right now, Mr. Munson. I'm sorry to say this, but from what I've heard, no one at the party even cared, just insisted that you brought your own drugs and they had nothing to do with it. Mr. Harrington has also been your only visitor so far."

His words should make him angry or sad, something, but he can't process them. Not when his brain is still struggling to make sense of the first part of his statement, Eddie’s heart racing in his chest.

"Mr. Harrington? As in..."

"Steve Harrington, he says he's a close friend. He's the one who called the ambulance, gave the operator your cell phone number so they could track your phone and get you to the hospital. He's been visiting you every day since. He also called your uncle, because we are not allowed to give out any medical information to anyone outside of the family. Your uncle should be here soon, I called him yesterday to give him an update on your condition."

His mind is reeling, too many thoughts fighting for dominance and one word screaming louder than any of them in his head.

Steve, Steve, Steve.

How... it couldn't be. Not after their last fight. Not after the things he said to Steve. To his horror, he feels tears burning hot in his eyes at the memory. A memory he had pushed as far back in his mind as he could because every time he thought about that night he wanted to curl up into a fetal position and cry.

"You are a lucky man, Mr. Munson. This man seems to care a lot about you, as does your uncle. You should let them help you. And if you will allow me to be very clear with you: You need all the help you can get. You're young, so your body can take a lot. But it's not in good shape. You have an old man's liver, and your spleen and kidneys are showing signs of the abuse you put them through. The echo also showed some irregularities in your heartbeat. If you continue down the path you're on, your organs will fail and you will die, Mr. Munson. Painfully. So my advice to you is to get clean as soon as possible. We have some facilities we work with, a nurse will bring you some brochures."

Eddie could only nod numbly, tears now falling freely from his eyes, his throat tight and his head aching. Everything hurt. Especially his heart.

"Okay, we'll keep you here for two more days until we're sure you're stable enough to be on your own." Doctor Owens tells him, turning to leave and get on with his day, as if he hadn't just dropped a damn bomb on his head. He pauses at the door and turns back to him.

"And a word of advice from someone twice your age who's seen a lot in his time here: stick with people who really care about you, like Mr. Harrington, instead of spending your time with people who leave you lying in a bathroom in your own vomit."

With that, he steps out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him and leaving Eddie alone with his thoughts.

Eddie doesn't know how long it's been since Dr. Owens left. It could have been hours, days, weeks, for all he knows, too deep inside his own head to spare any thought for the passing of time. Lying in a hospital bed, the nausea and pain raging through his battered body, Eddie finally breaks down and lets the thoughts come.

He's lost in his memories, thinking about everything that led him here, alone and in pain in a hospital bed, after nearly killing himself with things he swore he'd never use. Weed was fine, though he didn't indulge much anyway, preferring to sell it and make some much-needed money than to smoke it himself. But coke? Nah, he knew how epically stupid it would be to even try that shit.

And yet he did.

A party to celebrate the release of their first single. One lapse in judgment while flying so fucking high that nothing could touch him. One bad decision was all it took for him to succumb to the effects of the white powder.

The high he felt after snorting his first line had been magical and he's been chasing that feeling ever since, blind to all he's sacrificed in the process.

It changed him, he knows. Every euphoric high that made him talk a mile a minute, overly affectionate, loud and brash and in love with the whole world would inevitably end in a crash. He became irritable and hostile toward the people he loved, thinking they were out to get him. Whenever his friends or Wayne or Steve so much as looked at him the wrong way about his new habit, he would lash out at them.

He became increasingly angry and accused them of trying to control him, of envying him his success and happiness.

That's when he started drinking, too. He drank himself stupid so that he wouldn't have to think about the way Steve was starting to look at him as if he didn't even know him anymore. To forget the sad look in Wayne's eyes or the way his friends had started to avoid him. When he was drunk out of his mind, he could forget the way the Coffin boys had started talking about him behind his back, could ignore the murderous looks Robin kept sending his way.

Thinking back, Eddie felt like everything had spun out of his control so fast.

It's like one day he comes home to Steve, ecstatic about signing their first record deal and celebrating the start of a new chapter with the love of his life by dancing around their living room barefoot, laughing and kissing each other, promising happiness and forever.

Only to throw that love right back in Steve's face the next day by calling him needy, clingy, and full of bullshit.

He claimed that Steve was holding him back and that Steve didn't love him, that he just didn't want to be alone. He also said that Steve still thought he was better than Eddie, better than the town freak, the fuck-up, the trailer trash.

You don't want me to succeed and finally step out of your perfect shadow, because then what would stop me from leaving you, right?

Eddie regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth. Secretly, he had always feared that his success would cause a rift in his relationship with Steve. Eddie had no desire to leave Steve, because Steve was still the best goddamn thing that ever happened to him, but he couldn't help but feel that he was losing him anyway. Even more so when he had seen Steve's face crumble, when he had seen the exact moment when his heart had broken into a million pieces.

He had wanted to take Steve in his arms and apologize for saying cruel things he didn't even believe. It had been his own insecurities that had caused him to lash out, and he had hurt Steve before he had a chance to be hurt himself.

Instead, in true Munson fashion, he had run away and hasn't seen or heard from Steve in six long months that have felt like years.

Steve looks almost exactly the same as he did the last time Eddie saw him.

That's not a good thing, though. Because Steve had been driving himself crazy with worry about Eddie for months before Eddie had taken Steve's heart and torn it apart right in front of him.

Back then he had the same dark circles under his eyes that he has now. The usually golden skin is still too pale and Steve's trademark hair looks even more disheveled from how often he's run his hands through it. His well-fitting jeans, which once hugged his ass just right, now sit baggy on his too-slim frame and Eddie hates it.

He hates that Eddie could still hurt Steve even after he left. That even from a distance he managed to ruin the only person who ever really loved him besides Wayne. There should be some kind of warning sign on him: Beware, do not get attached, will hurt you.

"You're awake," are the first words out of Steve's mouth, and despite everything, Eddie can't stop his heart from responding to the sound of his sweet voice. Steve sounds tired, weary, but to Eddie's ears his voice is better than any Metallica song could ever be.

He tries to smile at him, but he feels as tired as Steve sounds, so it lacks the usual spark.

"Sure am. From what I heard, I have you to thank for that," Eddie adds, unable to help himself. He still doesn't know why and especially how Steve knew he needed help. If this were a Nicholas Sparks novel, their love would have created an invisible bond that made Steve feel when Eddie needed help.

But this is real life, and no matter how much he loves Steve, there is no invisible bond holding them together. Just an unbridgeable chasm.

Steve is still hovering at the door and Eddie thinks he is fighting the urge to wring his hands. Eddie knows his tells by now and he figures Steve isn't sure he's welcome here. Which is ridiculous, because even at his worst, Eddie will always want Steve around, no matter what crap Eddie tells him.

It takes a lot of effort, but Eddie manages to sit up and lean out of bed to pat the chair next to his bed, his eyes never leaving Steve.

Eddie sees Steve's shoulders slump, some of the tension visibly draining from his body at the gesture, and Steve walks over to him and sits down tentatively.

"So..." Eddie begins, dragging out the 'o'. "What happened?"

Steve looks up from his hands in his lap, obviously surprised by the question. "You don't remember?"

"No. The last thing I remember is sitting on a leather couch with a bunch of people I don't know and don't care about, fooling myself into thinking I was having fun." Eddie has had plenty of time to think about his life and where he went wrong, so he decides to stick with honesty. Steve deserves as much and more. "Someone handed me a bottle of whiskey and I opened it and started drinking straight from the bottle. That's the last thing I remember. The next thing I know, I wake up in an ugly bathroom that smells like disinfectant, my whole body hurts like I've been hit by a train, and I have no idea where I am."

Before he can bring himself to say the next part, it's Eddie who has to look away, his eyes focused on his hands playing with the edge of the blanket.

"They told me it was you who called 911 and helped them find me. They said without you I would have died lying in my own vomit." He swallows audibly, tears burning in his eyes, wondering how he could have cried more in the last ten hours than in the last ten years. "They also said you were the only one who came to see me."

Eddie forces himself to look up and into Steve's eyes as he says, "Thank you, Steve. You didn't... I don't deserve you doing this. Not after..." The words die in his throat and he feels like he's choking on them.

He can't do this. He's a fucking coward, not worth saving. Not even worth looking at someone as good and beautiful as Steve.

There's a crease between Steve's eyebrows that Eddie used to smooth with his thumb and lips every time he saw it, and his fingers itch to do it again.

"You called me," Steve tells him, his own hands playing with the edge of Eddie's blanket. "At the party. You called me from the bathroom. I thought it was a butt call or maybe drunk dialing, I hadn't heard from you in months, Eddie."

Eddie winces at his words, but Steve chooses to ignore it.

"But then you sounded so small on the phone. You called me 'Stevie' and 'sweetheart' and then you started to cry." Steve looks like he's about to cry, too. His eyes are glassy and Eddie gets lost in the way the light breaks in them, gold and brown and green all mixed together.

"You told me you weren't feeling so good, that your stomach hurt and the room was spinning so you had to lie down. Your voice -" And here Steve's own voice breaks, after it had already started to shake badly, and without thinking Eddie grabs Steve's hand and holds it tight.

"I'm here, Stevie. You saved me. I'm okay."

"But you almost weren't!" Steve insists, his voice rising, and Eddie finally understands the depth of Steve's feelings. After all these months, after everything Eddie had said and done, Steve still cared deeply for him.

"You talked like you were dying, Eddie. You weren't drunk dialing, you were calling to say goodbye, asshole. You were telling me all these things that I needed to hear you say for months. But I wanted to hear them with you in the room so I could punch you in the face and then kiss it better. Not like this. Not as your last words over a fucking phone call."

That's when Steve breaks down, the tears finally overflowing and he buries his face on the bed at Eddie's hip, their joined hands pressed against his wet cheek.

"Baby," Eddie whispers, shocked, his own heart aching worse than ever as he begins to run his fingers through Steve's messy hair. "Shhh, it's okay. I'm so, so sorry, Stevie. I never meant to hurt you, but it seems like that's all I did."

Taking a deep breath, Eddie continues. "I don't know what I told you on the phone, but since I woke up I've had time to think about it all. I don't know if I can ever make it up to you. Or to Wayne and the kids, Gareth and Jeff and Grant. If I will ever deserve your forgiveness, but I want to try. I want to deserve it one day. I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but... I will go to rehab. I will quit drugs and alcohol, I will clean up my act. And then, if you let me, I will try to make it up to you every single day for the rest of our lives."

Steve slowly lifts his head from the bed and looks at him, searching Eddie's eyes for something.

"Why?" Steve asks, his hand gripping Eddie's even tighter.

There are so many reasons, so many things Eddie wants to say, but in the end there is only one simple answer.

"Because I love you."

The smile on Steve's face tells him it's the right answer, even more so when Steve presses a kiss into his palm. But then he turns serious once more.

"I haven't forgiven you yet, Eddie. You hurt me too much and I need time. But I need you to stop trying to run away from me. I don't want you to go to rehab and clean yourself up before you come back to me. I want to be with you every step of the way. Do it together. Because if you love me, you have to let me take care of you. You have to let me in, Eddie. Let me carry you for once, like Sam carried Frodo when he couldn't go on. Trust me not to let you fall. Please."

"Did you really just make a reference to Lord of the Rings?" Eddie demands and Steve rolls his eyes.

"Is that what you get from everything I just said?"

Eddie sobers up immediately. "No, it just made me fall a little bit more in love with you, and I didn't think that was possible."

"So what do you say?" Steve asks, chewing his lip between his teeth, and Eddie suspects he's not even breathing.

"It's going to suck, Stevie," Eddie says in a quiet voice, stroking Steve's knuckles with his thumb."Are you sure?"

"Yes." No hesitation, no wavering in his voice. It's the same tone, the same determined look on his face as when he told Eddie "Fuck'em," when Eddie told him people in their small-minded town would talk if Steve held his hand in public.

"There's a bunch of brochures of places to check out. Wanna help me pick the least horrible one?" Eddie says, pointing to the table in the corner of the room.

Without another word, Steve gets up to grab them, and for the first time in a long time, Eddie allows himself to hope.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie fic #rockstar eddie munson #cw drugs #steddielovemonth #day 1 #love is letting someone take care of you #my writing

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