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#yeah I'm not proud of that one but it does crack me up

wysteria-bloom · 2 months

Text

▨ "our child is an angel"

JJK characters when called into teacher's office about their child

Characters : gojo, toji, nanami, sukuna

Genre : fluff, crack

Warnings : I use female pronouns

A/n : Toji is not a deadbeat dad in this one because yeah. Wish he was canonical a hot dilf but we can never get what we want where Gege is concerned 😟

⟢ gojo satoru ␥

"When your son was asked to wait to go to the bathroom, he replied 'I will pee on your floor then bitch.'" The teacher spoke solemnly.

Satoru immediately snorted which you gave him a death glare for, pinching his thigh harshly.

You frowned," Well, before I question why the teacher denied bathroom privileges..." you turned to your husband. Your son was pouting next to you both, looking away with narrowed eyes," That doesn't sound like him at all, does it Satoru?"

Satoru immediately agreed with you, shaking his head," N-no. Not at all. Who taught you that language, kiddo?"

His son looked at him with a betrayed expression, pointing at him accusingly "YOU did!" He exclaimed.

Satoru's smile was pained as you slowly turned your head to him, eyebrows furrowing,"... Thank you for your time, Mrs. Fiyumi. I will have a stern talking. With BOTH of them." Then you gave her the brightest smile," I think it's all the candy they've been eating, I think maybe it's time to cut down on it all, yeah?"

The teacher nodded in agreement with a knowing smile," Yes, I agree."

The two males simultaneously slouched back into their chairs with loud groans which they covered up with coughs when you glared at them.

Satoru mustered a charming grin, settling a loving hand on your shoulder," I've been meaning to go on a diet anyways, haha..."

You rolled your eyes and patted his hand with yours in a pitying way," shut up, my love."

"Dad! Grow a backbone, you lanky idiot!" Your son scoffed out disapprovingly.

The white-haired man's charming grin fell instantly and he glared beneath his glasses," shut up you-"

⟢ nanami kento ␥

"Yes, your daughter got into a fight with one of the boys and managed to split his lip." The teacher gestured to the little girl in the chair who was sitting oh so politely.

Nanami hummed lowly, brows furrowed," not good." He said with that disappointed drawl to his tone that could make anybody curl into themselves with shame, his own daughter cringing to herself.

You merely raised a brow at your daughter," That right? So she won?" You asked bluntly.

A warm hand settled on your knee, squeezing lovingly and as a warning," not the point, love." Nanami grunted out disapprovingly.

The girl grinned with her cute gap-tooth, blue eyes glinting with pride as she looked to her mother," I won!!" She chirped," he pulled my hair so I split his lip!"

Her parents stared on in silence before Nanami gave her a small smile filled with warmth," Good girl."

⟢ ryomen sukuna ␥

"Your daughter punched Midori-"

Sukuna held up a hand," Don't need to hear it. Let's go." He began to stand up, tugging his little girl by the hood of her hoodie.

You shook your head in disapproval at your husband and looked to the teacher," I'm sorry, can you give me more context?"

Sukuna scoffed," Babe. Its obviously about that rich kid again. The little shit who bullies her? Yeah. Don't give a fuck. I'm proud of my fuckin' daughter." He glared at the teacher and walked out of the room with his daughter following anxiously behind.

Your eye twitched before you stood up slowly, offering a pained smile to lighten the load," well, you heard the man. Thanks." You left as well, not before tugging on your husband's ear like a mother and giving your girl a kiss on the forehead and a promise of ice cream.

Sukuna crouched down to her level and pinched his daughter's cheek with a bored expression, eyes glinting in amusement at the sight of her nose scrunching up at the actions," Next time? Put her through endless torture and misery. I can teach you a few techniques--"

You had to step in before your husband created a potential serial killer.

⟢ fushiguro toji ␥

"Megumi got into a fight aga-"

Toji let out an obnoxiously loud yawn, wiping away the sleepy dust from his eyes as his wife fretted over their son's messy black hair.

"Ugh, I swear your hair drives me crazy, Megs. You definitely didn't get it from my genes." You muttered as you tried to smooth out the strands.

Megumi merely sighed and pushed your hands away with an uncomfortable frown etched onto his face," Mom. Listen to Mrs. Fiyumi." He scolded lightly.

"I am, I am." You whined to him, turning to face the teacher with a frown on your lips.

"You too, dad."

Toji blinked at his son before scoffing," I was, I was." He let out a fatherly grunt as he sat straight in his chair, large hand resting on your thigh as he did, looking to the teacher in boredom.

The teacher cleared her throat, giving the small child a thankful nod for keeping his parents in check," As I was saying, little Megumi got into a fight with a boy yesterday. This behaviour seems very unlike him, so I was just worried if there's anything going on at home lately that's stressing him out?"

Megumi's brows furrowed but he didn't open his mouth, sitting politely in his chair. You hummed," Well, I suppose he hasn't been getting a good amount of sleep lately. But that's all I can think of." You settled a hand on your husband's that was caressing your thigh gently.

Toji hummed," just apologise, Megs. An' we'll be on our way." He grumbled to his son, waving his free hand dismissively.

Megumi cleared his throat and stood up, bowing to his teacher, which shocked her a little," I'm sorry, Mrs. Fiyumi. I won't hit anyone again." When he stood to his full-height, he looked her straight in the eye," I hope your failed marriage is getting better." He stated in such a polite and genuine manner.

Toji bursted out laughing - cackling like a witch whilst you stared at your son in complete horror, tugging his hair scoldingly.

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 2 months

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can u guess which gif will be at the end of this. can you guess. i'll bet at least a few of you can guess XD

Charlie: "New plan- group bonding through shared, SAFE, suffering!"

Alastor: “Oh joy~”

Husk: "Not this fucking shit again."

Angel Dust: "Well hey as long as it's consensual sufferin'~"

Niffty: (lifts arms at vaggie) "YEEET ME!!!"

Vaggie: "Ughh... no."

Niffty: "Aww."

Vaggie: "I'm never living that one down am I?"

Charlie: "Vaggie, you don't need to live anything down EVER-"

Alastor: "Cough cough! Lied to her girlfriend for three years, cough cough!"

Angel Dust: "Dude you're not supposed t' SAY cough."

Husk: “That’s the part you’re fucking annoyed at?”

Charlie: "-and the POINT is, your whole idea about going through hell to trust the people who go through it with you? Not entirely on the wrong track!"

Vaggie: "Yaaay."

Husk: "You fucked up but for the right un-shitty reasons."

Vaggie: "Great. Thanks."

Charlie: "SO! We're all gonna share the worst work day of our lives with each other!"

Niffty: "Share?" (excited) "By INFLICTING them on each other!?"

Charlie: "Talking, Niffty. We're going to, talk about them."

Niffty: "Aww...."

Husk: "Is there a time limit."

Angel Dust: "Is there a rating limit?"

Alastor: (thoughtful) "Does it still count as a terrible work day if I was able to murder them at the end of it?"

Charlie: "Uhhhh-"

Vaggie: "How 'bout we stick to how it made us feel, rather than all the... X rated... gory details?"

Niffty: (sighs) (slumps over) "This is my worst most terrible work day ever.."

Charlie: "And how do you FEEL about it?"

Niffty: "Sad..."

Vaggie: "I'll let you use my spear for roach hunting after this."

Niffty: (bouncing up) "OH THE EMOTIONS! WHATEVER ONES YOU WANT FROM ME I DON'T CARE, I HAVE THEM!!!"

Husk: "What the fuck."

Angel Dust: "Yeesh."

Charlie: "Okay that's, that's enough sharing from you. Good, um, good job!"

Niffty: "Spear spear spear-"

Charlie: "Well MY worst work day was definitely the one where we were besieged by an army of murderous angels heaven-bent on the full scale slaughter of most of my family! And they actually did kill one! Yeah- that." (laughs) "That fucking sucked and I hated it!"

Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty: (GASP)

Charlie: "What? What??"

Angel Dust: "You said the "H" word, toots.."

Vaggie: "She said a lot more than that while writing an angry text to heaven afterwards."

Charlie: "Hey! You checked the text for me- you know I was polite!"

Vaggie: "Charlie, it was the most aggressively polite 'fuck off' anyone's ever written in the history of all creation. I’m so proud of you for it."

Charlie: "Heh."

Alastor: “Cough get a room please cough.”

Angel Dust: “’m TELLING YOU that’s NOT how it’s supposed ‘t WORK you're not supposed t' SAY IT-”

Charlie: "Ah-hem. Um. Husk? Worst work day-?"

Husk: "Still living it."

Hotel Crew: "....."

Husk: "...but you stupid fuckers are keeping me company through it, so, fucking thanks I guess."

Charlie: (tearful) "Oh Husk. That's so..."

Angel Dust: "Love you too, Mr. Whiskers~"

Husk: "Shut the fuck up."

Vaggie: "Hey."

Husk: "Him, not her. The day your “her” shuts the fuck up is the day we all know we're fucked."

Charlie: "Gosh I hope not." (wipes eyes) "Angel Dust? You wanna...?"

Angel Dust: "My worst shitty day was also my BEST day."

Charlie: (bracing herself) "O...kay...?"

Angel Dust: "A friend came to work an' almost killed the boss for me. Can ya believe that? An' the only reason she didn't open him up a few new 'fun' an' 'interestin' holes of his own was 'cause I had to stop her."

Vaggie: "HELL YEAH!"

Charlie: "You mean-"

Angel Dust: "Yeah. Thanks, apple cheeks. I spent good crack money commissionin' fanart of you wrecking his shit."

Charlie: "WHAT!?"

Vaggie: "You have GOT to let me see that."

Charlie: "VAGGIE!"

Vaggie: "Oh come on, it's better than him buying crack, right?"

Angel Dust: "It def looks waaay better on my wall."

Charlie: "I- that's not-"

Niffty: "Is there BLOOD?"

Charlie: "Oh please don't let there be any-"

Angel Dust: "SO much blood, baby."

Charlie: "Noooo...!"

Vaggie: "Now I really need to see it."

Charlie: "H-WHA?"

Husk: "I really need a fucking drink."

Charlie: "I'm- you know what? I'm pretending I didn't hear any of that. La la la! I have complete deniability!"

Alastor: "That's the spirit! You hardly knew him, certainly never fantasized about decorating him with his own entrails! Just keep reminding yourself of that while hiding the body~!"

Charlie: "NO! Just.... well maybe for him..."

Vaggie: "You're so pretty."

Charlie: (pouting) "We need to commission a piece of you standing over Lute with your spear at her throat. It's not FAIR otherwise."

Vaggie: "Anything for you, babe."

Alastor: "How saccharine. Young love hand in hand, spattered in blood."

Charlie: "A-anyway. Alastor. Your turn."

Alastor: "Hmm. Well, there was the time someone reorganized the reels, somehow without mentioning it to me before air time. And without asking me before hand. But..."

Husk: "Here it comes."

Alastor: "Reorganized their organs for them later that night, likewise unasked, was QUITE fun."

Charlie: "I THOUGHT WE SAID WE COULD JUST TALK ABOUT OUR FEELINGS!"

Alastor: "My feelings?"

Niffty: "PURE UNDILUTED JOY"

Alastor: "Mm no, they didn't scream enough for that..."

Charlie: "AAAAAH!" (covers ears)

Alastor: "Shall we say perhaps, accomplished?"

Vaggie: "Over one murder? Wow. You're sure easy to please."

Alastor: "I've always believed in quality not quantity when it comes to my passion projects. Swift, thoughtless killings are so passé."

Angel Dust: "Y'know, meeting you has really ruined the whole dashing dapper man w' a tinted glass monocle for me. It's that creepy grin. You're a total boner kill."

Alastor: "Oh I do try."

Vaggie: "What about the day you died? Didn't you get fucking shot like a deer, venison a la Alastor?"

Alastor: "Fan of my history, hmm?"

Vaggie: "The TV future about it is pretty funny, not gonna lie."

Alastor: "Ah ha ha! TV DID YOU SAY."

Vaggie: "Vox airs it. Every day."

Alastor: "AND YOU WATCHED IT. HMM?"

Vaggie: "Every. Day."

Angel Dust: "I bring the popcorn and pills."

Husk: "I mix the fucking drinks."

Niffty: "I wish it had more BLOOD!"

Alastor: "ET TU, NIFFTY?"

Charlie: "Okay okay, that's WAY more than enough from you, reel back in the shadow monsters please-"

Alastor: "AHAHAHAH...!" (fades into shadows)

Angel Dust: "Creep. He's prob'ly vaping off to go curse the TV again."

Husk: "For mother fuck. I've got that cooking show coming on tonight. Will smacking the aerial with the angel spear get it working again?"

Vaggie: "Probably...?"

Charlie: "Vaggie!" (desperate) (hopeful) "You have a normal worst day at work to finish this exercise off with, right!?"

Vaggie: "...."

Vaggie: "Uh, well sweetie...."

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #chaggie #vaggie #angel dust hazbin hotel #husk hazbin hotel #niffty hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #incorrect quotes #made the gif first and was like wait #oh no #it's MORE hotel bonding time....!

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spidernuggets · 4 months

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Jason Todd x Reader

"You're going, Jason, and you don't even want to. I don't see the problem with me tagging along."

"It's a problem when you look like that."

You smiled, proud at your efforts of making yourself look presentable for another one of Bruce's grand galas. It would be your first time attending one of his events, thinking it would be a good time to officially introduce yourself as Jason's lover.

You pulled a strand of your hair away from your face and admired yourself in the mirror. Usually, you don't spend so much time dressing up, but you decided that you wanted to make a good first impression when meeting Jason's family.

You assumed Jason knew you were coming with after he told you that he'd be going to the gala, and you thought it was an unsaid invitation, like usual. Every time Jason said he'd be going somewhere or to some sort of event, he'd expect you to come with.

So it surprised you when he asked why you were all dressed up, even when he was all fancied up too.

"You look nice... But why?"

"What do you mean, Jay? I'm going to Bruce's gala with you, no?" You asked, confused as to why he was asking.

His eyes widened. "What? No, no. I know you usually come, but not tonight. Maybe another night, sweetheart," he says.

Your head tilts to the side. "Why not tonight? It's a good time to meet the rest of your family, Jay! Well, I mean, I already know Dick, but I wanna meet everyone else!" You say excitingly.

Jason sighs and sits down on the bed. "I promise you, darling, you can meet them another time, just not tonight. A lot of people are gonna be there, so I doubt you'd get the chance to talk to them anyway."

"You sound like you'd be embarrassed if I showed up," you scoffed.

"I wouldn't! I just don't want you to come!" He argues back. You paused for a moment. He didn't want you to go with him? Was he actually embarrassed to be seen with you? Your insecurities start to bubble inside you. Sure, you weren't rich or owned a lot of fancy clothes. Hell, it was Jason who bought you the outfit you were wearing! And yeah, there would be a lot of prettier, more good-looking, fit people out there... that Jason could find mire attractive...

"You're going, Jason, and you don't even want to. I don't see the problem with me tagging along."

"It's a problem when you look like that."

Sorry, what? What did he just say? Why did he say that? How could he have said that so casually? Why is he looking at you like he didn't say anything wrong? Why does it look like he's.. proud of what he said?

You look back at the full-length mirror. Insecure thought starts to fill your head.

So he is embarrassed to be seen with me? I guess the outfit is a little too tight. I think I did go overboard with the foundation. I wouldn't wanna be seen with me either.

"Oh," was all you replied with as you slowly made your way into the bathroom that was in his room.

Jason's gaze followed you. Panic began to run his system. Wait, what did he just say again? "It's a problem when you look like that." What was wrong with that? He thought you would've been happy to hear that from him.

Oh shit.

Realisation punched Jason harder in the face than any blow that he got from Bruce, Dick or any other villain he was fighting.

Jason quickly stood up from the bed and strode to the bathroom door that you quickly shut close.

"Y/n! Wa-wait, love, I didn't mean that! I meant like-"

"It's fine, Jay, just go ahead, I'll stay here," he heard your little voice crack, and his heart broke into a million pieces.

He tried turning the knob to open the door, but to no avail as you've already locked it.

Jason leaned his head against the door, trying to get you to open it. "Darling, c'mon, please open the door. Please, let me talk to you, I- I didn't mean what I said," he begged.

When you opened the door, you were already out of your outfit, wearing your pyjama pants and one of Jason's shirts.

Your eyes were red, but you were smiling. "I said, it's fine, Jason. Just go, please. I'll meet your family another night."

Jason's eyes widened, and his head started shaking. "No. No, no, no. It's Jay! Not- not Jason. You never call me Jason. Sweetheart, please, listen," he pleaded as you tried nudging him out the door.

Jason turned around and grabbed your wrists, leading you towards the bed. He sat you down as he sat beside you, gently holding your face in his hands as he softly caressed your tear-stained cheeks with his thumbs.

"Y/n, my love, listen to me. I didn't mean that. When I said it was a problem that you look like that, I meant-" He sighed. "I meant that you looked drop dead gorgeous. Stunning. Amazing. Breath taking. Do you know how many people would be there tonight? Trying to steal you away from me?"

"Jason, why-"

"Jay."

You rolled your eyes playfully at his interruption. "Jay, why the hell would I let them 'steal me away' when I have a perfect man right here with me?"

"Because I'm not perfect! And there's someone who is perfect out there that you might find and leave me for, because you're perfect too!"

You scoffed. "Honestly, Jay. Do you know how many times I've dreaded you going to those galas because I might believe the same thing? That you're going to find someone better than me?"

"There's no one better than yo-"

You quickly cut him off. "Jason Tood, I swear to god, shut up." And he did, and you continued. "When... When you said that, I finally accepted that you didn't want me anymore. That you found someome perfect, and that was why you didn't want me to go. Because I don't fit in with everyone else. With all those rich, fancy people. Because let's face it, I don't, I really don't. So, yeah, I know you meant something different when you said that, but... I can't imagine any other interpretation of it. Even if you explain what you actually meant by it," your voice quiets down as you look down at your fingers intertwining each other while you pick on your nails and skin.

Jason's shoulder sag as he brought you in close. His lips leaned against your forhed as he muttered apologies loud enough for you to hear.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, sweetheart," He kissed your forhead. "It really wasn't what I meant," he kissed it again. "We can go together to the gala if you want," he kissed it a last time.

You sniffled, the sound making his heart ache, you looked up at him, shaking your head. "No, I don't really feel like going anymore," you say quietly, your voice hoarse. "I'll be okay, Jay," you whispered, "I promise, you go."

Jason sighed, letting go of you and getting up from the bed. When you think he's about to leave the room, he walks around the bed to the bedside table where his phone lies. He makes a call, the person picking up on the other end after three rings.

"Yeah. Yeah, Dick, uhh, I won't be coming tonight. Ye-Yeah, I know, I couldn't care less about what Bruce says, I'll see you tomorrow, bye," and he put his phone back on the table, removing his jacket, tie and dress shirt, leaving him in just his trousers after removing his belt.

Your head tilts in confusion, and Jason swears it was the cutest thing he's ever seen.

He lies down on the bed, grabbing you by the waist, pulling you down as he wrapped you in a warm, tight embrace, leaving light kisses all over your face as you giggled from the affection.

"Next gala or event or family meetup or whatever, you're coming with me, and I'll introduce you to my family," Jason mutters, his face buried in your hair.

Your eyes glow, "Really?" you asked, already excited.

"Really," he lowly replied, kissing the crown of your head.

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xoxoladyaz · 11 months

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It Hits Different This Time, Part 2

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Rock Star Eddie x Steve Harrington

TW: Mentions of alcohol, drug abuse

QUICK AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm so sorry that the last entry was so angst heavy, I promise this one provides some comfort! Eddie needed to take a big step here and he really, really does. Also, much love to everyone who commented, I've tagged you at the bottom of the post - let me know if anyone else would like to be notified of the next entry!

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five

It was another five days before Steve heard from Eddie. Another five torturous days of radio silence, only this time, there wasn’t anything online. No new articles were popping up saying he’d been spotted somewhere, no new TikToks of him meeting fans on the street. The rest of the band was MIA too; Steve had thought about sending Jeff a text to check-in but ultimately decided to wait another couple days. Robin had been texting with Chrissy, after all, and if something bad had gone down, she would know.

When Eddie did finally call, it wasn’t from a number that Steve recognized.

“I’m getting a call from Malibu.”

“Holy shit!” Robin sat up on the other end of the couch and shot him a look. “Okay, just breathe dingus, okay? It’s going to be okay, I’ll be here the whole time.” She squeezed his ankle comfortingly. “You can do this.”

Steve accepted the call with shaky hands and brought his phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey Steve.”

He shut his eyes and swallowed, trying to stop his voice from cracking. “Eddie.”

He heard Eddie let out a watery laugh across the line. “Do you, uh, have a minute?”

“Mmmm hmmm,” Steve hummed. He physically couldn’t get an actual word out.

This was it. Eddie was leaving, he’d cheated, it was over –

“I’m in rehab.”

Steve’s eyes shot open. “You’re what?”

Robin started rocking back and forth. “Turn it up!” She hissed, and Steve obliged, turning up his volume so she could just barely hear what was being said. (Was this a private conversation? Yes. Did Eddie know he’d probably immediately tell Robin everything? Also yes.

Was this news big enough to warrant having Robin eavesdrop?

Absolutely yes.)

“Yeah, I’m, uh, at the Promises Treatment Center in Malibu,” Eddie continued. “We got back about five days ago and when I saw your note, I –

“Look, Steve,” Eddie continued, and his voice was choked up, like he himself couldn’t speak, “I fucked up. I’ve fucked everything up. You are – you said in that note that you didn’t want me to give up on my dreams, and you’re right, making it big and getting famous for my music was my dream for literal years. Because I kept thinking “once I get a record out there,” “once I go on tour,” “once I win a Grammy,” “once I get a million dollars,” then I’d finally be happy.

“But it turns out the only thing being famous has done is make me pretty fucking miserable,” Eddie let out a harsh laugh. “But I was so goddamn convinced that this was it, you know, that I’d accomplished my dreams so I must be happy that I started taking whatever I could get my fucking hands on to make me feel that way. The thing is drugs and the alcohol and the parties never made it fucking last. It just made every other second that I was in the public eye that much worse.

“But I’d still made it, you know? I felt like I didn’t deserve to feel this fucking miserable. And everyone back home was so fucking proud and I didn’t want to let them down - ” Eddie paused for a few moments to clear his throat before continuing. “I didn’t want to let you down. Because Eddie “The Freak” Munson didn’t deserve you, but maybe Eddie “The Rock Star” could.”

Steve can feel his own throat closing up and he can barely see Robin’s face, his eyes are watering that bad. “Baby,” he sobbed. “I wish you’d told me.”

“Me too,” Eddie sniffled across the line. “I didn’t though, I just kept self-medicating and ignoring it, because that’s always worked,” he huffed sarcastically. “But then - ” Eddie cut off again, and Steve can hear that he’s trying so hard to hold back his own sobs, “then I came home last week and realized that I’d missed our goddamn anniversary because I was too fucking high and that you were gone and I just – I called Jeff and I told him to get me on a plane out here because you – you, Steve Harrington, you are the best thing in my goddamn life. And the only dream I want to chase now is the one where we get married and adopt some kids and grow old together.”

“Eddie,” Steve sobbed out again, and he heard Eddie start to cry too, and then suddenly they were crying together, even from hundreds of miles away.

“So I’m gonna be here for the next six weeks,” Eddie finally continued, his voice still full of tears. “I’m, uh, meeting with a therapist for a few hours every day and working through my shit. I wanna be a guy who deserves good things, baby. I wanna be a guy who deserves you.”

“What – what about the band?” Steve sniffled, rubbing at his eyes. A handful of Kleenex appeared in front of him. Robin must have gotten up to grab them at some point. He shot her a thankful nod and patted at his eyes; Robin nodded back and did the same, her face flushed that bright shade of red that accompanied her own tears.

“Murray wrote a provision into our contract where if one of us checks into rehab, then the band is instantly put on a two-year, non-negotiable hiatus.”

“But – what about your momentum, the label kept talking about it?”

“The label can go fuck themselves” Eddie practically growled over the phone. “Who do you think hosted the party where I first got my hands on the hardcore stuff anyways?”

“Babe - ”

“Murray said he was going to look into some sort of contract termination so we can sign somewhere else. And even if we didn’t have that thing written into our contract, we probably would have gone on hiatus anyways, or worse. That – the last leg was rough. Gareth was just as fucked up as I was and Jeff was fucking pissed. He kept having to pull Gareth out of orgies and shit while babysitting Phil and I too.”

“Did,” Steve swallowed harshly, “did - ”

“No, baby, never,” Eddie declared quickly. “Even when I couldn’t fucking see straight, you were the only one I wanted to be with. I honestly don’t even know who we were partying with at the end there, the label sent them for some PR shit, I don’t know. It’s just another reason why we want out.”

“Oh,” Steve murmured, “okay. Good. Or, well, not good. You know.”

“Yeah, baby, I do,” Eddie replied softly.

They sat in silence for a few moments, just listening to each other breathe. “I, uh,” Eddie started up again quietly, “I’m wearing the ring.”

“Yeah?” Steve found himself smiling despite the fresh tears welling up in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Eddie’s voice was just as choked up as before. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Eddie - ”

“Look, I know, I know I hurt you so, so badly and I’m never going to fucking forgive myself for what I did, but I – you’re everything I want, baby. If I had to give up Corroded Coffin tomorrow for you, I would do it in a heartbeat. And I – I know I can’t expect for you to just, like, forgive me after the shit I pulled, but – will you be there, when I get out? Can I – I want to come home to you,” Eddie finished, and Steve could hear that he was crying again.

Steve looked over at Robin, who was wiping more tears out of her own eyes. They looked at each other for a few moments.

It might be crazy, but I think I want to say yes.

I don't blame you. I mean, this is one hell of an apology, especially from Mr. “I’ll Never Need to Go to Rehab Ever.”

Yeah. And I love him.

And you love him.

“I’ll be there,” Steve murmured reassuringly, and Eddie burst into a new wave of muffled sobs on the other end of the phone. “Just do what you need to do and come home when you’re ready, okay? I’ll be waiting for home.”

“At home?” Eddie’s voice broke on a whimper.

“At home. I’ll even clean the bathrooms and everything,” Steve joked, and Eddie let out a loud laugh despite the quiet sobs Steve could still hear.

“Really? You’ll be there?”

“Yeah, Eddie. I’ll be there. We can get through this.”

“Together.”

“Together. Because I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.”

“Fuck, Stevie,” Eddie let out an incredulous laugh again, “I love you so fucking much, baby. I’m going to marry the fuck out of you someday.”

“Save the sweet talk for when you get home, okay?” Steve could feel his heart settling in his chest, and whatever tears he’d had left to cry were all gone now. There was just the twinge of missing Eddie, but that would go away soon enough. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Eds.”

“Thanks, baby.” Eddie’s answer was soft now. “So I, uh, get a couple hours to call people every day from one of the site’s phones. Can I keep calling you?”

“Please,” Steve heard Eddie exhale in relief. “Every day sounds perfect.”

“Good, good. I’ll have to, uh, use some of my time to talk to Wayne, but the rest of it is yours, baby. And Gareth, Jeff threw him into a different center too. His check-in was much less voluntary though.”

“Shit,” Steve winced. “Is there anything Robin or I can do to help?”

“Take Jeff and Chrissy out to a nice dinner and use the Amex,” Eddie snorted, causing Steve to laugh.

“Consider it done.”

“Good." Steve heard the sound of another voice behind Eddie. Eddie replied something Steve couldn't understand, but it was in the affirmative. "Doc says my time is up for today. My, uh, talk with Wayne took up a lot of time,” Eddie returned, and his voice trembled as he spoke. “But I’ll call you tomorrow and I’ll see you in six weeks.”

“Yes you will.” Steve shut his eyes and imagined Eddie was standing right in front of him. Eddie with his riotous curls and holey graphic tees and tight jeans. Eddie with his rings on his fingers, with Steve’s ring on his finger. Eddie, standing across from him and smiling at him with that twinkle in his eye that had first caught Steve’s attention all those years ago.

“I love you, Eds.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. I’ll see you on the other side.”

Tags List: @gregre369 @starman-jpg @skoomy-doompy @thequeenrainacorn @sleepyboosstuff @strawberrykore @paintsplatteredandimperfect @amoris-no-smut-allowed @steve-the-hairrington @iknewyouweremuggle @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sunfloweringstories @loverkasp @hyperfixationgoddess @steddie-as-they-go @zerokrox-blog @messrs-weasley @thelittleclare @lovelyscot

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #robin buckley #platonic stobin #rock star Eddie munson #sweetheart steve harrington

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pupcuck · 4 months

Text

WASTE ME 3

ft. leon s. kennedy x gn!reader

tags. rape/non-con, painal, vomit like a lot of it, emotional abuse

a/n. so messy n rushed cuz i deleted it like 5 times n rewrote it over n over 😭 sorry it’s so flat from leon’s side but omg rbs n feedback appreciated :3 unedited so ignore typos please :3 leon is um. idk I think I changed his character drastically from the last parts but whatever!!! if u see me using shit from old fics ignore it ong

tumblr has started to remove fics that use tw non-con, tw incest and any nsfw tags in general. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags so i can have the same reach as other authors, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

one / two

“Can you put that away? I can’t concentrate.” Leon’s hands tighten their grip on the wheel, agitation creeps into his voice as you push the visor back into its place, then very promptly - when you think he’s not looking - pull it back down for the umpteenth time to give yourself a once over. “Cut it out.”

“Sorry.” You say quickly, as if the words have been festering in your mouth for a while now.

“Hey, you don’t have to come.” You do, you have to or I'm in deep shit. I bet a couple hundred on this. A date, that is. In all the years he’s known his friends, not once has he brought a date to their annual New Year’s party. “We’re not too far from your house, I can turn the car around.”

“No,” You shake your head, “No, I want to come with you.”

Leon isn’t sure if he wants you to come with him, if he’s ready for the barrage of questions and insults, namely from Claire. He’s taking you ‘cause there’s no one else, and to be quite frank, he considered hiring an escort before he even thought of you. The thing is, you’ve gotten too comfortable around him. Using pet names, babe and baby, so Leon tried to put some distance between the two of you. ‘Cause that made him queasy. You’re not dating. He’s thirty-seven years old, there’s no room in his life to date, you don’t date at that age. You fuck and get it over with.

“I don’t know what you’re nervous about,” Leon hums, he turns the radio down, “You look nice.” He expects you to fawn over him, throw yourself into his lap ‘cause he said you don’t look bad. That’s what you’re like, right? Doesn’t take a whole lot to get your tail wagging.

“Don’t say that.” The tone in which you speak is new, Leon hasn’t heard that before. Not been on the receiving end of any mood swings you’re bound to have. You have the emotional capacity of a toddler - no form of regulation over any of your thoughts and feelings, words slip past your lips like you’ve got the shits. Verbally speaking.

“What?” He asks, dumbfounded by the total switch.

“I don’t like it… I don’t like when you say things like that, it feels like you're lying.” And he’s not. That might be the first time he’s ever told you the truth so directly.

“I’m not, why would I lie about that?” Oh, so all of a sudden you’ve managed to grasp the concept of self respect? Talking back to him and shit. You know, Leon’s kinda proud of you. One of you had to break free from the binds of your swaddling cloth sooner or later. One of you has to cut ties, and it sure as hell won’t be him. It’s not that you’ve grown on him, instead you’ve torn open his flesh and slipped between the cracks in his ribs. Nestled into his chest cavity and made it your home. Or he’s just real lonely.

“I’m not stupid, Leon.”

“I never said you were stupid.”

“You’re looking at me like I’m stupid.”

“What? No, I’m not. I’m looking straight ahead, ‘cause I’m driving?”

“Yeah? Well, keep looking at the road.” You huff through your nostrils, and it’s absurd, the shit you come up with. All it does is show your age. He’s fucking a kid, one that can’t even drink yet.

Leon does just that, neither of you utter a word for the remainder of the journey. When he gets out, you catch up with him, take his arm in yours as if it belongs to you, he’d rather you take his heart. So all the tenderness would be zapped from his system. Leon’s love comes in the shape of your casket, it comes with the engravings on your tombstone, empty and cadaverous. It’s not enough for you, you don’t know that, but he does. Leon’s a weeping sore of a man, the kind that won’t go away, not with over-the-counter pills, not the type that gets drained, not even antibiotics could help him. You’re licking his wounds and getting nothing from it, nothing but a mouthful of infectious pus.

“Leon— Oh.” The smile on Claire’s face drops as quick as it came, her forehead creases, and he’d like to tell her pretty girls shouldn’t frown so hard, they’ll get wrinkles, but she’d have his head. Tell him that it’s a natural progression, and that he’s looking a little rough these days, he should try keto. Leon has been on keto most his life if dick counts as meat.

He wraps an arm around your shoulder, draws you closer, smiling with all his teeth to show Claire that he really likes you when he really doesn’t. Well, he does, it’s just complicated. “Claire.” Leon greets with a nod of his head, he introduces you despite the uneasiness, then guides you to sit on an unoccupied seat beside Rebecca, his hand on your lower back.

From the corner of his eye, Leon watches you shift in your seat as Claire asks him if this is a thing now - cherry picking. If he’s going through a midlife crisis, and that she knows a guy who knows a girl who knows a good shrink, one that keeps real quiet. Then their conversation gets derailed and she begins to talk about Simone de Beauvoir, wrote a book called The Second Sex apparently, Claire reveres it, and Leon is confused on how they got to here.

Hunnigan argues that The Second Sex others women of colour very brashly, and it’s not quite argumentative because Hunnigan talks factually, like everything she says is right, and it usually is. It’s impressive how often she teeters on a condescending edge. She says Claire should read more on intersectionality, and Claire nods, bats her lashes ‘cause she listens to pretty ladies well. The only intersection Leon knows of is a road junction— he wonders how you’re doing with Rebecca, so he excuses himself from the conversation. Hunnigan tells him that he wasn’t included in the first place.

When he catches sight of you, you’re sitting alone, picking at whatever piece of food you can get, leg bouncing so hard the table does too. Chris grabs his arm and drags his arm towards Jill, and then it’s Sherry, who is always a joy, and then Ashley, and her dad who Leon, for some reason, thought was in a wheelchair. He gets to you a full forty minutes later.

“Woah, slow down, are you okay?” Leon takes your wrist in his, wonders how to word this correctly, without you taking any offence. “You’re eating a lot.” Shit. Not the best opener.

“I am not.” There’s a droplet of sweat trickling down the column of your neck, he wipes it with his thumb. “Am I? Did you notice? Oh my gosh, you so did. Did anyone else notice? Why did you take so long? I didn’t know what to do, Leon. Was I supposed to say anything? Was I meant to come with you?”

“Listen, calm down, god, no— just, I told you to sit here, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” You nod, tremors making your hands unsteady as you take his. “I think I should go.”

“What?” Leon’s face twists, “I gotta stay, Sherry wants me to stay, I haven’t seen her in a long time.”

You bristle at this, shoulders slumping, “No, I don’t need you to drop me, I can just get a cab back, I just feel a little out of place, Leon. Like, I know no one even knows my name, but I just feel like they’re all looking at me and talking about me and I feel so stupid.”

He gets it, truly. “You should stay.” Leon’s fingers intertwine with yours, though it’s nothing gentle, it’s to keep you under lock and key. A threat of sorts.

“Leon, I don’t really, like, I’m just sitting here eating on my own, I look like a freak.” You said it, not him.

“You could try to engage, y’know?” And it’s so hypocritical for him to say, ‘cause Leon needs a drink or five before he can even stomach talking to the older Redfield. Not that Chris is a bad guy, he’s just so intensely stupid sometimes.

“Leon,” You take your hand back, and it’s the first time you’ve denied him of anything, “I don’t think they really care if I’m here or not, I’m going home.” It’s not a question, not Leon, may I go home now, pretty please? It’s an assertion, you’re firm in your wants, and he hates it. You’re stepping out of line.

So Leon does what he does best, he fucks it up. Back to square one with your blood caked beneath his fingernails and your tears salty on his tongue. ‘Cause it doesn’t matter what you want, it hasn’t mattered before so why would it matter now? He cradles the back of your head when it knocks against the bathroom stall, tips it forward so he can kiss you sweetly. And you’re a sucker for it, hands fisting at the fabric of his dress shirt like a baby. When you’re bare, he kneels down, spreads you apart, and you’re so wet there’s slick dripping down your ass crack. Embarrassing how fast you get it on for him, and Leon’s here with a semi you could barely class as a semi. Though that’s more of a Leon problem.

The nip to your clit makes you gasp, you tangle your fingers in his hair, and he likes that. Leon presses his nose to it, laps at the slick to clean you up, but he’s only getting you messier. He spreads your ass to lick deeper into your hole, then his hand leaves so his middle and forefinger can keep your cushioned lips open, teeth scraping over your slippery folds. Leon’s mouth is moving on autopilot, his brain is working overtime, what’s he gonna do? How can he make you stay? Right, right, right, that’s gotta be it. When Leon pulls away with a pop! you whine, he’s always kind enough to let you cum. Not this time.

“Hold on, kid,” Leon murmurs, spins you around and you brace yourself against the walls of the cubicle automatically. They seem paper thin. He keeps a hand on your hip, the other unbuckling his belt with a clink as he lowers his jeans to slip out his cock that hardens only at the thought of taking you this way. You flail when he pushes into your tighter hole. The puffy rim is wet with your arousal, not wet enough to take cock. He wasn’t even merciful enough to spit on it.

“No, no, oh god, Leon, no, I’m gonna die, Leon, you’ll kill me.” Your bones crack out of place with how hard you struggle against him, limbs angled oddly, and he hates it. No doesn’t sound right coming from you. It’s a tough one, breaching your asshole, getting past the dryness.

You clench so hard, try to push him out, he kisses the nape of your neck, the tackiness of sweat salty on his lips. “Stop runnin’ from it, I’ve got you.”

“Please— Please, please, Leon,” Your cheek is squashed against the cubicle door, nails scratching at it till they crack and split. He reaches round to cover your mouth, you’re getting too loud. There’s snot and tears and spit covering his palm, but it’s alright. Worth it.

“Hey, hey, hey, c’mon do it for me. You can do it for me, can’t you? You’re not a baby.” Leon’s teeth tug on your earlobe, he manages to bury himself to the hilt in your ass. A miracle really, ‘cause he can barely move an inch back or forth.

You’re gasping for breath, knees buckling despite him supporting your weight. The pain must be bad, he knows what it’s like, that sickeningly raw pain. Feels like it’s in your guts, stirring up all the acid, tangling your intestines. But he got over it, and you got over it once upon a time. So you can do it, he knows you can.

For a minute, he thinks you stop breathing, you slump over and he struggles to hold you up, then he gets ahold of you. You’re dry heaving, retching as you claw at the cubicle, he draws his hips back and you whimper brokenly into his palm. There’s an abundance of resistance, but Leon’s strong enough to push past it, his strokes are shallow - can’t find it in himself to fuck you hard and deep. Well, Leon would, but it’s too much effort.

There’s no letting up, you’re stubborn today, his free hand reaches round to tweak your nipple, then it trails down your body, cups your cunt and parts your fold to thumb your swollen clit. It does little to lessen the ache, the burn, but Leon hopes you’ll loosen up. “Hey, you got it, jus’ focus on my fingers, okay?”

“Okay, Leon,” You get out through ragged breaths, chest rising up and down unevenly as you try to regain some sort of consciousness, he's raped you into delirium. Leon grits his teeth, that word is harsh on his ears still. “Okay… I’ll try, I’ll try… I’m trying—“

“I know you are,” Leon talks you through it, talks you through rape unlike the first time, so that must mean something, give him some kind of credit. “I know it hurts, it’ll get better, yeah? I promise.”

“I can’t breathe— Leon, I can’t-“ Your hands press down on your stomach, then your chest, heart beating wildly, to the point where he thinks he can hear it.

“You can breathe, ‘cause you’re talking to me right now, aren’t you?” He asks, “Remember what you said to me? You said I could do this.”

“I know… I know, Leon, I’m really sorry— God, it hurts so bad.” Another sob is muffled into his wet palm.

“I know, but you said you would do it for me, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Leon, I’m sorry, I did— I did.” You shiver, head jerking to the side as he pulls back, then slams his hips back into you - so hard your knees knock against the cubicle. The pressure on your clit alleviates nothing it seems, even when he presses a little harder, you continue to kick and squirm.

“Just a little more, yeah?” Leon tells you, he kisses your shoulder for good measure, starts up a rhythmic pace that rewards him with a squeaky yelp each time he thrusts. You’re uncomfortably tight, and it’s pretty dry, but Leon makes do, most nights his fist is drier.

Sweat prickles at your delicate skin, and your body goes rigid when he cums, he jams himself so far into you Leon fears he might have trouble pulling out. Dick might come off clean. He smooths a hand down your spine, “You’re okay.” Leon says, and it’s more of an order than anything else.

He takes your clothes from where they’re hung on the single hook, he might be a serial rapist, but he’s a gentleman. Serial might be a stretch, Leon’s not quite at that point yet, and he doesn’t intend to be. But he might be your serial rapist, ‘cause it’s happened multiple times and all.

Your gait is off, more so than last time, taking shuddering breaths as you clutch at his arm. Leon doesn’t know what to say, he leads you out the back, ‘cause Claire will look him in the eye and know what he’s done. Step by step, you wobble towards the door to the passenger seat, crumpling against it as you fumble with the handle.

“Let me do it,” Leon grows impatient, steps forward, you jump out of your skin, snapping out of your haze as you manage to open the door. Your teeth are chattering, and you’re clammy, ribs rattling noisily when you cough. He wonders if he’s really done it now, fucked over his chance with you of all people.

Every time there’s a bump in the road, you wince visibly, nails digging into the leather of his seat to try and conceal any noise leakage. “Leon?”

He stops at a red light, turns to you in surprise, didn’t think you were capable of speaking right now. “Yeah?”

“Do you think she’s cute? The one who dresses like Jackie O?” Of course it’s some insecure shit like that, the first thing you say to break the silence post-rape is a question about whether or not he likes a girl.

“Ashley’s pretty.” Leon answers, face that launched a thousand ships - or a thousand Molotov cocktails, right at him actually, by the hands of religious zealots. He thinks that if it weren’t for a lot of things, they could’ve worked out, and maybe he wouldn’t have resorted to getting drunk and raping college kids in alleys.

“Leon, I think I’m gonna throw up.” Your voice is low, shaky, rolling down the window and letting the chill hit your warm face.

“I can pull over.” Leon offers, he can’t bother to go through with dry cleaning. Rather it come out on the side of the road than his carpets.

“No, never mind, I’m fine.” You go quiet again, then, “What about the big guy, do you like him?”

“What?” He looks like he’s constipated, the idea of Chris and him is an interesting one that’s never crossed his mind. Sure, he’s objectively attractive, but he’s so hardheaded it pisses Leon off. “No, well, yeah, I like him ‘cause he’s my friend.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m asking.” You lie, and he knows you’re lying, because you’re you, and he knows you. Predictable little thing. “Okay, so, what about the girl you were talking to at the beginning when we came in. Ponytail, red jacket.”

“God, no, Claire’s just my friend.”

“Yeah, I know, Leon. I’m asking if, like, you like her. As a friend. I just want to know more about you.” Liar, he indulges you anyway. He owes you one, and maybe money for hospital bills.

“She’s my best friend,” Leon claims, she might not think of him that way, but Leon certainly thinks of Claire that way. “Of course I like her, I love her.”

“Then who was the lady with glasses? The tall one?” You peer at him hesitantly, the dark obscures much of your face from him, but he sees your wide eyes.

“Hunnigan? Yeah, she’s hot, I don’t want her though.” Too brash, his tongue slipped. It’s more that she doesn’t want him. Leon wouldn’t tell you that though. He’s patient for you, lets you ask questions that reek of insecurity before he’s pulling up on his drive.

“I don’t want to take them off,” You’re quick to stop his wandering hands, eyes going foggy and faraway when he tries to get you out of your underwear, “Please, Leon.” There’s blood smeared on the backs of your thighs that Leon pretends not to notice.

And because he’s so kind, and reeling with guilt from the whole public bathroom sodomy situation, Leon abides. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure, I’ll just get you off.” You insist, squeezing his half-hearted boner, thumbing the tip, cupping his balls, all the stuff he’s taught you to do. He might not get it up, ‘cause he’s had a drink, and ‘cause he’s still spent from earlier. Rape is no joke, shit takes a lot of effort, fucking a dry hole is not as pleasing as bootcamp made it seem.

Your mouth is warm on his cock, you lick along the vein on his underside, kiss the tip sweetly like you love him - it’s not like ‘cause you do love him. The head rests weighty on your tongue, you take half of him easily. You’re not the best at sucking dick, so he doesn’t expect much from you, expectations already reduced to zero, but Leon tilts his head back with a groan when you begin to bob your head. Look at that, you’ve gotten better.

Really, he should’ve known, seen all the signs. The tell-tale bulge in your throat, something foreign, not his dick ‘cause shits not the big. You felt sick in the car, he’d seen you gag over the toilet bowl after he came inside you. Leon’s reflexes are good, but not good enough. When you finally make it to the balls, eyes wet with unshed tears as he pushes your limits, nose in his crotch— you go to raise your head, he makes the mistake of pushing you back down. Biggest mistake of his life. And Leon has made a lot of mistakes.

He’s had monster after monster spew their god knows what on him. Been knee-deep in sewers, he’s been pissed on by military men for fuck’s sake. Somehow, this tops it off. You sicking up hors d'oeuvres on his lap. Vomit on his dick is the worst feeling Leon’s felt in quite a while. He’d rather break his ribs again and again and again and again. Over and over. Have them caved in by a metal pipe.

You lurch backwards, vomit caked around your mouth, coating his cock, dripping down your chin. God, he might add to the mess, but Leon’s got a strong enough stomach to hold it. Happy New Year! God Bless America. Isn’t this just the dream?

“Oh my god,” You gasp, wipe at your mouth drearily with your bare arm, breathing picking up as you stagger away from him, “God, no, no, no.”

He blinks at you, and you stare at him shell-shocked. Leon inhales, counts to ten, he's been through worse. He has. Honest. What’s a little puke on his cock going to do?

“I’m sorry, Leon, I’m so sorry, oh my gosh, Leon, I’m so sorry, what do I do?” You fumble and use his blanket to wipe him clean, doing a shit job as he anticipated. “I can do it, I can do it, I can get you off, I’m sorry, please, let me make it up to you, Leon.” Then you’re clocking in for your shift, sloppy and hurried all at once as you suck him off, only for a moment- then a wave of nausea hits and a second bout of puke is spewed on his lap, waterlogging his sheets as it trickles down his thighs. Fuck, it’s fucking gross. Made the place into a biohazard.

“Hey, c’mon—“

“No, no, Leon,” You retch, spit bubbling in the back of your throat as you shake your head in wild refusal, “I can do it, please, please,” He feels you swallow around him, tight little throat that’s only got space for vomit and not his cock, ‘cause it’s pushed out of your mouth as you gag and drip liquified party food. Your head pops back up, dabbing at the stickiness that covers the bottom half of your face to no avail.

“Kid.” Leon grabs you by your hair, straightens you up so you’re facing him, drool pooling in your mouth, tongue heavy as you’re racked with full body shivers to warn you of more. This time you make it to the bathroom, courtesy of Leon, there’s vomit tracked down his hall, on the rug Sherry bought him to brighten up his boring bedroom. “Let it all out,” He’s trying his best to be comforting, rubbing your back as your head hangs limp in the toilet bowl till there’s nothing but bile and spit.

Leon lets you shower first, ‘cause y’know, he loves sitting around soaked in barf. Really lets it marinate. He watches your figure through the foggy glass, barely able to keep yourself up, leaning against the wall when you have to wash anything from the waist below. God, he fucked you up. Maybe the vomit bath is more than deserved. He feels it crust over on his dick and itches.

“Are you okay now?” Leon mumbles, his body takes on your curled up shape, knows you could use the comfort.

The mattress in his room has been stripped bare, sheets put on a double spin in the washing machine. For now, the two of you lay close in the guest room that’s been unused since he moved in. “I’m okay.” You whisper, placing your hand over his when he wraps his arm around you. He thinks you’ve fallen asleep going by how still you are. “Leon?”

He wonders if it’s worth pretending to be asleep, can’t lie that he forgives you for that, then any ounce of initial hostility ebbs away and he feels white, hot guilt. “Yeah?”

“Before I met you, I would think of all this stupid shit, like I wanted to get ran over so people would care about me, or they’d feel bad for me, and then I stopped thinkin’ like that when we started dating.” You’re not dating him. Leon’s unsure on how to make that explicitly clear. “But, then, I started thinking like that again. ‘Cause I thought I wanted you to rape me ‘cause I thought you liked me, I wouldn’t mind if you liked me, I would let you do anything to me. I thought that you’d feel bad and take care of me after but you don’t, you just act like it didn’t happen.”

Leon closes his eyes, lashes fluttering on the skin of your back, the light tickle is slight enough as to not alarm you. He listens to you, but he doesn’t know what to think, what to say, it’s a lot.

“I only want you to rape me if you like me, but you hate me.” And that’s so far from the truth, Leon doesn’t hate you, and he doesn’t love you, but he does want you. For reasons he can’t explain himself. “I just, I don’t want you to rape me ‘cause you hate me, I want you to hold my hand after and sometimes I want you to kiss me.”

“So if I start liking you, I can do it?” Grown fucking man and he can’t say rape out loud. Leon wonders why it comes so naturally to you, how you can talk so openly about topics he can’t stomach despite being the perpetrator of said topic.

“Yeah, I just want you to like me, Leon.” You don’t beg, it’s pleading, thumb stroking over his knuckles.

“I’ll try.” Leon gives his oath, he’s a bad person he thinks. Not ‘cause of his mom, not ‘cause of dad, not ‘cause of all the shit back in Raccoon City, not ‘cause of bootcamp— none of it. It’s ’cause he feels like it, and he does it to you on purpose, and Leon knows that, but he can’t fix it. “I’ll try.” He repeats to himself, knowing very well his attempt will fall flat.

#leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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that-weeb-in-ur-closet · 2 months

Text

"Valentines Sex? Yes."

Sipnosis: Wake the fuck up, it's V-day, and Satoru is horny. Ge got you gifts too, but, like, does it matter??

Pairing: Horny!happy!Gojo x f!reader.

Note from the author: This is kinda like... A funny smut? It's an actual smut scene, just with random jokes hear and there. - I'll be making more smuts about v-day today, so look for Suguru Geto and Shoko Ieiri in the next one.

As you wake up to the usual feeling of having your clit sucked on, you see the normal sight of your boyfriend in-between your legs and eating you out like the five star meal you are. But, you also see a few heart-shaped boxes, jewelry boxes, some fancy gold-plated rings, along with what looks like expensive clothing that is BEAUTIFUL, and lastly a few gift cards for different places.

"Good morning, princess. Happy Valentines Day."

He smirks up at you, sliding his tongue in and out of your entrance, licking up the liquids that spill out like water. That causes you to whimper slightly out of pleasure, happy about the gifts along with getting aroused by his usual antics.

"G-good morning, 'Toru... W-what's all this?.."

He looks up at you and hums, happily licking line from your hole up to your clit, then sucking and pushing it down with his tongue.

"It's Valentines Day, mamas!"

he grins, all giddy like a child. He kisses your pussy a few times, which makes you smile and look down at him. You gently grab his hair, which is just muscle memory at this point. He slowly takes down his pants, licking your inner thigh before lightly stroking his cock through his underwear.

"You know I love you, Princess? You're so pretty, and do sweet to me."

His words make you smile again, letting out a hum and gently pushing your head back. He wipes some of the spit on his tongue and smears it around before going back to sucking on your clit, taking his boxers off so he can rub his length a few good times.

You move his hand and replace it with your own, letting a small "'Toru," as you do. And that's all you have to do. He's looking right into your eyes while he's sliding his tongue into your entrance, on all fours, while you stroke his dick at a steady pace. Soft moans and whimpers are flowing from both of you until a light

"T-toru... P-please... Stick it in, inside..." He looks up at you, brain lagging from the sensation of you jerking him off, before his eyes widen with a bright smile.

"Ohhhh!! Yeah, sure!" He says in a happy-go-lucky tone, so jovial and innocent, as if you're not both about to fuck. After very, very little hesitation, he gently pins you on your back by your hands, immediately finding your hole, which, other men you've been with have failed to do, (it's a learned skill) and thrusting into you. Still with that happy grin, he giggles out a moan while your eyes roll back. You smile when he smiles, but your heart rate and breathing pick up, heat flushing to your cheeks.

"Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty princess... You're taking me so good! I'm so proud of you~" He says like a proud parent, going a bit deeper, a bit faster, mercilessly pounding into your g-spot.

"H-haaah.... Y-yeah..." You string out, seeing stars at how he praises you while he stuffs you full of his dick. You clench the sheets, moaning a bit louder when he licks your neck.

"Such a good girl for me! You're doing so good, Mama, so good... Hehe, look at how deep I am! Can you see it? Can you see the bulge in your stomach?"

He says in a fast and exited tone, enjoying every aspect of this. You can't even reply, gulping back air as your eyes flutter shut.

"S-Satoru... I-i-i'm-... Cumming..." Your voice cracks, light tears pooling at the tips of your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. He nods enthusiastically, a wide grin on his face as he lightly huffs.

"Me too, pretty girl. Cum on my dick, please?"

He says as he gently kisses your collarbone, which is enough to send you over the edge. You both release at about the same time, your legs shaking and heart pounding.

"So pretty...." He stares down at you before rolling next to you and hugging you tightly, kissing your neck over and over again, the gifts long forgotten about.

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daddypriceugh · 6 months

Text

Mr. And Mrs. Mactavish

*************************

I saw that you guys want fluff so I'm giving you fluff :)

I will maybe upload another fic today, if I don't fall asleep (it's 10:30 pm here)

Anyway enjoy this one <3

Tw: nothing just fluff

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Today is the day you've never thought would come. It just always seemed unreal. But here you are, standing in your wedding dress in front of the church door waiting for the music to announce your entrance.

Your nerves are playing wild and your body feels on fire. What if you trip? What if he changes his mind? What if-

"Are you alright?"

A voice interrupts your thoughts. You look to your left to see John Price standing next to you, with a worried look on his face.

" Yeah I'm fine. Just nervous"

He nods in understanding and takes your hands in his.

"Trust me it's gonna be okay. Hell don't worry about him changing his mind, I've never seen someone that wipped for a girl before" he says while laughing at the last part.

A chuckle escapes your throat, which then tightens again when you heard the music start playing.

"Ok ok no panic (Y/N)" you tell yourself, trying to calm down.

You take a deep breath and nod at John, giving your ok to enter the church. He smiles at you and links his arm with yours.

You tear up at the gesture, knowing that your father would have loved to walk you down the aisle.

John had become like a father figure to you -even though he's not that much older- and you're more than grateful that he said yes to walking you into your new chapter of life.

The heavy doors open and you can see the guests standing up at the sound, all of them turning their heads to see the bride.

You take one step after another, gripping John's hand in yours. Looking around you see familiar faces like your mother and some aunts, but the most important person to you was standing at the altar.

Turning your head you lock eyes with him. Time seems to slow down as you take i the sight of him. Damn does he looks handsome. His mohawk was freshly cut and he wore a new black suit with a red tie.

It may look like a unoriginal outfit, but to you it is perfect.

A smiles forms on your face when you stand directly in front of him. John hands him your hand over and shoots a threatening look. It was the "if you ever hurt her I will personally kill you" look.

Before leaving to go to Johnny's man in honor side to stand next to Gaz and Ghost, he gives you a small kiss on your forehead, whispering "I'm proud of you" against it.

Now it was just Johnny and you. Two people that love each other more than words can describe.

The pastor says the usual things but you hear nothing. You just stare into your soon-to-be-husbands eyes, and you could swear to see tears swelling in them.

The pastor speaks up.

"It is now time for the vows"

You take a deep breath and start talking:

"Johnny, I have loved you since the moment I saw you. It was the way you introduced yourself, the way you saved my ass on many missions, it was the way you held me after my father died and it were the many things in-between. You made and still make my life perfect. I finally found a reason to life and I'm glad I get to spend the time with you. You are perfect in any way imaginable. I love you dearly and I will stay by your side in good and bad times"

Your voice cracks midway, tears streaming down your face. But it seems that your fiancé feels the same way. He doesn't hide his emotions anymore embraces the tears.

It was no his turn and he grabs your right hand and puts it on his heart.

"Dearie, you absolutely make me the happiest man alive. I'm blessed to wake up with you next to me evey day. I can't think of something better anymore. I love the way you laugh at all my stupid jokes that I tell the Lieutenant. It seems that his skull is too thick to understand our humour"

Laughter goes through the room, even Simon chuckles at the mentioning of his name.

"I love everything about you and that will never stop. Even after my death. I love you from the bottom of my heart."

You smile at him and place your hand on his cheek.

The pastor raises his hands and announces the moments you have been waiting for.

"I now announce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride"

Not waiting a second longer, Johnny pulls you by your waist and presses his lips to yours. Applause rings through the crowd and people cheer.

The kiss doesn't last long but it's perfect. Johnny then suddenly lifts you up and carries you towards the exit, and your friends and family follow.

Time skip:

The evening goes smooth. People are laughing and having fun. You are currently sitting on your husbands lap after having danced to two songs.

Head laying on his shoulder while you're admiring him, tracing every scar with your thumb.

"And how does it feel to be married"

"Feels incredible my darlin'. Absolutely the best feeling ever" You hum in response looking up to him. He catches your stare and smiles.

"I hope you won't grow tired of me Mr. Mactavish"

"I would never in my life. I promise you that Mrs. Mactavish"

You laugh and move you face to his to meet in a kiss. This time it's more passionate, full of love and excitement for what the future holds.

#cod x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty #cod fluff #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john mctavish x reader

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moonlight-prose · 9 days

Text

HURT

➝ 05. MIDNIGHT DOVE

a/n: i never thought it would take a year to finally work up the courage to finish this. i swear it's been marinating in my mind for months. life got in the way as it always does, and well shit happens, but i am gradually attempting to return to this world. if you're new here, welcome. if you're someone who has been here since the beginning, then thank you for sticking my horrible productivity out. i swear i won't disappear again. hopefully.

dedicated to: @themarcusmoreno for being an absolute badass fighter as of late. i hope you know how proud i am of you babes and how much i adore you. a special thanks to @sunflowersteves who has been a MASSIVE supporter of this story. i love you babes! and to @soulores who has listened to me ramble about this fic for hours in the hopes inspo would strike again. te amo te amo te amo!!!

summary: joel never made opening himself up to the prospect of love easy, but when it came to you...it felt like taking a breath of fresh air for the first time in years.

word count: 14k+ (i'm fucking insane)

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, cussing, fluff, joel attempting to be romantic, ptsd, grief, deep talks (joel opens up), joel finally telling the truth, p in v sex, choking kind of, roughness, biting lots of biting (both kinds hahaha), tad bit of violence, the dangers of falling in love.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

It was easy to forget how damaged you were in the midst of his affection. An effortless act to allow yourself a chance to heal as you gave yourself over to him. For brief moments, you weren’t the person who had gone through years of pain, suffered through grief so potent you could taste it. You were the person who could sink into his hold, lose yourself in his touch, and simply exist.

With Joel there was no pain, no reminders of what you didn’t have—what you could never get back—because he took all that away. He gave you the one thing you didn’t know you were searching for. Yourself. In whispered words beneath the midnight sky, you found the reflection you’d been so afraid to look at. You saw the person who had been torn apart by the brutality of this world, by the prospect of death you could no longer run from.

He pieced you back together with his hands, attempting to rid you of all those cracks and crevices where pain seeped out from.

And in doing so, he saved you.

“You used to be a contractor right?” you asked, trying not to huff and puff as you trailed after him through the woods.

Briefly you thought you caught the sight of tall buildings in the distance, but played it off as the sun messing with your eyes again. A few days ago the truck broke down, ruining the quick pace of travel you had gotten used to. Which left you both with one option. Walking until your feet were numb and bloody. You hadn’t missed the energy this took, suddenly yearning for trains and planes—anyway to get to Boston as quickly as possible.

Except you didn’t hate it entirely. The bonus was being able to spend more time with him in secluded areas. You liked studying him by firelight, talking with him underneath the stars. Joel was the one who kept you going in spite of the agonizing effort this took. Thankfully the moments you did run into any infected were brief and quick—simply another crack in the bubble you’d built around yourselves.

Something had shifted between the two of you. Changed the tides of your futures and gave you insight into what might be possible once you got to Boston. You saw hints of a life that you might not have seen before. A future with him. You only hoped that he was seeing the same picture you were.

“Mhm,” he hummed, pausing to let you catch up, his hand reaching for yours.

“Impressive,” you said with a smile, pressing your chin on his shoulder as he leaned against a tree. Giving the both of you a small breather before you started up again.

“It paid the bills.”

“Well yeah. But it’s also a cool job. Getting to build things.”

He grinned, his eyes tracing the shapes and contours of your face. “I guess it was.”

“What made you want to be a contractor?” You caught the way he paused at your question, his eyes unable to meet yours for a brief moment. Joel thought he was able to hide his pain so well, behind an impenetrable mask he never removed. But you saw it.

You were the only one who split it down the middle; revealing the man beneath for your eyes to see.

“Uh,” he mumbled. “It was good work. Kept me stable.”

“Joel? Did I say something?”

He shook his head. “We should keep going,” he said, pressing a light kiss to your temple, his lips lingering a bit longer than usual.

Any other person would play that off as Joel being Joel. Yet you felt the tremor in his chest when he took in a breath. You saw the way he placed another brick in his never-ending wall. One that he didn’t want you to break. Frowning slightly, you walked beside him, glancing to see if he would finally revert back to the man from moments ago, but he was lost to the ravages of his mind.

You knew it would take awhile for him to come back to you. So, you waited. You lost yourself in your own thoughts, watching the birds fly through the trees, the sun peeking through the branches and bathing you in warmth. Thankfully the cold was starting to fade with each passing day. Giving way to the weather you liked most. You wanted to ask Joel where you were—which state you crossed into—but he was still gone.

Reliving the moment he hadn’t told you about yet.

You stopped when the forest gave way to a road and finally caught sight of what was in the distance. Only to realize…the sun hadn’t been playing tricks on you.

Skyscrapers stood tall against the sky, the cityscape so famous and iconic you could pick it out from memory. It was ruined from the past, some buildings had fallen from the decay, but you felt your heart flutter nonetheless. New York City. You’d been traveling through the state this whole time and never knew. Your younger self ached in the back of your mind; the one place you had been striving to get to, now arriving too late.

Yet still…you were there. Staring at what could have been your future once upon a time.

“We’re in New York,” you said, your voice tinged in disbelief.

Joel seemed to have been brought back by your stunned reaction, his lips pulling up into a small smirk. “Thought you would have liked to take this way.”

You whirled around to face him, your eyes wide with surprise. “But what about infected? Won’t they be—”

“They bombed most of the city when the infection hit. Took out the worst parts first.” He pointed to the direction of where you assumed the Empire State building once stood. “No one has been here for nearly a decade. They tried to have a QZ on the outskirts at one point I think.”

“And how did that go?” Although you already knew the answer. Simply another repeat of every major city in this country.

He sighed. “They wound up bombing that too.”

“So we’re going around?” you asked, knowing that the only safe possibility was skirting the edges of the city. But a part of you hoped that for once you and Joel could pretend to be normal humans again.

People who at one point in their lives…might have taken a trip to New York City.

“Well…” His hesitation caught your attention. “We’re gonna go around as much as we can, but there’s somethin’ there that still survived all this. So if we’re careful. Then it should be alright.”

You felt the breath catch in your chest. A sliver of hope flickering warm and bright through your body. “And if it’s not…alright?”

“Then we handle it,” he replied, his hand shifting to cup your cheek, thumb running along your skin. “Like we always do.” Those words alone nearly made those three words slip free from your mouth. “What do you say Boston,” he murmured, his head dipping down—lips brushing along yours. “Wanna take a trip to New York with me?”

There were infected everywhere you went, never being able to escape them entirely. That alone weighed your answer towards it being positive. Still you were wary about what could happen. What could go wrong in the midst of your happiness? It seemed that life never changed when things were already awful. The worst only hit when you were finally at peace, content with what you had.

You should have said no, should have told him it wasn’t safe, but his brown eyes held a hopeful glint in them. A look that you recognized. For the first time, the both of you were finally starting to heal from the horrid effects of this life. It was a tragedy that would never be written down. A play not yet finished.

Which ultimately made the decision for you.

How did you want things to end? With a smile on your face, spending time with the man you loved? Or alone.

“Lead the way Texas,” you said softly, dropping your forehead to his chest, feeling him kiss your head softly before he pulled away.

The trip to get into the city would take a day or two, which meant that you had to set up camp for the night. At least until the sun rose enough to guide you. Venturing back into the forest with him, you felt the lightness in your heart spread down throughout your body. A sensation that you longed to hold onto.

You couldn’t recall the last time you’d been this happy; the feeling almost effortless amidst the pain and destruction of your past. It nearly overflowed, spilling out into the area around you filled with never ending darkness. Joel’s footsteps were heavy against the fallen leaves. As if he was no longer afraid to make noise. Now that the path was clear, his head focused on one direction, you by his side.

Things had shifted drastically since that night. Since you watched a piece of his walls crash to the ground. Giving you a chance to finally see the man he had once been. The Joel you had only met in fragments—memories you weren’t a part of.

A past that you’d never fully know.

“This is as good a place as any,” he said, dropping the bag off his shoulders and onto the ground beside a tree.

“Should I gather wood?” you asked, following his movements—the routine burned into your mind.

He shook his head. “Not tonight. We’re too close to the city.”

“You don’t think people are insane enough to live there, do you?”

The silence he offered was enough of an answer. Even though you were both far enough away from any signs of life, it still wasn’t safe to assume you were entirely free. You could see Joel grappling with the decision to even go down there, but you knew which side would win the war in the end. One side told him to avoid the place altogether, to keep trekking on until you reached the QZ in Boston. But the other whispered something different.

It beckoned him closer, promising something sweet, a reprieve from the terrors of life that continued to plague both of you. Whatever still remained in that city was enough for him to choose the latter.

“I’ll keep first watch,” he murmured, settling with his back to a tree, rifle placed across his thighs.

“Joel.”

He shook his head. “You need to sleep.”

“So do you,” you replied, in the hopes that he’d relent to you as he had before.

The dark lines beneath his eyes grew with every passing day and you wondered what kept him from sleep. Was it nightmares? The prospect of death around every corner? They were things that were enough to send terror running sharply down your spine, but as long as you’d known Joel he seemed to simply take those things in stride. Refusing to give life the satisfaction of watching him crumble beneath the strain.

Yet now he looked half dead; tired of fighting an infinite battle of fear.

“Come here,” you said softly, hand gripping onto his.

“Darlin’—”

“If you don’t sleep then, so help me Joel I will stay up with you.”

The threat held enough truth in it to spur him into action. You would stay up with him until dawn crested over the city, until you could no longer keep your eyes open. Joel had stamina you didn’t possess. Not anymore. So, he allowed you to guide him forward, his head resting on his pack, rifle placed between your bodies. A safety measure in case the night turned for the worst.

“Shut your eyes,” you murmured, seeing the tension in his body melt away the second your hand pressed to his chest.

He huffed—ever the stubborn man who saved your life—but relented without a fight, his eyes fluttering shut quickly followed by a long exhale. The stars were brighter than you’d seen them; the light pollution of the city, no longer a problem the sky had to combat. So, you shifted, rested your head on his shoulder and watched the stars twinkle in a night sky free from the shackles of humanity.

“You’re supposed to sleep too,” he grumbled, his hand coming up to cover yours, thumb running along your wrist.

“I am.” You smiled at his audible snort.

Silence enveloped the two of you, but it never felt off putting in his presence. In fact you began to welcome it, because with Joel there was always more than just words. His thumb continued to go across your skin, creating a soothing rhythm that lulled you into a docile state. If you shut your eyes and focused on the beat of his heart—the rise and fall of his chest with each breath—you might be able to fall asleep. Except your mind still ran, still on high alert in case of something going wrong.

“Hey,” he mumbled, his head turning slightly until his nose brushed against yours.

“Hm?” You felt your heart skip at the sight of his eyes opening again, the deep brown hue pulling you in.

“What’s goin’ on in there?” he whispered. Joel didn’t need to go into specifics to know what he meant by that. You seemed to pick it up just by the inflection of his words—the tone he used when he spoke. This was no different.

You sighed, wishing more than anything that you could strip your shoulders of the weight they carried. “Nothing. I’m just…it’s nothing.”

“It ain’t nothin’.”

“I’m just…scared,” you said, finally showing a sliver of the truth. He hummed, attempting to show that he understood where you were coming from. “What happens when we get to Boston?”

Because that’s where that gnawing feeling stemmed from. It wasn’t your fear of death, or the terror you felt whenever you thought of Joel dying. No, you were scared of what the future held—what came when this trip finally came to an end. You didn’t want to let him go after everything you’d endured together. For the first time you felt like you found the one thing anyone could hope for in life. A partnership.

He sighed. “We keep going.”

“Together?” There you were laying your hope in front of him, wanting him to give you the answer you longed for.

“Yes,” he replied, watching a smile cross your face—his heart beating a bit faster at the sight. It lit him up on the inside. As if someone injected him with a heaping dose of pure sunlight, claiming it would fix all his broken pieces. Save him from hell.

For a moment you simply watched him, seeing an array of emotions flicker through his eyes. You wanted the night to remain endless. For you and Joel to stay there until the stars burned out above—a safe place with no responsibilities. No fear of death. But you knew eventually you would have to get up and follow him into the city. Boston remained right at the very tips of your fingers, yet getting there felt like a million miles away.

“Joel?” you breathed, bringing him out of his mind and back to the present day.

“Yeah?”

“Tell me something.” You clutched his hand in yours, enjoying the warmth that emanated from his skin. “Anything.”

He turned away, looking up at the sky as he processed your words. And you waited patiently. You found that you’d wait for him no matter how long it took, because it was him and to you…he was everything. He was worth fighting for, worth staying put for. He let out a shaky breath, his grip tightening on your palm until pain sparked in your wrist. You didn’t dare pull away though, too captured by the vulnerability that began to show on his face.

For the first time, he was the glass you couldn’t break.

“I had a daughter,” he said softly, still watching how the stars flickered above rather than the way your face went slack with shock. “Sarah.”

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes falling to the broken watch on his wrist as tears began to fall from your eyes. That night when you asked about it—watched him close up right before your very eyes—suddenly made sense. Why he never took it off, why it was the most precious thing to him.

It was from her.

“She was…well she is the best damn thing in my life.” He shut his eyes, his eyes stinging with the tears that couldn’t fall. You didn’t dare interrupt him. Joel was baring the part he’d hidden long ago—offering it to you in the hopes that you’d take care of it. “Had the prettiest smile and the best—” He took in a breath. “The best fuckin’ laugh you’d ever heard. Made everyone else laugh.”

You smiled, feeling your tears fall onto his shirt. “She sounds amazing.”

“She is,” he rasped, his hand pulling yours up higher on his chest until you could feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingers. “On the night of the outbreak. We were tryin’ to get out. But something…” His voice broke, eyes squeezing even tighter. “I couldn’t—and she—”

“Oh Joel,” you whispered, your eyes falling shut as his pain seeped into your heart. It made your whole body scream out and for a moment you wondered how his heart never stopped beating. How had he survived such anguish? How was he still here?

You bit back the sob that threatened to spill free and buried your face into his shoulder, clutching onto his hand to show that you were here. That he could give you this pain to hold and you’d bear it for him for however long he needed. His face turned, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he let the words hang in the air. What more needed to be said? When he had just ripped down the last of his walls.

“I’m so sorry.” The words were a breath on his cheek and you knew they wouldn’t take away any amount of grief. You knew they were simply a band-aid to the gaping wound that would never heal.

He didn’t reply; you didn’t expect him to. So you allowed the silence to fill the air between you, covering you like a comforting blanket. Hiding you from the world until the sun came up. Joel pulled you closer until you practically lay atop his chest, the steady thud of his broken heart echoing beneath your ear. The world had taken so much from him—turned him hopeless—you just never knew the extent of it.

Staring into the darkness of the trees you heard him begin to snore softly, his body now lax beneath you. Except you didn’t move. You remained in the same spot, watching as the world turned a bit darker. The hope seeped out of your body bit by bit now that you understood how much Joel carried—how much he endured.

“I love you,” you breathed, pressing a kiss over his heart, finally shutting your eyes and giving into the soft embrace of sleep.

You woke up to find him gone, his jacket placed strategically over your body to keep you protected from the early morning cold. What you wouldn’t give for a fire to combat the chill that began to seep into your skin. Sitting up slowly, you attempted to catch sight of him through the trees—hoping that he had wandered a bit. But you were left alone with just your pack and his extra gun.

Scenarios began to run through your mind, panic settling in your veins, but you fought against it. You’d been here before. Alone while Joel went off to do who knows what. You knew he would come back—that was a given—but you couldn’t stop the worry from eating at you.

You watched your breath collect in the air as you moved, gathering pieces of wood and rocks to build a fire for a short amount of time. If you were moving today it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to warm up and gain some strength through food. If Joel wasn’t back within the hour you would go out hunting. He’d been generous enough to leave you with a few bullets still in the chamber of his gun.

Which meant he had full intentions of coming back.

The fire sparked quicker than you expected, catching on the brush you packed around the wood and sending heat up towards your face. You couldn’t burn it for long, in case people caught sight of the smoke. Which meant you had to relish in the heat for as long as possible—the stiffness in your body dissipating the longer you sat there.

You watched the orange glow flicker across the wood, consuming it entirely and found you couldn’t tear your eyes away. The sight was familiar—as if you could feel it against your skin with every passing day. Life burned through you with swift brutality and for that mere moment you wondered if it would hurt if you fully sunk into it. Allowed it to destroy you as the flame did the wood that now sat cracked into two pieces—the charred bark falling onto the ground.

A rustling echoed behind you, making you reach for the gun, but the sight of Joel’s graying hair peeking through the woods sent relief flooding through your body. He carried a rabbit in one hand, clutching onto the rifle with the other, and you felt yourself relax just a bit more. Body sinking back into the spot you’d made, legs crossed and hands hovering over the flames.

“Breakfast?” he asked, crouching beside you.

“Don’t mind if I do.” You grinned, pressing your chin against his shoulder briefly, soaking up the warmth of his body.

You couldn’t see his face, but you could feel the smile being pressed against your temple. His lips a soft brush across your skin. If time was kind, you’d be able to stay there. Sitting in the comfort of his presence—the worry that plagued you now pushed to the very back of your mind. It was rare to feel this okay in the comfort of someone else, but Joel made it easy. You wanted to thank him for simply being here, but the words were stuck in your head. Unable to be released.

“How long until we go?” you asked, watching as he cooked the animal over the flames, your stomach clenching painfully.

“Soon as we’re done here.”

The trip into the city wasn’t by any means safe. In fact you were certain it was the most dangerous thing you would attempt in your journey to the Boston QZ. For so long you’d played it safe, but Joel had plans and you would follow his lead wherever he went.

Perhaps it was ridiculous to say you loved him now. In a world where the small hints of anything good were smothered before they could bloom into something more. Except you couldn’t deny what your heart knew was true—what it had been holding onto for months. You loved him. Possibly more than you could ever love someone, and that’s what scared you. Sent a sick feeling into your stomach, your heart twisting violently in your chest at the thought.

Traveling through the city was lethal—a death sentence—but you soon realized it wasn’t the most dangerous thing you could do.

Falling in love in a world intent on destruction was the true risk. Because whether you liked it or not, your entire life could come crashing down in an instant if you lost the man beside you.

Joel was your oxygen. The sole reason you were still alive. You couldn’t lose him.

You both ate in silence, an act that had become sacred to you as time went on. Just a small piece of normalcy that remained—something to remember your old lives by. While you couldn’t necessarily sit at a table and savor the meal. Both of you were content with this. A small amount of peace before chaos ensued once more.

The city called to you—beckoned you closer—and you had to be careful not to give in. There was an unspoken rule in all the traveling you’d had with one another. Joel was the leader in this situation and you were to follow what he said; after all he was simply trying to keep the both of you alive. So you did just that. You waited for him to finish eating and explain exactly how this was going to go down.

“You know…” You picked at the grass beneath you. “I’ve been thinking about what comes next.”

His eyes raised to meet your gaze—the once hardened stare now softened to something you now knew to be familiar. A look he only carried when he was around you. You felt something tug at your chest, warm and inviting.

“I want a home,” you said softly, twirling a dandelion between your fingers. “If that’s a possibility.”

The corners of his lips pulled upwards and you nearly missed the sight. But once you caught it…you couldn’t look away. Joel smiling was a rarity—this you knew to be a hard fact—but when he did the world lit up around him. His smile felt safe. As if he kept every ounce of love given to him in that single look.

“Could be a possibility,” he replied, shifting to where his arm was behind you—his weight leaning on it. “Got a place in mind?”

Heat bloomed beneath your cheeks, small petals of the dandelion flying off. “Nothing too fancy. Big enough for us and…well…it has to be just right.”

Perhaps your mind was playing a trick on you, creating fantastical sights that felt too good to be true, but Joel's smile deepened. A soft light entered his eyes for a brief moment, effectively stealing the breath right from your lungs. He was so beautiful when he smiled. As if he was gifted with it from the gods themselves—his own secret power at the end of the day.

"A house huh."

You nodded, still stunned in place as his smile remained intact. "I miss having a home."

Five words. That's all it took for light to be extinguished like a flame being put out. Sorrow seeped back into his face, his smile faltered, and you felt the world shift beneath your feet. Whatever you said triggered something in his mind. It dragged the memory to the front and forced him to watch with no escape. You know...because you'd been in his place before; you had been a victim to the horror of your own life, privy to the movie that never had an end.

The difference was with Joel you could do nothing but watch.

There was no pulling him out of it, no distracting him, because the memory had already started. So you sat in silence, waiting for it to run its course. Until Joel returned back to you. His smile was gone, face grim once more, and grief stained his soul. But you'd take him any way he was. You'd take him damaged and ruined beyond repair, as he would with you.

"We should get moving soon," he said, voice lower than before, eyes glassy with tears that would never fall.

You let out a breath as your heart sank deeper in your chest. "I'll put out the fire."

He didn't question you or even try to stop you. He simply let you do what you thought was best. Gathering his jacket and gun, he helped you to your feet, the furrow between his brows now set back in place. For a moment...he looked younger than his actual age. A man from the past peeked out, but nothing stayed the same for long.

Nothing good ever stuck.

"Once we get to the edge of the city we'll be out in the open for anyone to see." He slung his pack over his shoulder, handing you a knife to stick in your pocket as an extra precaution for what was to come. "You know I only have one rule darlin'."

Now felt like the perfect time to make a joke—to bring back his smile—but the serious tone of his voice lingered in the air. A reminder that you may be able to take care of yourself on your own, but traveling with Joel now meant you had his life to worry about too.

That alone was something you couldn't risk.

"Follow your lead."

He nodded. "We should be alright, but just in case stick close."

"I will." The idea that you'd stray far from him was ridiculous and he knew it, but the words had to be said. For his own peace of mind.

Somewhere in the middle of the trees there remained an old hiking path. A memoriam of the years that came before, and yet you couldn't picture tourists taking this road. Not even their footprints would survive twenty years of nature. No, this small but distinct path was carved by people traveling towards Boston. You liked to imagine that they made it eventually; that their lives went on in the QZ without issue. But reality always held a harsher reflection than you expected.

Twigs snapped beneath your boots as you trailed beside Joel, eyes set on what remained of the city skyline. Proof that humanity once lived on this planet.

"They'll be deeper inside the city lines," Joel said, dragging your attention away from the ruin. "It's likely there ain't been people for years. But we can’t be sure."

"No reason for activity then?"

He sighed, squinting his eyes against the blaring sunlight. "I'm not sayin' there'll be less. But we might not encounter them much if we’re lucky."

A small amount of relief spread through your chest, pushing against the constant fear that ate at your heart. Devouring it as if you were the meal it had been waiting for. A delicacy of the human body.

"Better than nothing."

He made a noise of agreement, taking the lead and heading deeper into the woods. Eventually they would become sparse, giving the both of you less coverage, until they disappeared altogether. Two decades was plenty of time for nature to reclaim parts of the city, but the cement and stone still remained. A permanent fixture of what used to be in front of you.

The city that used to never sleep, now forced to rest forever.

In the distance you swore you could hear the now familiar screech that haunted your dreams. But it was too far out for you to make out. So you followed Joel, the sun beating down on both of you even through the trees. Sweat stuck to the back of your neck, your fingers slippery on the trigger of your gun. And you both walked in silence—focused on your surroundings. Too anxious to even allow yourselves to whisper.

Yet with Joel it never felt like you were losing time.

How could you? When he was giving back what you lost.

No one else would do this. No one would bother to make sure that you got a chance to visit the city you dreamed about, the place where your future was supposed to be. But he would.

Joel would have given you the sun if you asked him to—if only to see you smile.

Your words from last night continued to rise to the surface, placing themselves on the tip of your tongue, and begging you to open your mouth. Yet as much as you wanted to stand atop the tallest building in the city and shout it from the top of your lungs, you knew you couldn't.

Those words remained hidden in your chest like a wound that could never truly heal. A gaping hole that forced you to bleed out each time you acknowledged its presence.

The sad part was that Joel wasn't the one to rip it open. He was simply someone who managed to stir it awake. He brought it to life with just one look. You started bleeding years ago with loss after loss, until eventually...you stopped trying to close it up with cheap booze and an even cheaper version of what you ached for.

What you needed to sustain you.

"You never told me," Joel said abruptly, shutting down those thoughts within seconds. "About your life."

You smiled despite the effort and lack of breath. "There's not much to tell."

"I doubt that darlin'." He fell into step with you, his hand brushing across yours gently, but even you knew holding hands wasn't a luxury you could afford right now. Not when you'd have to run at a moment's notice. "What was college like?"

Scoffing, you adjusted the strap of your pack. "Parties, hangovers, and lots of coffee."

"Sounds 'bout right."

"Why Joel Miller. Don't tell me you went to college."

He leaned into you, his shoulder hitting yours with enough force to throw you slightly off course. "I didn't. My brother Tommy did. Well...he enrolled."

"Ah yes. The infamous Miller," you joked, grabbing onto his arm to steady yourself.

He snorted, wrapping it around your waist instead. "I wouldn't call him that."

"Then tell me about him."

His eyes met yours, grief still pressing against the light that once was there, but you could see something else linger below. A sense of joy that only came when talking about his younger sibling. A relief that he had family still alive, still around for him to worry about. You knew the fear remained that one day...he might not have that person to worry about, that the world would remain just as cruel as before.

That thought hit you harder than you would have liked—the face of your own brother flashing in your mind. You couldn't save him. Shit, you barely even knew if he was still alive or dead. And that in itself was a different type of grief; a horror you wouldn't wish on anyone.

Least of all Joel.

"He was in the army."

A fallen tree came into view, blocking the path. Joel climbed over it first, grunting as he jumped down, his feet slamming hard when he landed. He took your hand as you went next, helping you go softer than him, checking with a glance to make sure you hadn't snagged yourself on the split wood.

You recall your own brother enlisting, although your mother used to claim you were too young to remember the day he left. But you could make out the hazy images of tear filled goodbyes and hugs that lasted longer than normal. He joined to find purpose. You understood that now.

"Nearly gave our parents a heart attack when he came home with the news." Joel huffed, his hand still clasped tightly around yours. "But Tommy was eighteen. And damn stubborn."

You tried to picture the other Miller as you did when Joel first mentioned him, yet still came up blank. They must look alike. Maybe the same nose, or jaw. No matter how hard you tried though, you could see nothing but a faceless man—a blank slate to the one Joel spoke of so fondly.

"He's younger than you?"

Joel nodded. "By a few years."

The thought of Joel trying to be a good role model for his brother made you smile. You wondered if they ever got into trouble together, if there were stories he might tell you one day when you finally found a safe place to live.

"So...he was the troublemaker of the family."

His gaze slid over to you, eyebrow arching slightly in faux surprise. "I wouldn't say that."

You grinned. “Let me guess…” Joel’s hand tightened around yours. “You were the responsible brother.”

“I had to be.”

“He sounds fun. Maybe I should have met him first.” Glancing to your side, you didn’t see as his face darkened. A look of something wild crossed his face, the painful grip on your hand bringing you back as he yanked you forward. “Joel—”

Unexpected. That is what you continued to feel each time Joel kissed you. Unexpected in his action, unexpected in the feelings he buried beneath the rubble of his heart. You felt yourself stumble into his chest, his lips sliding against your roughly, as he gave into that wild unknown sensation.

A hunger that consumed him quickly. Larger than anything he’d known before.

He exhaled, pulling away with reluctance, and you nearly moved forward to take back that fleeting euphoria. His thumb and forefinger pinching your chin lightly kept you in place. Until you opened your eyes—catching his gaze. Want burned in his iris—turning the deep brown a shade of black—but something darker peeked out, a possessive glint. A promise that you were his.

“Trust me darlin’,” he murmured, lips pulling up into a small grin. Your stomach fluttered rapidly at the sight of his eyes sliding down to your lips—his tongue running along his bottom lip. You wanted it in your mouth. “You’ve got the better brother.”

That remained clear the second you met him. But the tease still lingered in the air. A hint of irritation plucked at Joel’s heart as he thought about you and Tommy instead. If there’s one thing he knew it was this: Tommy would make you laugh as often as possible. He wouldn’t quit until he saw joy overtake the grief on your face. But something told him you needed more than humor.

Even as you looked at him like that—eyes soft and hazy with need—he still felt the innate need to prove himself. To show that he was it for you; that no matter what happened next, Joel was going to be yours.

His face darkened and you longed to peel away the layers of murkiness that hid his true feelings.

But that was the thing about Joel. He’d never show you outright what he kept beneath the surface—not unless he was telling you himself.

His hand took yours again, a small kiss pressed to your temple as he started walking. Towards a future so tangible you could almost feel it between your fingertips. How it ebbed and flowed despite the endless mountain ridges you were yet to traverse.

There was no telling where it dropped off. Where this future finally settled, but regardless of what happened, you’d remain. You would choose Joel over and over again, even if this path led to your death. As long as he was safe—as long as he survived. To you Joel was the only thing you could save—having given up on yourself years ago.

You were two broken souls, but given the chance, you’d piece him back together.

You could see that the path veered back towards the forest, probably to some old forgotten campgrounds. A part of you nearly asked him to head that way, but you stopped before you started. The realization dawned on you quicker than you would have liked. How many people never made it home? How many lost parts of humanity still remained in a place meant solely for joy?

A cold unsettling feeling burrowed its way into your stomach, nausea rising quickly to the surface. Everywhere you looked, death stared back with an empty gaze.

A promise already embedded too deep to remove.

This is how it was always meant to go. This is where it would always lead to.

Joel couldn’t see the terror stricken expression across your face. You were in too deep to ask him for a rescue anyways. So you simply remained. Entrenched in the thick darkness. Yet your feet still moved, your body still complied. He led you closer and closer to the outskirts of the city. And where you expected fear to arise, you found nothing but numbness.

An echo of pain that called out to you. How could you fear what you already knew? The infected were no longer the embodiment of your worst horror come to life.

No, that title now belonged to the man holding your hand so gently in his. Squeezing every few minutes in an act of unconscious reassurance. His fate, his life, it all twisted together until you could barely catch your breath.

He turned to glance at you over his shoulder, his lips curving into a soft smile, the lines around his eyes deeper than before. You nearly gasped as you were yanked out of the darkness, warm air brushing across your face. For those few seconds you felt the sunlight against your face. The worries melted away and this is what you were left with.

Pure broken love.

“Tired?” he asked, oblivious to the way you were drowning.

You grinned, moving closer. “Not really.”

“We got a few more hours.”

Perfect.

You didn’t say it aloud, but you could see the sentiment was reflected back in his eyes. He wanted this as much as you. Where the world only existed in time spent alone. Where nothing could harm you here in your infinite haven with him.

Returning his smile, you squeezed his hand softly, doing what you could to burn the feel of his calloused skin into your mind. Whether it took a few hours or a few days, you didn’t mind. As long as it was with him.

Silence.

That’s all you heard throughout a city once plagued by noise. Where thousands of people used to live—creating the hustle and bustle of the city that used to never rest, now an echoey hollowness remained. At last…the city was asleep. And you hated it.

Life should spill out of every crack and crevice of this place, but there was nothing. You felt as if you should grieve for what once was, but no emotions rose to the surface. Instead you were faced with a bottomless pit of something that once existed.

Joel’s hand was replaced with your weapons, his gun clutched tightly in his own grip. You remained on the outskirts, but that didn’t mean you were safe. If anything you were in more danger this out in the open. There should have been something by now. Yet it seemed that fate had a different idea altogether.

In a way, you were beyond thankful, but uncertainty still remained. A reminder that this would only last for so long. Fate offered what it could, and you took without a second thought. There would never be another chance like this—never another moment of peace.

Sweat stuck to the back of your neck as you walked, eyes scanning the area like clockwork. Joel was a few paces ahead, his body tense, finger on the trigger in case of the worst. You hoped it would never come. Neither of you spoke for fear that whatever remained in the abandoned buildings could hear you. The air was sticky with heat and you felt your body begin to dry out the longer the both of you traveled.

“We can rest up ahead,” he called over his shoulder as if your thoughts were projected to him.

“Do you know where we’re going?”

It’s not that you didn’t trust him—you did—but wandering in the city felt like a risk you shouldn’t be taking more than a trip of enjoyment.

“I’ve got an idea.”

You scoffed. “That’s helpful.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t trust me now Boston,” he drawled with a halfway grin across his face.

“It’s kind of late for that…Texas.”

“No shit.”

You did your best to hold back the laugh that bubbled to the surface, but there was no use. You couldn’t stop it now. Joel looked surprised for a split second, his lips parting into a wide smile, until he began to laugh with you. Deep and rough and perfectly Joel.

This. This is what you ached for most. Joy—no matter how small—in a time where the concept no longer existed. If you could bring that to each other even as you fought to survive then you’d be okay.

In the near distance you could see it, a small section of benches surrounded by nothing but overgrown bushes, flower patches, and trees that would have never been allowed to grow that tall. A sense of elation filled your chest at the sight of a park. So out in the open, so mundane in a city quickly being overtaken by nature. Ivy trailed up the buildings as if that alone kept the ruins together, but you’d never seen something so beautiful.

“I got some food left over,” he muttered, rummaging in his pack as you took a seat on a bench covered by vines. “Nothin’ much, but it’ll work till we dig up somethin’ else.”

You took it gratefully, taking in the area with wonder as you caught every small piece that might show a hint of the past. Shop signs were broken off, rubble scattered through the streets, and abandoned cars were lined up like barriers to the inside of buildings. Perhaps people had come through here before, trapping the infected inside as they made their way through the city quickly.

“Do you remember what it was like?”

He threw a quick glance over his shoulder, catching sight of the coffee shop sign you were fixated on—half of it gone and broken on the asphalt. Everything here had been destroyed over the years. Taken, ripped a part, and left to rot. Yet the cracks in the streets where plants grew told Joel that life still found a way to flourish. Even as darkness and cruelty became the figurehead of humanity.

“Loud,” he said, biting into the dusty granola bar.

You smiled, shifting to make room for him as he joined you on the bench. “So I’ve heard. The city that never sleeps. I guess it was named that for a reason.”

“People were crammed into every corner.” He pointed up to a building in the distance. Surprisingly it hadn’t collapsed yet. “I stayed there. Fourth floor.”

“Hotel?”

He nodded. “Expensive as shit.”

“That tracks.”

“But I had fun.” He grinned, eyes distant as if replaying moments of his past, reliving what it was like to be in this city at the height of its prime. “Tommy wanted to move here. After the army.”

“Did you…want to go with him?”

Joel huffed, eyes falling to his hands as he broke apart the granola bar—anxiety bleeding off his body and seeping into yours. “No. That life was his. Not mine.”

Counting in your head, you tried to calculate at what age Joel might have been when Tommy came home. What might have happened in his life. Until the conversation from earlier came back to you like a fist to your face. Sarah. You tried to picture him as a young dad, raising a little girl, and suddenly the gap between your years and his felt like a chasm you shouldn’t cross.

A split in the ground so deep you could see right down to the center of the Earth.

“And to think,” you replied, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I could have met you here.”

His laugh was shadowed by pain—grief he’d never let you see in its entirety. “You wouldn’t have gone for me.”

“That’s not true.”

“What with you bein’ a fancy museum worker?” He turned, his nose brushing against yours. “Gettin’ you to look twice at me would have taken some effort.”

You smiled, stealing a kiss. “You’re wrong. I’d have asked you out in an instant if I saw you. Maybe…in a bar.” His laugh was soft, raspy as if he’d been shouting for hours. “Or a park.”

“Yeah?” You wanted to keep his smile. “How would it go?”

“Well…” Pulling back, you pressed a finger to your chin, eyebrows pulling together as you pretended to lose yourself in thought. “I’d begin the conversation, because you’re not much of a talker.” He pinched your side, drawing out a laugh.

“And you’d say?”

Forcing your face into a stoic expression, you grasped his shoulders. “Excuse me sir. Are you a fan of country music?”

He snorted, his body shaking as he broke between your palms. Laughing so hard he nearly dropped his granola bar on the floor. If you closed your eyes, you could imagine the sounds of the city in the background. The echo of what could have been reverberating to you through the years.

This would be it. The moment you knew you were head over heels for the man sitting beside you.

This is where you’d start to plan a future.

“And you’d say…of course, I’m from Texas darlin’.” You did your best to morph your voice into his, but couldn’t get through it without smiling.

Joel cupped your chin, tugging your lips close enough to feel them brush across his—your heart now beating an unsteady rhythm in your chest. “Of course.”

“And I’d say…that’s funny. I’m from Boston.” Sadness seeped into your heart when he looked at you like that—as if you were the only person to exist on this planet. His hope. His lifeline. “And the rest is history.”

He pressed his lips against yours, stealing a kiss soft enough to crack off another splinter of your heart. “I like that version of history.”

“Me too,” you breathed, biting down hard on your bottom lip to keep the sting of tears at bay.

You could feel the pain in your feet begin to shoot through your lower back. Traveling steadily with each step. From what you could tell, the sun was dipping into mid afternoon, still early in the day, but late enough to cause worry. Staying in the city past nightfall didn’t bode well for either of you. Yet somehow…you were traveling deeper into the maze of fallen buildings and broken roads.

“Joel—”

He stopped in the middle of the road, his back straight and shoulders tense. You braced yourself for the worst, hands grabbing tightly onto the weapon clutched to your chest. A small chirp of birds sounded in the distance, animals echoing their sentiments back to the broken world around them. Yet nothing sounded dangerous enough to cause worry.

“What is it?”

Glancing back at you, he threw you a cautionary smile, head tilting as if to say join me.

So you followed his instruction. Stepping around the cracks in the street to stand close, facing him as he looked at something behind you.

“We’re here.”

Confusion lined your face, worry filtering through your chest. “Where’s…here?”

“Turn around.”

His hands grasped your shoulders, shifting you until you were staring at the building he was. And for a moment you nearly laughed; claimed it was a good joke walking you nowhere. Only for your eyes to catch sight of the cracked and broken steps before you. Weeds grew between what still remained and the front was blown to shit, but you’d recognize this building even with your eyes closed.

The final destination in the path of your old future.

“The Met?” you whispered, eyes wide in awe at the sight of such a grand building torn to bits.

He pressed his lips to your ear. “Thought you might want to see it in person this time.”

Those three words you uttered last night, barely spoken at all, suddenly felt too small to describe the depth of what you felt. You didn’t just love Joel. You would die for him. You’d take any pain he harbored and carry it as your own. And you’d do all this…because he’d do the exact same for you. Love felt too little in the grand scheme of things.

How could you simply love someone who would bring you the future and lay it at your feet?

“Is it safe?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, tinged by awe.

“Probably not.”

“So we could die?”

“There’s a good chance.”

You smiled, tangling his hand in yours. “I think it’s worth it.”

“Yeah.” He squeezed your palm softly. “I do too.”

Carefully he led you up the steps. A walk that felt surreal after years of dreaming this exact moment. You knew one day you’d get here. Whether that was with a degree and a resume in your hand, or holding the hand of a man who saved you. You didn’t care, because finally…there you stood.

Ivy crawled up the sides of the building, the doors were no longer attached, and you felt as if you were walking into a different universe. The entrance that you’d seen in brochures and pictures somehow looked prettier this way; slowly being captured by the hands of nature. As she shifted the land of humans to her point of view.

The almost crystalline marble shone differently in the direct sunlight. Glancing up you caught sight of the hole in the ceiling. This building must have been affected by the bombing.

“I remember this part,” he said suddenly, an awestruck expression painted across his face. He looked like a young man again, taking his first visit to this grand old museum.

“This is called The Great Hall. And it was Richard Morris Hunt that was the architect on the project. One hundred years ago. Well give or take a few years.”

A stream of words left your mouth without a single thought. Explanations of the different parts that once existed, the historical references for how they were built. And for a moment you felt nineteen again. Fresh out of an art history class; the knowledge once again at the forefront of your mind.

All the while Joel watched with a glint in his eyes, silent to what you had to say, yet focused entirely on you. The museum wasn’t important to him. Hell he barely gave a shit about what used to be here. But something changed in your demeanor as you spoke about art and the history attached to it. You bloomed before his very eyes.

You came alive.

“I wonder if a few of the paintings are still around,” you murmured, eyes averting to one side of the room. “Could we…”

He nodded, readying his gun. “We can try.”

You expected this place to be crawling with infected. At least a few here and there, yet nothing but silence greeted you with each new room you entered. It became unnerving after a while. As if fate was waiting to drop the other shoe, tearing apart something already special.

Hesitation lingered in each step you took, fear crawling along your nerves like a spider, until you entered a room filled with paintings torn apart. Once upon a time it was a gallery, yet now the delicate pieces of history were nothing but a reminder of what happened.

Tucked away on a side wall, you found a painting still hanging. A small crack went through the top corner of the glass covering it, but as a whole the piece remained pristine enough to make out.

“You know that one?” he asked, following your quick pace through the room.

“Allegory of the Planets and Continents.”

“Allegory huh?”

You nodded. “Painted by Tiepolo in…1752.”

“I can’t say I’ve heard of him.”

“He did a lot of allegorical pieces.” You tilted your head, eyes tracing the intricate details that were nearly lost to time. Joel did the same. “I remember seeing this in a class presentation.”

He hummed, his gaze finding its way back to you. “And what does it mean?”

“A number of things really.” You pointed to the center. “That’s Apollo. And those are the gods as a representation of the planets. Mars, Jupiter, Venus. You know.”

“And them?”

You sighed. “Humanity.” His hand found its way towards yours, fingers twining together as you stood there. Alone in a museum together. “They’re waiting for Apollo to take to the skies and bring about the sun.”

“Seems like a lot of work for a God.”

The smile that crossed your face made Joel’s chest tighten. “I guess it was. Although it’s strange. Back then people were waiting for the sun and now…well now we wait for death.”

Pain flared in his heart quickly and without warning. But he did his best to force it down, steadying himself in your hold. Oh how he wished he could tell you the truth. About the past he had yet to accept as his own. About the bullet that never met its mark—the hand that remained unsteady even now.

“We should go soon,” you said, pulling him out of his own mind, and he nearly thanked you. “The sun will be going down eventually.”

He nodded. “Go out the way we came.”

It hurt to say goodbye to a building you’d never been in before. But that’s not where the pain stemmed from. You’d said goodbye to the prospect of what if a long time ago. You had to. This was from losing such a precious moment with Joel—a memory you’d hold onto for as long as you could. For that time…you were simply two people wandering the halls of a museum together. Finally on a date after so long traveling.

Maybe if you had met years before in a bar or in a park. You wouldn’t have to say goodbye.

The sunlight felt different back on the steps, brighter, crueler. As if Apollo was mocking you for such a small hope, such a small dream come to life. Yet even now you couldn’t blame him.

You headed back the way you came through the city. But your feet were weary, your body drooped with each step, and eventually you’d collapse on the asphalt just as the buildings once did. Joel could tell with each look he threw your way, checking to make sure you were in fact following him. He wouldn’t have put it past you to remain in that building.

To make a home with history.

“We can’t sleep here,” he said, pausing to let you catch your breath.

“I know. My feet just…”

He nodded solemnly, squinting against the sunlight. “Wait here.”

“Joel?”

There was no time to question his actions, because you were out of breath as it was, and he was moving further away quicker than you expected. Standing there in the middle of the street wasting sunlight turned your insides with every second that passed. Your eyes caught sight of him turning a corner before he vanished entirely from your sight. And you held onto the thin shred of sanity you had left in your body.

You trusted Joel. A fact truer than anything you’d known in your life.

So you waited, watched your surrounding areas, and held your breath.

If you weren’t so unnerved by the silence, you might have found it enjoyable. Some peace before the two of you went in search of a QZ that may no longer be there. That thought never occurred to you—traveling with Joel kept you distracted enough to where you didn’t focus on the important things. The question that now picked at your heart.

What were you supposed to do if the QZ wasn’t there? Where would you go?

Blind faith is all that kept you going, but that never seemed to be enough. In the end you were left with nothing but disappointment. You’d run all out of faith when it came to the fates. The still healing wound on your side was proof enough of that.

The echo of dried leaves cracking beneath feet signaled to you that Joel must have returned. Whatever he was looking for must have been a bust. The smile on your face and tease right on the tip of your tongue died in moments as you turned. A rock falling to your stomach, filling you with dread.

Dried blood caked down the side of their face. A deep red now a rust brown; a stark contrast to the green moss that covered their torn clothes.

Every time you saw one you felt the punch to your gut grow stronger. As if lead embedded itself in your flesh. Again. Your breath came in short, eyes stuck staring at what was once a person. They stumbled forward, body twitching with every stunted shift. And you wanted to scream. Shout for Joel, but your mouth sealed itself shut, your body rooted to the ground beneath you.

The whole time you were aching for life to return to this city, you forgot. Life already existed here. Mangled and rotting and steeped in death.

But life nonetheless.

They turned, eyes glassy and empty, but somewhere in the depth of them they recognized that you were alive. Your heart pounded against your chest, louder than their fucking screech. It pierced right through your skin, a slice to the already existing wound.

You clutched Joel’s gun, finger sliding along the trigger. It was easy enough to pull, to set the bullet flying towards its mark. And you should have pulled it, should have watched as they dropped, but like an idiot…you hesitated.

Why the fuck did you hesitate?

A pause of silence filled the space, echoing louder than any gun could have, before time slowed before your very eyes. How fucking stupid of you. To think you’d be safe. They clocked your shift back, head twitching, before that horrifying click you’d come to hate echoed in your ears. You were dead the second they started to run, limbs flying and body thrashing, as if the control stemmed to one part.

One sole purpose.

Infect.

“Fuck!” you shouted, ignoring the ache in your feet as you sprinted in the direction Joel disappeared to. If you were lucky he was still there.

Yet life had a way of proving to you that luck had nothing to do with why you remained alive.

“Joel!” You gasped for breath, doing what you could to ignore how they sped up behind you, their screech somehow louder as it echoed off the buildings around you. “Joel!”

If you could get the upper hand you could put a bullet in their skull, but your thought process happened too late. Glancing over your shoulder, you were blinded by their body launching at you. Toppling you to the ground as they scratched for your face, any part of you they could sink their teeth into. You don’t remember screaming, or even calling Joel’s name. You simply fought. You tugged on the loose thread of pure fucking rage that called your name—screamed for you to do survive.

“You piece of shit!” you yelled, managing to hold them off with your forearm, your fingers grappling for the knife attached to your side. “You fucking animal!”

“Boston!”

Yanking it out, you nearly cried in relief as you jammed it into their neck, shoving it in deep enough to hear a crunch as it met bone. Satisfaction pulled at your chest. You didn’t stop there. Dragging it out, you sliced through their shoulder, their throat, any part of them you could reach. Until you were no better than the monster that now lay above you. Lifeless.

Hands came out of nowhere, grasping onto their corpse and shoving it off you. You nearly took a swing at the person above you, the red fury blinding you to anything that could have existed nearby. The feral piece of your heart—the survivor—had been set in motion and they called for blood.

Joel’s hands yanked the knife out of your clutch, his voice calling your name, and for a moment you felt lost to the depths of your own fury. You would have killed him if he wasn’t fast enough to dodge that knife.

“Boston!” He pressed you to the ground, his body sitting on your waist, hands keeping your wrists together. “Baby it’s me.”

The breath in your lungs escaped in a sharp gasp, your body stilling within seconds. Only a few times in your life had you succumbed to that raw emotion that scratched and clawed at your chest. Some days you claimed it kept you alive. Others you ignored its existence in the hopes that it would disappear for good. It was the darkness you refused to see—the one thing you wouldn’t accept about yourself.

“You’re okay,” he mumbled, releasing the hold he had on your hands in order to cup your face. “It’s dead. It’s gone. You killed it.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Why…did you leave?”

Leaning forward he pressed his forehead to yours, his breath hot across your chin. “I’m sorry darlin’. I keep doin’ that.”

Inhaling his breath, you did what you could to regulate your heart. “And I keep nearly dying.”

He grinned, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Nearly. Not if I got a say in the matter.”

Dirt covered your back as he helped you to your feet, and before you could shake it off, he brushed his hands along your body. Patting it off as best he could. The act shouldn’t have brought tears to your eyes, it shouldn’t have even been noteworthy. But the tenderness behind his touch reminded you what you could have lost.

“I want an explanation,” you said, your voice thick with tears. Thankfully he chose to ignore it.

“I found somethin’.” He pointed to a shop that held no sign, no indication that it was anything before this. “You might like it.”

You struggled to put the knife back in its place—still wary and on edge. “This better be good Texas. I didn’t almost die for nothing.”

Joel didn’t respond, but you caught the flash of something crossing his face. Dark enough to cause worry. And you wanted to ask, to prod and poke at what he was keeping to himself, but the way his fingers tightened on his gun told you enough. He didn’t like to think of you that way. Dead on the ground in a city that he brought you to. A trip that was meant to be filled with joy.

“Follow me,” he stated, pushing open that already broken door.

You half expected to see a shop, something frivolous from the past, but the sight of a garage nearly stopped you in your tracks. A dusty brown cover cloaked something in the middle, but the shape was familiar enough to light up your chest. A car. Joel tugged at the cover, kicking up dirt and whatever else lay atop, but you couldn’t care less.

It’s once beautiful dark red color looked aged with however long it had been here. Never one to know cars, you simply knew that it was expensive—a thing that would have cost the entirety of your tuition at one point.

“How…” you breathed.

“Saw the logo on the window,” he replied. “I figured it was a hardware store until I came in.”

“Does it work?”

He shrugged. “Probably not.”

You deflated slightly. “Can we…fix it?”

The sun was going down faster than you would have liked and Joel knew it. He could see how you were both losing time the longer you were there. But the prospect of having an escape kept him on the edge. His grim expression made the choice for you as you moved to pop the hood. Your bag, now discarded on the floor by his feet.

“I don’t know much about cars—”

“Lucky you got me.”

“Don’t tell me. You’re a contractor who knows cars?”

Joel huffed. “Someone had to help my brother fix up his shitty truck.”

The words were good enough for you as he moved you out of the way, ducking down to peer at the engine. His shirt tugged up his back as he leant forward, his skin coated in a sheen of sweat. If it were any other time and the prospect of this car working didn’t depend on life or death, you would have sat back and admired him.

But the edge from earlier still ran through your veins, adrenaline the only thing that kept you upright and stable. Joel worked silently, cursing under his breath every now and then. Only speaking to ask for certain tools. And you watched the sun begin to dip lower. Suddenly you found yourself regretting never taking auto shop in high school. Choosing wood shop over it in a heartbeat.

“Turn her over,” he said, wiping the sweat away from his neck. You felt warmth pool in your stomach at the sight.

Jamming the screwdriver into the ignition, you turned it slowly, hope cresting at the top of your chest. Only for the sputter of an engine to die out in seconds.

“Shit,” he muttered, glancing back at the work he’d put in. “The battery ain’t dead yet and I fixed everythin’ else. Try again for me darlin’.”

You repeated the motion, pressing down on the gas pedal, clutching the wheel in your hand. Whether it was you attempting to force life into the car, or sheer fucking luck, you’d never know. But the echo of the engine roaring to life flooded you with enough relief you fell back into the seat with a smile.

“Joel?”

He looked up, a smile of pride across his lips. “Yeah baby?”

“Let’s get the fuck out of New York.”

Nodding, he tossed your bag into the backseat as you let him slide into the driver's seat. “I like the sound of that.”

The calm of the forest welcomed the both of you with open arms. As if promising the rest you ached for desperately. Miles and miles of trees—of different shades of green and brown—were softly illuminated by the sun steadily dipping in the sky. In an hour or less night would be upon the world and this day, no matter how special, would have to come to an end.

You tried not to think about it; the idea of having to say goodbye to something you’d cherish. What would keep you going if Joel and you were to ever part. What you wouldn’t do to keep the sun in the sky for a while longer. Give up a few years of your own life, of the future you planned with hope filled eyes and empty hearts.

If staying here—in this moment—was an option, you wouldn’t hesitate to jump at the chance.

Joel slammed the trunk of the car shut, a small box of cans he found buried in the back of the garage, clutched in his hands. Despite the prospect of all this eventually ending, you caught the hint of a smile on his lips. Barely there, yet bright enough to light up your heart like a match being struck.

You found yourself smiling back—heart hammering loudly in your chest.

“We’ve got…” He raised a can covered in dents and coated in a thick layer of dust. “‘M gonna assume it’s soup.”

“Lovely,” you laughed, your face twisting up in disgust as he tossed it to you.

The dust was sticky beneath your fingers, as if something had spilled across it years ago. You figured it was best not to question more than necessary. Settling on the ground, you plunged your knife into the cover, taking a hesitant whiff of something probably expired past saving. Much to your surprise though, a pungent scent of tomatoes greeted you.

“Raviolis,” you exclaimed, delight scrawled across your face.

You wished you could have seen Joel’s eyes go soft, seen the way he practically melted at the expression of joy you wore. Joel Miller remained hard as stone to the rest of the world, but in moments like this, when peace was prominent and life gave way to something other than pain. He allowed himself to feel. For a bit…he was the man he might have been a decade ago.

“Good enough for me.”

Prying the lid off, you watched as he set up stones for a small enough pit. You were far enough in the forest that it would take people several hours to get to you. Far enough away from civilization of any kind. What remained in the city, the bits and pieces left behind, would never be enough to build what used to exist. Like it or not…that part of the world had come to a close.

The chapter sealed and signed off with enough blood to keep it shut forever.

“Thank you,” you said softly as he struck a match from the small box you kept in your pack. “For today.”

He grinned, glancing down at his hands that fiddled with a stick. “Was nothin’ really. You wanted to see the city and we were heading this way—”

“Joel.” Cupping his face, you shifted his shining brown eyes until they were upon your face. Gazing at you with a look he’d never shown you before. “You gave me a day I’ll never forget.” He chuckled, grasping onto your waist gently. “Thank you.”

Those two words didn’t seem like enough to get your message across. You wanted to do the same for him. To give him something he’d remember, but nothing felt enough.

He pulled you closer. “Would have been better if you didn’t get attacked.”

“Well…” You looped your arm around his neck. “I knew what I was getting into when I chose you.”

Something shifted in the air between you the second he led you up those cracked and broken museum steps. The front of the building had been blown clean off by bombs, but you’d recognize it anywhere. The place where your future once led to. A home in your heart for so long. A dream not yet come to life. Joel took care to lead, to put himself in harm's way to keep you safe. But it was more than that.

He gave you time to look.

To take back a part of your past you never got to have.

An act that he’d never be able to do. He couldn’t go back, couldn’t take anything from his past that hadn’t already been destroyed. The watch on his wrist was all he’d keep. But you…he could give this to you. He could heal something in your heart you didn’t even realize was broken.

“I’d do it again,” he murmured, lips sliding along the inside of your wrist, nose pressed to your palm.

Your heart ached for him; body burned for him. And in the lowlight of the sun, you found your hope in him. It glimmered softly, barely within reach, but Joel had kept it for you all this time. He made sure to protect what you couldn’t—what you had given up.

“Kiss me,” you whispered, catching his quickly darkening gaze. “Please.”

The crackle of the flames couldn’t hide his small groan of pleasure as his lips met yours. What he intended to be soft, reverent in a way he’d never been before, shifted rapidly. His hand slid up your body, fingers wrapped gently around your throat to keep you in place. To help him devour you a bit deeper. That alone sent a flutter to rush through your entire body, your fingers digging into his wrist, silently begging for him to press down tighter.

To cut off the air he exhaled into your lungs.

“You got no idea—” He sucked in a breath when your lips met his throat, teeth nipping at the salty skin. Red bloomed beneath the surface as you went, small marks and bruises to prove that he wasn’t dreaming. That this trip was real—that you were real.

He growled, fingers tightening around your throat to pull your lips back to his, a rough breath exhaled into your open mouth. “No idea what you do to me darlin’.”

Sticky warm wet heat spilled into your stomach, flooding your already damp panties. The can was forgotten on the edge of the pit, his touch far more enticing than a few meager pieces of food. If you could survive on one thing alone, you’d want it to be him. You would train your body to sustain itself on his touch, his tongue sliding along yours, his fingers digging into your skin.

He’d become your oxygen, your reason for living.

“I-I do.” You gasped as his teeth dug into your throat, hands quickly stripping you of your flannel. Helping him, you yanked at your shirt, discarding it to the side. Nothing mattered but the feel of his tongue tracing along your skin—the hot mix of his touch and spit made you dizzy. “You do the same to me.”

A soft grunt was muffled into your chest, his hips rising up to grind against something. To gain what little friction he could.

In the midst of kissing him, he managed to drag you into his lap, your knees pressed to the forest floor on either side of his hips. Your body, as close as you could get with clothes in the way. You could feel the heavy press of him against your thigh and clenched around nothing. The needy emptiness that slammed into your body was nearly too much, but you held onto what little fragments of sanity still remained.

You clung to the bits of yourself he wished to consume, knowing the consequences of what might come afterwards.

But how could you give a fuck about consequences when his touch lit you up like the fire to your left? How could you care about anything else? When his lips wrapped around your peaked nipple and sucked at it as if you were his source of life.

His hands slid up your back, skin hot wherever he touched, as he pulled you down into his lap a bit more. Enough to feel the familiar press of his cock straining against his jeans. The sun was nearly gone now, light bleeding through the branches of the trees, and you let the warmth consume you. You relished in its burning caress as he worshiped your skin with his mouth, his hands that had spilled blood for you.

“Need to be—” He bit off with a sharp moan as you rolled your hips down, giving him the pressure he needed. “Fuck keep doin’ that.”

You were desperate for him and you weren’t afraid to admit it to yourself. The infatuation bordered on obsession, but if you were to say that about him he’d finally have to admit the same to you. He’d have to crack open his chest, bleed through your fingers like sand, and allow you to dig your way to his heart. As if you were conducting an autopsy on his body—picking a part each dark piece that he was ashamed to hold onto.

“Touch me,” you whined, digging your fingers into his hair as he dug his into your hips. A burning bruising touch that left you needy.

He grinned, pulling at the button of your pants. “I am touchin’ you darlin’.”

“You—fuck, fuck, fuck—” His fingers slid through your slick, finding their way to the parts of you he’d memorized in such a short time. Your clit practically throbbed beneath his touch, body shuddering as he circled it with enough pressure to electrify your nerves. “Yes.”

“That’s what you want?” The question was irrelevant. He knew this better than you, but that wasn’t what he was asking.

Is this enough? This quick fuck beside a fire as you both hid the real reason. Was his touch, his kiss, enough to show the truth?

Was he enough?

You choked out a soft yes, your lips finding his in a sloppy spit slicked kiss, and his fingers became insistent in their determination to watch you break. Joel had become addicted to the sight. His very own guilty pleasure—yet how could he feel guilty about something so angelic? How could he repent for a sin that he’d give up everything for? What was the point of worshiping at an altar when heaven existed between your thighs?

Eventually his fingers wouldn’t be enough. For either of you. But he was focused on one thing, feeling your pussy spill along his palm. He sunk two fingers into you knuckle deep and smiled as your head fell back, a throaty moan echoing off the trees. You grinded against his hand, fingers tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck. And this was enough.

“Prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he murmured, hand still placed around your throat. His cock leaked as it constricted with your swallow and images of what he’d look like in your mouth flashed in his mind.

“M-More—” You gasped, your clit dragging along the heel of his calloused palm.

But you had begged for something else and Joel was never one to deny you. He ripped at your pants as you did the same with his, your lips messy and rough against his. You swallowed his moan the second your cold hand wrapped around his throbbing cock—precum sliding down your palm as he did his best not to finish there and then. He was so fucking wound up that this would be over before it began.

Neither of you cared.

“You’ve gotta know,” he rasped, gripping onto your bare hip as you hovered directly over his cock. Your pussy practically dripped onto him.

“Know what?” you sighed, sliding him through your slick.

He squeezed his eyes shut to the sight of you. The shine of firelight and sunlight played against your skin and Joel felt his body tighten painfully. The view alone nearly made you double over in pleasure, your breaths coming in short gasps as he fought to finish on the front of your pussy.

“That I—” He gasped as you began to sink down onto him, encasing him that sticky heat he’d begun to think was the cause of his demise. He’d never be able to live without this. Without getting to carve his way into your body. “Fuck darlin’.”

You grinned, cupping his chin and pulling his attention back. “I’ll go slow.”

“You don’t have to take it easy on me.”

“Seems like I might.”

A rumble started in the base of his chest, lips curving up as he caught your mouth in a searing kiss you felt down to your toes. The grip on your throat tightened as you began to move slowly, letting him pull out of you slow enough to cause madness to rise in your chest. Like a burn you refused to let go of. Joel had other ideas. He yanked you down with enough force to drag out a high pitched cry from your chest, your mouth falling open in a silent scream when he set his own pace.

Quick and fast and filthy enough to sign your name on hell’s roster. He wanted to fuck himself into your body so deep he was buried there. Wanted to paint your insides until you were leaking him all morning. He wanted to etch himself into your soul.

Permanent and without shame.

“C’mon darlin’.” His teeth dug into your jaw, pain slicing through the pleasure deliciously. “Let me hear ya.”

You curled into him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he pounded up into you. “‘S good,” you gasped, coherency going right out the window.

He grinned, tugging at your throat. “You can do better than that.”

Words faintly entered your mind before disappearing seconds later as he tilted your hips slightly. You scratched at his chest when his cock struck right where you needed him. Right where your mouth began to form words you fought so hard to keep at bay. Words that revealed too much, gave a window into your heart, and if you had the capability you’d shut your fucking mouth. But it was far too late for that.

“You like that?” he groaned, teeth digging into his plush bottom lip as he kept the angle. The veins on his neck were strained, begging for you lick at them, and you dipped down to distract yourself from the words.

The one thing that seemed to catch his attention.

“What was that?”

You whined, wrapped an arm around his neck as you dragged your hips along the coarse hair at the base of his cock. “Nothing,” you mumbled, sucking at his neck.

Only for him to pull you off by your throat, his lips hovering over yours. “What’d you say?”

“I—” You clung to him, begging for the truth to sink back into your chest. But he was staring at you with dark eyes and a parted mouth begging for you to kiss it. He looked at you as if you were ethereal and for that small moment, you believed it. “I love you.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, his hips stuttering in their movement. You watched his eyes go wide, understanding finally dawning across his features, and you prepared yourself for the worst. You waited for him to reject you. The words never came. He pulled you into a kiss, tongue sliding along yours, as he sped up his thrusts. Grunting into your mouth with each one—his body taut and begging for release.

“Yeah?” he panted into your mouth. You nodded, feeling the burn of pleasure begin to flash white behind your shut eyes.

“So much,” you sobbed, tears spilling down your cheeks. Something pulled tight in your stomach, building with each stunted move of his body against yours. You needed it, would beg on your knees for it, and Joel was right there with you.

His dark gaze met yours as he finally released your throat in favor of finding your clit. “Say it again.”

Heat rocketed up your spine as you locked down around his cock, his fingers insistent and rough. “I love you!” you cried, trembling in his hold. Those three words you’d been so afraid to say out loud finally spilled free over and over and over again. Until you couldn’t hear them anymore over the loud rush in your ears.

He slammed his hips up one last time, lips finding yours in a bruising kiss, and found his own peak. Spilling into you with a moan, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you pressed up close. You wondered if he feared you’d vanish before his very eyes.

“I love you,” he sighed, his forehead pressed to yours, eyes shut to your own wide gaze.

The words didn’t register at first, simply flying directly over your head. Yet as silence wrapped around your entwined bodies, sunlight disappearing over the last of the trees, you finally understood. No orgasm could match the absolute bliss that filled your body at the echo of his voice forming those words. Of their soft cadence. He was hesitant to look at you, to face what could finally break him, but your hands cupping his face drew him out of his own mind.

“Say it again,” you whispered, smiling so bright your cheeks ached. “Please.”

Before you could bask in their beauty, he was pulling away. Digging into his pack that lay behind him. You wanted to stop him, bring him back to this current moment, but the glint of something gold caused you to freeze. The breath once again caught in your chest.

For the first time you saw Joel grow nervous. Almost bashful as he lifted his hand and allowed a small green jewel on a gold chain to dangle between the both of you. The last of the sunlight glinted off the emerald and for some reason it reminded you of him. How it shone in those rare moments when light caught it just right. Yet held a darkness to it, a hidden truth yet to be revealed.

“I love you,” he said, pressing the necklace into your palms. “I always will darlin’.”

Tears dripped onto his hands as you clutched the dainty piece of jewelry to your chest. “Oh Joel.”

“It’s not a ring—”

You silenced him with a tear filled kiss, salt spilling across his tongue. He did what he could to wipe them away, but like it or not there seemed to be no end in sight. Not when your heart finally latched onto all those broken pieces you thought were lost. Joel did the one thing you never thought possible. He healed you.

“It’s enough.” You smiled into his kiss, the necklace digging into your palm—carving its shape into your skin. “You’re enough.”

You could see it now. The path your future led to. Not a building, or a job, or even a home. The end of your path—your grand plan—would always and forever lead to him.

#this is so long i don't even know what to say #um...i'm sorry for what's about to happen next????#ANYWAYS I'M JUST GONNA *dips for fear of this flopping*#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller #the last of us fic #my writing

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once-upon-an-imagine · 7 months

Note

billy hargrove x confident-but-short!reader ?

like after st3 and he lives. and they meet up on accident or something maybe harrington reader?

"You need a stepstool or are you too proud to ask for my help?"

"shut up and hold me up,"

''this peanut butter better be worth it-''

I love this! I love short!reader 😊😊 this is so cute! I hope you like it, is my first time writing for Billy! Warnings: none Disclaimer: I don’t own Stranger Things 😊 gif isn’t mine 😁

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Peanut Butter Aisle

You didn't understand the big thing about birthdays. You and Steve would usually just watch movies, and eat as much junk food as you could for either one of your birthdays. So you didn't get why he was now making a big deal out of Eddie Munson's birthday.

Well, you kinda did. It was because he was so in love with Eddie and he never wanted him to feel the way the two of you did. You thought it was sweet of your brother. You had never seen Steve so happy. But that didn't mean he could send you to the grocery store, with Billy Hargrove of all people, to get all the food for the party he was throwing for his boyfriend.

Out of all the weird things that happened at Hawkins your brother becoming friends with Billy Hargrove and Eddie Munson was by far the strangest you had ever seen.

"Do you have the list?" Billy asked you as you entered the grocery store. You grabbed the piece of paper from your pocket and showed it to him. "Shit, that's a lot of food" he chuckled.

"Yeah, let's just get this over with" you barely smiled as he grabbed a cart.

Since he became friends with your brother, he's tried everything with you. But you were a tougher person to crack. After almost dying, Billy apologized to everyone in the group and he slowly gained everyone's trust. Except for yours for some reason. You knew the reason, and so did Steve. He was the only one who knew that you had developed a small crush on Billy in the past few months. You enjoyed the occasional flirting back and forth, but to actually develop feelings for him was a completely different level. A small part inside kept telling you that there was no way he changed that much. That he still hated you just as much as he used to hate Steve. So you couldn't bring yourself to admit it.

"What's first on the list?" he asked as he grabbed a cart.

You didn't know what it was. He was looking particularly handsome today. You knew you wouldn't last this grocery shopping trip. You carefully ripped the piece of paper in half.

"You take this side, I take this?" you suggested.

"Are you... sure?" he asked, confused. "We've got time-"

"Yes! Meet you in the peanut butter aisle" you insisted, going one way with a small basket.

You tried to calm yourself down a little. But you knew Billy was noticing that you tried to avoid him whenever you could. But you shrugged it off and got the items in your half of the list until you reached the peanut butter aisle. And, of course, the specific peanut butter that Steve asked for because it was Eddie's favorite was on the top shelf.

"Ugh, why does it have to be all the way up there?" you muttered to yourself. You looked around but the aisle was empty.

When Billy came back to look for you, he silently laughed at the sight of you trying your hardest to reach for the peanut butter on the top shelf.

"You need a stepstool, sweetheart, or are you too proud to ask for my help?"

"Ugh, shut up, Hargrove!"

"I'm not gonna lie, you look cute trying to reach for it-"

"Just get it!"

"That's too tall" he said. "I can hold you up, though" he offered.

"What? No! Why don't I hold you up?" you asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

"Seriously? You're gonna hold me up?" he chuckled.

"I could!" you argued and he simply smiled at you. With his stupid charming smile. "Shut up and hold me up" you glared at him.

"You know, a please wouldn't kill you" he smirked.

"Seriously?" you rolled your eyes.

"I mean, it just doesn't sound like you to not be polite-"

"Ugh!" you sighed. "Could you please hold me up, Hargrove?"

"Was that so hard, princess?" he smirked before walking closer to you so he could help you.

"This peanut butter better be worth it-'' he heard you mutter under your breath until you finally reached the jar. "I've got it!" you smiled just as Billy slipped, almost making you fall but his hands quickly wrapped around your waist and your face was really close to his.

"You know, you look really cute when you smile and you're not yelling at me" he smiled. Your heart was beating incredibly fast. You just hoped he couldn't feel it.

"Shut up and put me down, Hargrove!" you complained as he put you back down and you placed the peanut butter on the cart with the rest of the things. "We should go" you quickly said, starting to push the cart.

"Why do you still hate me?" you heard asking you all of a sudden, making you stop and turn around to face him.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me" he said, walking closer to you. "I get that you used to hate me. Your brother, Max, and her friends. Everyone" he kept going. "But I have apologized for everything that happened and I have been trying to prove myself for several months now, so why do you still hate me, Harrington?"

It was rare to see Billy this way. And you couldn't deny that you found it kind of sweet. Because he was right. He did apologize to everyone, including yourself, and he was a completely different person than he was a year ago. But you still couldn't bring yourself to admit that you actually liked him. Because a small part inside of you still thought he would make fun of you and just go back to toying with you like he had since he came to Hawkins. So, you didn't.

"Does that bother you, Hargrove?" you smirked. "Does it keep you up at night to know that someone doesn't like you?"

"Not someone" he said, mocking your tone a little bit. "You."

"W-what?" you asked a little taken aback by his bluntness.

"It bothers me that you still hate me, okay? Did I do something to you? I have apologized for my behavior in the past but if I did something else-"

"What difference does it make? "Why does it matter to you so much?"

"Because I like you!" he blurted out.

"Y-you what?" you chuckled, nervously.

"I like you" Billy said, walking closer to you.

"No, you don't. You hate me" you insisted.

"No, I don't! I've never hated you" he argued.

"Okay, now you're just lying, Hargrove-" you chuckled, trying to turn around but he gently grabbed your hand and stopped you.

"No, I'm not! I hated your brother. But I never hated you" he said.

"R-really?"

"Are you joking? The first time you spoke to me, you kicked my car and called me an asshole" he smiled.

"Yeah, because you almost ran me over" you reminded him. "And you called me Strawberry Shortcake" you said, making him laugh a little.

"I thought you were cute" he insisted.

"And I thought you were an asshole" you smirked.

"Do you still think I'm an asshole?"

You couldn't really lie to him anymore. Not when he was looking at you like that with his beautiful blue eyes and his sweet smile.

"No" you finally said. "I don't still think you're an asshole, Billy" you said.

"I think that's the first time you've called me by my name" he chuckled.

"Do you still think I'm cute?" you smirked.

"Yeah" he said, smiling at you.

"Well, for what is worth, I don't hate you" you admitted, looking away, but Billy softly cupped your cheek with his hand, making you look up at him. "I... I like you too" you admitted.

"Really?" he smirked. "Enough to go out on a date with me?"

"Maybe" you shrugged. "If you asked" you said.

"You're impossible, Harrington" he chuckled.

"Shut up and kiss me already, Hargrove" you smiled before he brought you closer and pulled you to him, finally kissing you.

The End

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A/N: I hope you liked it! and I hope to have more stories up soon!

#stranger things #stranger things imagine #billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove drabble

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meowmeowriley · 16 days

Note

The Only Thing We Share is the Same Last Name

Tell ,e about the whump pretty pretty please 🥹🥹🥹

Eheh eheheheheheh okie dokie.

After hearing of his brothers death in Mexico Thomas Riley joins the army. He wants to be more like his brother was, wants to be a better person. He passes selections, gets into the SAS, he's on the right track. Why the fuck does Lieutenant Ghost of the 141 look like he's about to fucking murder him?

Here's the opening 😁

***

Tom held the receiver to his ear and listened to it ring. He could see the man tasked with listening in out of the corner of his eye. They wouldn't recognize this number, maybe they wouldn't answer. He'd just leave a message, but truly he wished-

"Hello?" It was Beth.

"Hey Lov- er, HI, Beth." He wasn't sure where they stood.

"Tom?"

"Yeah."

"Oh thank heavens." Rustling on the other end. Tom could easily imagine she'd just slumped over the kitchen island. The same kitchen island she'd found him slumped against half conscious He'd seen her do it so many times, any time someone on the other end of the phone gave her news that offered relief. So she'd wanted to hear from him? "It's been almost six months, Tom." She sounded tired. She had two young boys to care for, she had a right to be tired.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I know." He could've called five months ago. He could've called three months ago. He could've called last week. He had two minutes. "I, er, I've been busy. Been training. Practicin' the CQB. Selections is today. In a few minutes, in fact." He swallowed. His throat was so dry, Beth could probably hear it through the line.

"The SAS, then?"

"Yeah."

"Hmmm."

The clock ticking on the wall was maddening. One minute. Nut up, Riley.

"H-how's Mum?" A frog could've said it clearer.

"She's... oh, y'know... she's coping." Right. Coping. 'The damn army is gonna take both my sons from me! Queen and country, what about your poor mother!?" He wondered if anyone patched the hole in the wall, or replaced the lamp. "Just popped down to the shop with Jo," Beth continued. "'S just me 'n Si-"

"I'm gonna have to hop off, here." He scrambled to stop her sentence. "Gotta... gotta do this." The plastic of the phone groaned under the pressure of him white knuckling it. Beth could probably hear that too.

"Hey." Tom closed his eyes. He deserved whatever tongue lashing he got, but he wished she'd yell. It would be easier. "Y'know, the way we left things..." she sighed. "I miss you. I'm sorry." It would be so much easier if she'd just yell.

"Joseph doesn't deserve a father like that. Not some j-.... The boys, they deserve a father they can be proud of. Not the man I was. But the man I'm becoming." A man like him.

"The man you are, Thomas." Not yet. Maybe not ever. But he'd be damned if he didn't try. "I'm proud of you.... He would be too."

Tom exhaled slowly, desperately grasping at the last of his composure. "Wish me luck." Far from steady, but at least his voice hadn't cracked.

"You don't need me to. You'll do fine."

"If, er, if things go to plan, and I get in, I should still be on track to have some leave. Three weeks."

"You'll come home?" The hope in her voice is what broke him.

"If you'll have me?" There was still an out. She could still send him away. He'd understand if she did.

"Please."

***

Just a lil taste 😋

#ao3 #fanfic wip #fanfiction #fanfic #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #call of duty #simon ghost riley #tommy riley #whump #modern warfare #ask hoard #ask answered #ask #ask game

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dontaskmemybias · 9 months

Text

The Fan Meeting

Pairing: Idol!Han Jisung x afab reader Request: No Theme: Strangers to Lovers Contains: Panic Attacks, Cursing, Unprotected Sex (don't do this), Loads of Fluff, Angst If You Squint. Word Count: 4,933 Note: MINORS DNI!!!! This is a work of fiction and does not portray any of the members irl. I was thinking to myself, what if my worst nightmare and one of my fantasies collided? Then this came out haha! I know some of the details aren't accurate, this is fiction so don't come for me! 😂

You had been wanting to see Stray Kids live for forever. You were a huge STAY, you even (embarrassingly) wrote fan fiction about them on Tumblr. For your birthday your lovely best friends since childhood decided to get you tickets to see them live AND do a fan meeting. One of them said she would come with you (you had gotten her into the group and she is now a proud STAY as well) and it was all the two of you could talk about for weeks.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE WE ARE SEEING THEM TOMORROW I'M GONNA PASS OUT AND/OR CRY I SWEAR TO GOD!" Your bestie had heard you talk about how your were probably going to have a heart attack or spontaneously combust for weeks so, being used to this dialogue, she just laughed and shook her head at your antics.

"If you pass out I'll just throw some water on you so you don't miss too much." She deadpanned. This caused you to crack up hysterically until she joined in and soon the two of you were clutching your ribs from how hard you had been laughing.

"Just 24 more hours and we will be front row watching my favorite boys." You sighed wistfully and your friend just chuckled.

"Yeah, 24 hours!"

~✨~

Your heart was racing as you lined up outside the venue. You had missed the last world tour because you had just gotten into the group and couldn't afford tickets, but that didn't bother you much seeing as this album was astronomy themed. You had worked at an observatory for years but you had just left the job and honestly needed a break from job hunting and what better way to decompress than seeing your favorite boys live.

You were fascinated with the sky so the first time you heard "Hall of Fame" and recognized Neil Armstrong's words you almost passed out. This was the perfect time to see your favorite boys live and you were seriously worried that you might ACTUALLY pass out at some point.

You and your bestie had dressed up for the occasion, wanting to look good for the fan meeting (Jesus the fan meeting you hadn't really thought about it too much, too worried you were going to embarrass yourself)

Once you got into the venue you were starstruck. There was merchandise and STAY's running around, excitement filled the air. You were in awe of it all and if it weren't for your bestie you would've stood there frozen taking it all in for way too long. Luckily she pulled your hand and dragged you over to the line for merchandise.

After spending WAY too much money on memorabilia you decided to head to your seats. You were absolutly buzzing with excitement as you continued forward until you reached your spots. So close to the stage you could practically see the flecks of paint on the stage floor.

"How are we feeling? Excited? Nervous? Pass-outy?" You laughed at your friends made up word.

"Pass-outy? That's ridiculous. But seriously I am just so fucking excited I cannot contain it!" You giggle-screeched and started hopping around a bit. Your friend joined you in your mini-freakout and you both started screaming when the show began to start.

~✨~

The show was AMAZING! Hands-down one of the best experiences of your life. The vocals, the rapping, the DANCING?!!?! You felt like you had died and gone to heaven. You were so star struck and in shock that you were able to be here at all that after the last song was over and they did their (adorable) goodbye speeches you felt glued to the floor, staring with your mouth open until your bestie pulled you out of it. Reminding you of the fan meeting.

The fan meeting.

Where you would get to MEET. THEM.

Excitement and nerves bubbled up within you as your bestie dragged you to the next location to wait in line to meet the boys.

~✨~

You had to wait for forever in line, you had gotten there late because your bestie had to use the bathroom so you were now literally the last people in line. Your nerves were at an all time high. What were you going to say? Your anxiety started to flare up but your bestie calmed you down before you could have a full blown panic attack.

Finally you were next. You'd see Chan first, then Changbin, Lee Know, Han, Felix, Hyunjin, Seungmin, and finally I.N. You could do this, no need to be worried.

You moved a few steps, bestie in tow, and came in front of Bang Chan himself. You smiled and waved a little. He giggled a bit and waved back.

"Hi I'm Bang Chan! And you are?"

"H-hello, I'm Y/N."

"Oh don't mind her, she's nervous! Y/N here is a huge fan! She even writes fanfiction about you guys! She's Y/URL on Tumblr!"

You froze. She did not just tell them your dark secret like that. You two always teased each other but she had no idea how badly this freaked you out. Your eyes were wide, you didn't notice but all the guys were looking at you now with varying expressions from confusion to amusement.

You started breathing a little heavier. Your hand started shaking.

Fuck.

You were about to have a panic attack in front of all eight members of Stray Kids.

You tried calming yourself down but tears began to well up in your eyes. Your breathing got shallower and before you knew it someone was ushering you away from the crowd and into a separate room.

Someone was holding your hand, talking to you calmly. There were other people in the room as well, you couldn't really tell who, your brain was only at half capacity as you fought the urge to sink deeper into your panic. The logical part of your brain realized it was probably your bestie in front of you and security with her to make sure you were okay, but her hands felt a little bigger than normal. You didn't register that fact, you just laid down until your head was in her lap and you began to work through your exercises to bring you out of your panic.

Find five things you can see.

You focused on your skirt, the cute one you decided to wear tonight. The floor, white tile with black designs on it. The security guard, closer to you than anyone else other than your best friend. The plant on the floor next to you, in a cute ceramic pot. Finally the fan on the ceiling, not on but sitting stagnant.

You didn't notice but you were listing things out loud, your brain in too much of a haze to comprehend what was going on.

Four things you can hear.

Your heartbeat, a bit higher than normal but slowing down as you listed things. Your breathing, shallow but more steady than it was before. Your best friend, apologizing and explaining the situation to the security guard, she sounded farther away than you expected. Another voice, saying calming and reassuring things in a gentle low voice.

Three things you can feel.

Your hand on the cool tile floor, lowering your rising body temperature. Your skirt, you take it in your fingers to feel the fabric. A gentle hand running through your hair to calm you down.

Two things you can smell.

The perfume you put on today for the show, peaches, your favorite. Cologne, an unfamiliar scent, definitely not what your bestie had been wearing tonight.

One thing you can taste.

The remnants of the snack you and your bestie shared during the show.

After running through the exercise your brain slowly turned back on and the first thing it registered was that this was NOT your bestie who you were laying on.

You sat up quickly and looked at who had been comforting you for god knows how long and your breath hitched.

Han Jisung.

You were trying to think of what to say but he beat you to it.

"How are you feeling? Do you need anything? Water maybe?" You shyly nodded your head and you saw one of the security guards leave and bring you back a bottle of water. You took a quick sip and looked back to Han.

"I-I am so sorry, I thought you were my friend, I-I didn't realize-" He cut you off

"No worries. I saw you get pale and start shaking back there and I knew what was going on. I get panic attacks too so I figured I might be able to help!" He flashed you a quick smile and ran a hand over the nape of his neck.

You stared at him for much longer than you would've liked, trying to figure out what the actual fuck you were supposed to say in this scenario. The only thing your stupid lizard brain could come up with was "Thank you for letting me use you as a pillow."

What. The. Fuck.

Jesus Christ you are worse than the oblivious girls you wrote about in your little delulu land on Tumblr.

Han just giggled a bit and flashed you his biggest smile.

"I didn't mind, anything to help out a fan!"

Right. A fan, who embarrassingly had a full blown panic attack in front of her favorite band.

Thankfully your bestie came over at that moment to break the awkward silence that had settled over you and Han. Dramatically sobbing she landed on the floor next to you and took your hand in hers.

"Jesus Y/N I am so fucking sorry, I don't know why I said that I didn't mean to freak you out so much-" You cut her off before she had a full mental breakdown too.

"Hey, hey it's okay! I'm okay now, no worries." You smiled at her softly and she took a deep breath.

You all got up off the floor and thanked everyone for helping you out. You figured you must have been out of it for a bit seeing as the room next door was pretty quiet now. Not wanting to waste anyones time you started to head for the door.

"Wait! Y/N, I feel bad you didn't get to say hi to the other guys, would you like me to at least sign something for you?" This boy was a literal angel. Here you were, making his day even longer than he had probably planned on it being and now HE wants to do something nice for YOU?

"You really don't have to do that, I feel bad for making you stick around so long." You sheepishly looked down at the floor. Han walked closer to you until his feet were in your line of vision. You slowly looked up and saw him less than a foot away from you and he smiled again.

"It's no problem at all! I really want to. Please?" Shit you weren't gonna turn down such a golden opportunity. You handed him one of the photocards you got with his picture on it and he kept his hand out, waiting for more things to sign. You giggled and pulled out the three others you got.

All Han. He was after all, your bias.

He chuckled and walked over to a nearby table to sign the fan cards. When he came back he smiled and handed them to you.

"It was lovely to meet you Y/N, I hope to see you again soon."

Then he winked.

He fucking winked at you.

What fanfic bullshittary was this?

~✨~

After security made sure you were okay you and your bestie left and headed back to the hotel you were staying in for the night. You let her have it over telling the band about your fanfic account and she kept apologizing until you finally decided that it was ultimately okay, especially since you got some signatures out of it.

You did not tell her that Han had winked at you. That was just for you.

Finally you got to the hotel room and she started squealing.

"Show me the cards! I want to see his signature!!"

You giggled and pulled them out. The first one was simply signed 'Han'.

The second one said 'Y/N's biggest fan'

You looked at your bestie, thoroughly confused.

"What the hell does that mean?"

Her jaw dropped and she pointed to the third card. It was signed not with his name, but a Tumblr URL.

Your jaw dropped.

No. Fucking. Way.

It was a URL you had seen on so many occasions. Commenting, liking, and reblogging every single one of your fics. Your biggest fan on Tumblr was FUCKING HAN JISUNG?!

You looked at the fourth photocard, it was signed 'Jisung' but on the back there was a note.

'Meet me at the Marriott on Fourth street tonight, room 461 ;)'

Your heart stopped.

You must be dreaming.

There is no way this is real.

Your bestie screams.

"Y/N YOU HAVE TO FUCKING GO OH MY GOD PLEASE GO AND TELL ME WHATEVER YOU CAN TOMORROW!!!!"

Before you can register what is happening she grabs your phone and orders you an uber before pushing you out the door and telling you to 'be safe!'

~✨~

Twenty minutes later you find yourself in front of room 461 at the Marriott on Fourth street. Your nerves are at an all time high as you hesitantly knock on the door half-expecting a serial killer to be on the other side because that would be more plausible than seeing Han Jisung open the door and smile at you before ushering you inside.

Once you get inside you have absolutly no fucking clue what to do other than fiddle with the hem of your skirt and stare at the floor. Han just chuckles and walks over to the bed before plopping down on the mattress.

"I am so glad you came, I have been dying to meet my favorite writer in person for ages now!" Your head snaps in his direction and he has a cocky grin plastered on his face.

"You seriously read my fanfics about you guys?" You are in shock, still half-believing this is all a dream.

"Hell yeah I do! The other guys sometimes read them too, we like to read all the stuff our fans write but you are by far my favorite, especially now that I know for sure I am your bias." Your face pales and you stare at him wide-eyed while he stands up and walks over to you.

"Hey it's okay, I won't bite, unless you want me to of course." And he winks at you again.

You could fucking die on the spot.

Han grabs your hand and leads you over to the bed to sit down. He keeps your hand in his lap and you see a faint blush take his cheeks. He starts to look almost as nervous as you are and you don't think you have ever seen him look so fucking attractive before.

"But seriously Y/N, you're an incredible writer and I am so happy you actually came. Your stories are so great and I honestly just wanted to talk with you about them. Like, where do you get the ideas for the stuff you write?"

It takes you a second to gather your thoughts and answer his question. All that you can about think at the moment is how Han fucking Jisung reads your stories and is currently holding your hand blushing like a god damn schoolboy.

"Well, a lot of what I write are recommendations sent in by other people, but the stuff I come up with honestly just comes to me randomly. Like, I read a lot of fanfiction and I take my favorite tropes and just think about who would fit best and then the story just flows as I go. Honestly half the time I don't even have an end goal in mind, I just write until it feels finished." Now its your turn to blush and look down at your intertwined hands.

Han starts rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb as he lets out a small hum.

"That's incredible, you must have an amazing imagination to come up with so many stories."

"Yeah, my mom used to call me a space cadet growing up because I always had my head in the clouds." You chuckled and Han did too.

"That's so cute! Space cadet, I'm definitely going to be using that from now on."

After the initial shock wore off from being in Han's room, the two of you continued talking. First just about your writing, but eventually about movies you both like, T.V. shows, anime, books, and everything else. It was insane how fast you got comfortable with him. Eventually you found yourself laying on the bed next to him, hands still intertwined as you told him about space and you guys talked about the vastness of the cosmos together. Once you had covered almost every topic you could he leaned over to look at you.

"Would you want to stay and maybe watch a movie or something? I really like your company. It can get kinda lonely in these hotel rooms."

"Yeah of course, I like hanging out with you too Han." You smiled at him.

"You can call me Jisung, it's what most of my friends call me." Your heart skipped a beat. Han Jisung just implied you were friends now?

Before you could fully react Jisung got up and grabbed the T.V. remote before settling back on the bed, sitting against the headboard. He patted the spot next to him and you climbed up to sit next to him while he scrolled through the channels to find something for the two of you to watch.

He eventually saw Howl's Moving Castle and looked over to you. You nodded and giggled as he pushed play.

The two of you watched the movie in peaceful quiet, commenting on the story here and there. About a third of the way through Jisung's hand found yours again and he pulled it into his lap, pulling you a little closer to him in the process. After a few minutes he switched the hand that was holding yours so he could wrap his arm around you, you settled into his side and rested your head on his shoulder, smiling as you heard him let out a content sigh.

The two of you stayed cuddled up like that for the rest of the movie. You started to get a little tired by the end but when would you ever be in this position again? So you pushed through the drowsiness overcoming your body and finished out the movie mostly awake.

Once the movie was over you shifted a bit to look at Jisung. "I should probably head out, its really late." Jisung looked a little sad for a moment.

"What if you stayed here tonight? I could get you a car to take you home tomorrow? We are in town for another show tomorrow, maybe we could even do this again?" He looked hopeful. You smiled and nuzzled into his side.

"Yeah okay, I doubt I could get a ride at this hour anyway."

Jisung absolutly beamed at your response and sat up stretching his back.

"Yay sleepover!" He started laughing. "If you'd like, I have some clothes you could change into to be a bit more comfortable?"

"Yeah that would be great!"

"There's some facewash in the bathroom too you can use!"

With that Jisung got up and grabbed you one of his big tee shirts and a pair of boxers to change into. You got changed in the bathroom and washed your face. Your mind was racing with so many thoughts but the moment you came back into the room and saw Jisung snuggled under the blankets all you could think of was how lucky you were to get this experience.

You climbed into bed next to Jisung and he turned to look at you. "Y/N?"

You turned to him and smiled. "Yes Jisung?"

"Can we- I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but can we cuddle?" You giggled at his bashfulness.

"Yeah Jisung, we can cuddle." He let out a cute squeal of happiness and scooted towards you so he could wrap his arms around you. You snuggled your face into his chest and he let out a sigh of happiness.

"Goodnight Y/N."

"Goodnight Jisung."

~✨~

The next morning went so quickly. You and Jisung had to wake up way too early for your liking. Jisung got you a car like he promised and made sure you were coming back later that night. You swore you would and he gave you a big hug before ushering you into the car so he could go do a million things before their concert.

When you got back to the hotel room your bestie was still sleeping so you just got into the other bed and crashed. Still exhausted from staying up all night with Jisung.

In your dreams you were a princess in medieval times. You were lonely until one day your knight in shining armor showed up (Jisung of course) and he swept you off your feet. You had a forbidden romance because you were engaged to some prince you had never met from a faraway land. But in the end Jisung was actually the prince! He had come early to meet you under false pretenses to judge your character and he found you to be the perfect wife and you lived happily ever after. Until an earthquake hit. The ground shaking, loud noises all around you. More shaking.

And you woke up. To your bestie shaking you awake. Out of your lovely dream and into reality.

A reality where you quickly remembered, you had stayed with Jisung last night.

Holy fuck that actually happened?

"BITCH TELL ME EVERYTHING, WHEN DID YOU GET BACK?!"

After a long ass conversation where you told your bestie all the details you decided (well really she told you you had to) go hang out with Jisung again that night.

You decided to stay in the hotel all day with your bestie watching shitty rom-coms and laughing about all the cringey tropes movies use to catch your attention. You were just about crawling out of your skin trying to process the last 48 hours and decided to have a chill day to prepare for the long night ahead of you.

~✨~

It was about 11:30PM by the time you got an uber over to Jisung's hotel and you still were convinced that this was all a dream, but as you walked up to his door you were sure that this was in fact reality and you were going to the Han Jisung's room at almost midnight in just a hoodie and leggings. You seriously considered going back to your hotel to change but you suddenly heard a loud thud on the other side of the door and you reached up to knock on the door to make sure everything was alright.

When Jisung opened the door he had that huge smile on his face again and he pulled you in for a hug immediately, letting the door shut behind you.

"Oh my god I'm so glad you came I was worried you wouldn't show!" you started giggling and hugged him back.

"Of course I came silly, I would be an idiot not to! Plus I'm excited to see what movie you have for us tonight!" He giggled back and pulled away from the hug to walk over to the bed.

"I am feeling a bit daring tonight, how about we watch a scary movie?" You walked over and sat on the bed next to him.

"Okay but if I jump you have to promise not to make fun of me!" He giggled at that and grabbed the TV remote.

"Of course not! I'll just laugh in my head." You playfully slapped his arm and he dramatically fell onto the bed like he had just been shot which caused you to double over and laugh loudly.

He finally got up and turned on the TV searching through the horror movies.

"See anything you like?" Looking straight at him you replied a simple "Yeah." He looked up and saw you staring at him and giggled a little bit before picking a movie and turning it on.

You both leaned back and Jisung moved his arm behind you to hold onto you. You smiled and leaned into him as the movie played.

After about 30 minutes you realized that Jisung was just as afraid of horror movies as you were. You would both jump at the same time, yelp, and hold onto each other tighter as the scenes played out.

By the time the movie ended the two of you were completely tangled on the bed. You were almost half in his lap from the amount of times you burrowed into him during the scary scenes.

"Y/N? You okay?" Jisung looked down at where you had burrowed into his chest.

"Yeah, I just won't be able to sleep ever again so there's that." You both started laughing and his grip on you grew a little tighter.

"Well, no worries, you can stay here with me, I can protect you." He said with a sheepish smile on his face.

"But what about tomorrow? You're leaving so I'll have to sleep alone again." You said somberly. You looked up at him and he had a sad smile on his face.

Jisung lifted his hand and pushed the hair out of your face, then he let his hand linger on your cheek. He looked like he was contemplating something until you looked down at his lips. Then he slowly leaned in and kissed you.

You let yourself fall into the kiss, your arms wrapping tighter around him. He pulled you closer into him until you both pulled away for air. He leaned his forehead on yours.

"Would it be crazy if I asked you to come with us?" He whispered. His breath tickling your face.

"Would it be crazy if I said I would?" You breathed out. You heard his breath hitch and before you could process what was happening he had flipped you so you were laying on the bed with him hovering above you, his forehead pressed against yours again.

"Don't play with me love, I'm serious. Come with us. You can stay with me every night and I'll pay for your plane tickets and everything."

Holy fuck he was serious. You thought about it for a moment. You didn't have a job, you were month-to-month on your apartment so you could leave pretty much whenever. It's not like you had anything tying you down.

But then...

"What if you get sick of me? I'd have nowhere to go."

"Baby I'd never get sick of you, and if you ever want to leave I would pay for you to come home. I just don't want this to end." He leaned down and kissed you softly. Then he whispered, his lips touching yours, "I can't say goodbye yet."

You sadly smiled at the desperation, the sadness in his voice. You didn't want this to end either.

Instead of replying you pulled him down to you in a searing kiss. He reciprocated almost immediately and the kiss grew more heated. The two of you were tangled together in the most heated makeout session you'd ever had. He pulled away just long enough to rip his shirt off and throw it somewhere in the room. You eventually did the same.

After that everything was a blur of clothes flying and messy kisses. Eventually the both of you were completely naked and feeling each other up, hands roaming across one another's bodies. Finally Jisung slipped inside you and you both let out a breath you weren't aware you were holding.

He stilled inside you once he bottomed out and looked into your eyes.

"You are so beautiful."

You let a single tear fall as he began moving. The two of you panting and moaning as he set a steady speed. Sex had never been like this for you, it was like you breathed as one. You were gripping onto him in any way you could, grabbing his biceps, his waist, his face.

His thrust started to become erratic the longer you went, his hips getting a little sloppy to signal he was close. His hand came down to rub circles on your clit to get you there faster. You cried out in extasy as you felt the band in your lower belly snap. Jisung followed after a few more thrusts and laid his head down on your chest, his dick still settled inside you, slowly softening.

You both looked at each other and smiled. He pecked your nose, then your cheeks, and finally your lips before getting up to get a washrag to clean you both up.

You didn't know how long this would last, but you decided that you wanted to ride out this feeling as long as you could. So after you were both cleaned up and he settled in the bed next to you, you turned to face him.

"I'll come with you Ji, anywhere you are is where I want to be."

#skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #han jisung smut #jisung smut #han jisung hard hours #han jisung hard thoughts

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clavissionary-position · 2 months

Text

Ikepri ATK Alliance Crack

One afternoon in a certain undisclosed location...

Kagari: (sets his cutlery down) And then I told my family to go take a hike.

Matthias: I don't follow. How would a mere hike improve your clearly apocalyptic familial relations?

Kagari: I was telling them to get lost.

Matthias: But then wouldn't you, as their next of kin, have to go find them on the hiking trail? Putting aside how you're casually confessing a crime to me, you are a busy man. I don't think you'd have the time for all that?

Kagari: (aside to Azel) Does he have siblings? Can we just swap a different one in?

Azel: (saintly smile) The Living God does not err in his selections. Would you kindly peel my fruits for me?

Kagari: Hmph. (reaches for Azel's plate) The more time I spend with either of you, the more atheist I become.

Azel: I accept even those who do not accept me. Such is the grace of god. Not the figs, please. The dates.

Kagari: I'm not sitting here and peeling 37 dates for you. Or even a single one, because who in the world eats dates like that?

Matthias: I think there's 36.

Azel: 35. I ate one while waiting for it to be peeled. It tastes terrible. My tongue is screaming, crying, throwing up. I think I'm dying. Anyway, how are things in Owl Country, Matt?

Matthias: (stops performing the Heimlich maneuver on Azel) Oh, um, we're putting a brand new night patrol program into place.

Matthias: (super-proud) Actually, I've just received the prototype for the uniforms.

Matthias: (puts on an adorable owl-themed ear-flap hat)

Kagari: (ponytail quivers as he tries not to laugh)

Matthias: (serious) The owl is a respected symbol in Achroite. To laugh at The Owl is to laugh at Achroite itself. A grave crime indeed.

Azel: (nods ethereally) He's right. Just like the moon that watches over and sees all in Tanzanite, the owl, too, is a mysterious guardian, protector of man, knower of crimes.

Matthias: Beautiful. Poetic. I suspect this is why the owl and the moon are such natural allies.

Azel: (burps) Cool, yeah sure. Anyway, God is pleased with your initiative, Matt. And he will happily accept a generous tithing in exchange (holds out a palm as he cleanses his palate with the fig in his other hand)

Kagari: Aaand there it is. I'm not covering for you today, by the way, Matthias. And you still owe me from last time. If you even so much as think about paying me in those adorable, I mean stupid owl hats...

Matthias: A tithing? What for?

Azel: Was it not the infinite wisdom of God which guided the crayon-wielding hand that drew up such a wonderful design?

Matthias: (gasp) You can see my crayons? Are they okay?

Azel: (continues holding out palm as his eyes grow distant) Your crayons are well. They're sleeping like little baby sardines, right in the box that you so carefully placed them back into once you were done with your stupid, I mean adorable drawing.

Matthias: (relieved)

Matthias: Wait, hold on, are you trying to swindle me again? Not that I'm saying you swindled me the first time, or the second or tenth time...

Azel: (intense frown) I am a benevolent god!

Matthias: O-Oh, right, right. Please forgive me for speaking out of turn (scavenges around in the upside-down owl hat he's using as a coin purse)

Kagari: (casually admiring his reflection on his katana blade) Congratulations, Matt. You dreamed up a stupid hat and paid someone else for your own stupid idea. If someone told me you were the most accomplished fool in all of Achroite, I'd believe it.

Azel: (wearing one of the owl hats) So you don't want one of the hats?

Kagari: (also wearing one of the hats) I said I didn't want more than 40 or 50!

Matthias: Oh… (sitting among boxes of hundreds of hats labeled "Gifts for my new friends")

#ikemen prince #ikepri spoilers #ikepri azel #ikepri matthias #ikepri kagari #incorrect quote folder

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sirenlulls · 11 months

Text

call it what you want → r. valdovinos

pairing — richie valdovinos x fem!reader

summary — after a cold night and shared secret insecurities, something as simple as your outfit puts richie's mind at ease.

written for this request

i want to wear his initial on a chain 'round my neck. not because he owns me, but 'cause he really knows me...

you were beautiful, richie knew that. in fact, most of the rydell student body, and anybody else with eyes, knew that. your eyes were downcast, bashfully following the cracks in the pavement of your driveway as he walked you to the door, his jacket wrapped tightly around your shoulders.

when you got to the door, you seemed to finally notice his staring, and richie felt his heart stop when you laughed at his lovestruck face. he almost didn't care that you were laughing at him. you looked at each other for a few beats more, not daring to break the sweet silence that hung between you.

but the fall chill was starting to seep into your bones, and you found yourself twisting the doorknob, snapping richie out of his daze. "i guess i should get going then." his words were hesitant as he scratched the back of his neck.

"yeah." you nodded before casting your eyes inside, seeing the lights off and realising your parents were asleep. "unless..." your words made richie spin back around to face you so fast you wouldn't be surprised if he had whiplash. "unless you want to come inside for a bit?"

"yes. mhm. absolutely." he nodded, jogging back up to the door where you stood giggling, quietly closing the door behind him and taking his hand and leading him to your room.

you kicked off your shoes and fell onto your bed, richie following suit. staring at the ceiling in comfortable quiet, your hand found his, and with a tight squeeze they rested intertwined between you both.

richie looked around your room, eyes casting over the pink ladies jacket hanging over the chair by your desk, the full bookshelves lined around the walls, the pile of books you had no other space for beside them, and finally the pinboard by your vanity and the pictures that decorated it.

it was moments like that, no matter how few and far between they were, where richie realised just how different the two of you were, and why nobody else knew about your relationship. you were popular, loved, adored, despite your proud pink lady alignments. he wasn't. it wasn't that you were ashamed of him, you don't think you ever could be, but richie knew how important your future was and hell would freeze over before he let himself be the reason you fall from grace.

"what's goin' on in that head of yours?" you asked softly, lying on your side and looking at him with a fond smile. he shook his head. "it's nothin'" you sat up straight, suddenly more concerned. "that means it's definitely something." richie sighed, sitting beside you. "c'mon, rich, talk to me." he looked at you, brows furrowed in desperation and hand gently cupping his face.

"are you really sure i'm the one you want?"

silence.

"excuse me?"

"it's just- i don't know, you could have lot more than i can give you. 'ts all i'm saying." he raised his hands in defense at your raised brows and dropped jaw.

"richie valdovinos, listen to what i'm about to say, and listen real good. i wouldn't care if elvis presley himself was knocking at my door, ready to take me to graceland, i'd still choose you. i will always choose you. i don't care what else you think i could have because i already have everything i want — everything i need. i love you, don't ever forget that."

"you really mean that?" he looked away, suddenly overwhelmed by the tenderness of your stare, you guided him to face you again. "i mean it with everything in me."

you kissed him then, slow and heartfelt, and he only wished that you could feel every sentiment he couldn't yet put into words. how, no matter how much you say you love him, he'll always insist he loves you more. and he does. ever since the day he met you, richie's heart wasn't his own, it sat locked away in your pretty ballerina jewelry box, and it would stay there forevermore.

he pulled away only when his lungs burned and he felt as if he'd die, forehead resting against yours. "i should be getting back home." you rolled your lips. "call me when you get there so i know you're okay." "of course." with one fleeting kiss and a cheeky smile, richie crept down the stairs and out the door. you flopped back into your pillows, dumb smile on your face and butterflies in your stomach.

it wasn't until long after he was gone, when he'd hung up the phone and probably gone to sleep, that you realised his t-birds jacket lay on your floor. you picked it up and set it over your vanity chair, and, with a light bulb over your head, you knew what you'd do tomorrow.

"y/n, bust a move, we're gonna be late!" cynthia yelled from outside. you stuck your head out your bedroom window, smiling at your friend, "one minute!" you looked in the mirror, tightening your ponytail and fixing your lipstick, spinning around and admiring your outfit, grinning proudly and the t-bird logo staring back at you. you practically ran down the stairs towards cynthia who wolf-whistled at richie's jacket. "when can i get me one of those?" she joked, handing you a spare helmet as you hopped onto her bike. "i'll put in a good word for you." you winked back.

when you got to the school, you could feel eyes burning into your sides and whispers buzzing through your ears. jane and olivia walked up to you two, matching smirks on their faces and excited gleams in their eyes. "so that's why he didn't have the jacket this morning." olivia mused, nudging you with her elbow as you all walked to your locker.

"does this mean you guys are, like, official official now? like, public official?" jane asked, squealing and grabbing your arm when you nodded.

"what is this?" nancy demanded, suddenly appearing at the locker beside yours. "where's the pink lady represention? there's enough t-birds to carry their own weight, they don't need to steal you too." you laughed, throwing your arm around her shoulder. "nobody's stealing me, nance. still a pink lady through and through. if it makes you feel any better, i can try get richie to wear my jacket next time."

"i'd like that!" cynthia interruped, making you all laugh. nancy failed to hide her smile. "i guess it's sort of cute." the five of you started to walk to class, gossiping and giggling over the incredulous looks you got.

"didn't know you were a thief, l/n." someone teased from behind you, you turned around to see richie smiling at you. "it's for a good cause." you turned and nodded your head slightly to the girls, telling them to go ahead and you'd catch up. "oh yeah? what would that cause be?" "fashion," you leaned closer to whisper to him, "and to show everyone i have a very handsome, very amazing boyfriend." he smiled, biting the inside of his cheek. "well, who would i be to stop such a noble mission? keep it for now. it looks good on you." you beamed and kissed his cheek, laughing at the slight stain it left behind.

"you'll look even better in mine." you winked before turning on your heel and running to catch up with the girls. "wait, what?!" he responded. "you have to return the favour yet, valdovinos!" you called over your shoulder, throwing your head back in a laugh.

richie shook his head fondly as gil came up beside him, clapping a hand down on his shoulder. "am i looking at the latest pink lady?" he teased. "shut up, man." richie laughed, shoving him off, looking down the hallway to see you laughing with Nancy once more before going to your class.

#requested ✉️#richie valdovinos x reader #grease: rise of the pink ladies x reader #grease: rise of the pink ladies #rise of the pink ladies x reader #grease x reader #cynthia zdunowski #richie valdovinos #jane facciano #olivia valdovinos #nancy nakagawa

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din-miller · 11 months

Text

ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: pirates come looking for Grogu but find you alone in the cabin instead

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of decapitation, no angst, yeah you read that right decapitation but no angst to be found in this bad boy, it's just comical trash, crack fic really, reader is a sarcastic asshole, married couple, slightly unhinged reader, Din even more so and don't get me started on Grogu, cabin fic, mentions of Moff Gideon, mentions of med-school drop out reader,

A/N: this started off as a serious fic full of sorrow, then somehow turned into a night time comedy special. I'm proud of myself.

You don't normally let Din and Grogu head to the marketplace without you, but you woke up with a sore throat this morning and it hasn't gone away. You tried to convince your husband to let you join them. Fresh air would do you good, you had helplessly reasoned.

"Fresh air does nothing for sore throats. Rest does though mesh'la." Din argued back.

"Oh I didn't realise you were the one who dropped out of med school."

Needless to say, you didn't win that argument.

So now you're stuck in a cabin that you didn't know could be so quiet. For there only being three of you, the house is constantly loud. To be fair Grogu is now speaking in full sentences.

You've been alone before without them, but this time there's something unsettling. Like a bad omen is lurking in the daylight.

You should've contacted Din the moment the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. But you didn't and now you're standing in the living room with two men as you stare down the barrel of a blaster.

"You're going to regret this," You sighed, dramatically, "Look, I'm currently in the middle of making dinner and I have a sore throat. Can we get this over with?"

The tall one – let's call him Lance – glanced over at the short one – Manny. Yeah, that suits him – and sent him a baffled look.

"Where's The Child?" Manny growled and despite knowing you'll win this, you always do, your stomach turned at knowing they're here for your son.

With a shrug you crossed your arms non threateningly, "It's just me here. I'll let you know if I see a child though."

Lance glanced around the room, "You have a lot of kids toys for not having a kid."

"What? A person can't have a hobby?" You raised your brow, acting mildly offended.

Manny stepped forward, hand tightening around his weapon, "Enough! I know you have The Child. Give him to us and we won't kill you. Deal?"

"A deal?" You scoffed, "Why the hell would I make a deal with some lousy pirate? You're not even holding your blaster properly."

He looked down at his weapon, brows drawn tightly together, "I'm not?"

You tisked and pointed to the gun, "Allow me?"

When he gave a small nod you stepped forward, "Here, one hand grips right here... Good, now loosen this hand."

As soon as the blaster is loose enough you grabbed it out of his hand and pressed it against the lower region of his body. He froze, eyes going comically wide.

Lance, being weaponless already, raised his hands in an act of surrender. Honestly when you first felt like you were being watched you thought it would be a little more exciting than this. There's always next Monday you guess.

"You two are actually doing me a favour, bearing you don't have any allergies," You waited for them to shake their heads, "Good. Follow me into the kitchen. See, I've been trying out a recipe for my husband and I's anniversary – it's this weekend, you're not invited. Anyways, I'm not sure I have the correct level of spice to it."

"I'm sure your husband will enjoy it."

"Thank you Lance," You smiled and held a fork full of spicy food to his mouth. You watched as he took in the flavour and deemed it plenty spiced enough, "I'll get you boys a plate full."

Your eyes darted back and forth as they ate, taking in every reaction they had to each bite. It's a silent meal, rather uncomfortable for them you imagine.

Manny set down his fork, "This is our last meal isn't it?"

You blew out a breath, "Sometimes you gotta learn the hard way that your actions have consequences."

Lance politely raised his hand, "Can I have a glass of water?"

"Unfortunately, Lance, you can't. You know why? Because you're trying to murder my family, that's why." You growled, then cocked your head towards the door leading outside, "Now do I have to tie you both to the porch or can I trust you to behave and sit like good boys?"

"We'll behave," Lance said, stepping over the cabin's entry doorway, "Right Manny?"

The short man huffed, "I ain't itching for a blaster fire to the back, Lance."

They both sat on the bench and leaned back against the wall. You took a seat opposite of them, perched on top of the railing you had installed after you moved in.

"Who do you work for?" You asked, blaster twirling in your hand, safety on.

Manny rolled his eyes, "We work for ourselves."

You hummed, "Why us? Why the kid?"

"Figured it would be an easy target now that the Mandalorian is dead."

For the first time since he interrupted your day, you're taken back at his words, "Dead, you say?"

"Yeah, in the fight with Moff Gideon." Lance explained, "We heard you adopted his son."

You have to give him credit for knowing at least that part. You did adopt Grogu. Married Din the same day too.

How many people out there think Din's dead? And who's the dumbass that thought Moff Gideon could kill Din?

Your eyes narrowed in on Lance when his jaw dropped and you could see the faint shine of sweat gathered at his temple, "Am I seeing things?"

"Oftentimes yes, but that's him," Manny shrunk in on himself, eyes forward in horror, "That's the Mandalorian."

You look back behind you, your eyes locking in on your husband. He looks furious, even underneath all his armour. His blaster is already in his hand and floating beside him is Grogu. Your son has his hand held up directly in front of him, eyes squinted – a warning.

This is the proudest you've ever been.

"Ner kar'ta," Din's hands are on you, moving different parts of your clothing around searching for a wound he won't find, "Are you okay?"

Lance nodded, "A little parched – oh, you're not talking to me, right that makes more sense."

You smiled down at the man. He's absolutely hopeless, but it gives him a fun personality. Too bad he has to die.

"I'm okay, I promise," You reassured him, "How was the marketplace?"

"Dull without you there to keep us company," Din said, Grogu nodding in agreement, "How was resting?"

You glanced down at the two men, "I had some unwanted visitors interrupting my relaxation."

Din looked them over, "Why are they unharmed?"

"The only weapon I had in reach was Manny's blaster," You held up the weapon while simultaneously introducing Manny to your husband, "Felt wrong to kill a man with his own gun."

Din pulled Manny up by the back of his shirt, the short man standing on his tippy toes to avoid strangulation.

Manny patted Din's beskar chest piece of armour, "Look Mr. Mandalorian, this is all a misunderstanding-,"

"Yeah," Lance stood up and his friend shook his head, silently telling him to stop, "We thought you were dead."

Din dropped Manny. The man crumbled to the ground, Din's foot pinning him down. You watched as your husband's attention turned to Lance.

"And that gave you permission to hunt down my riduur and child?" He growled, every bit the Mandalorian these pirates fear, "Tell me why I shouldn't put your head on a pike for all your pirate friends to see."

Lance turned to you for help. You looked past him to your husband and nodded, "It would give me much pleasure to see shabuirs like them displayed as an example to why no one touches my family."

"What my riduur wants, they shall receive," Din hauled both men up, his grip tight enough to leave nasty bruises on their skin, "This should only take two hours. Longer if the tall one is stupid enough to run his mouth."

"Two hours!" Manny exclaimed, "I can cut my own head off in less than a minute. I'll even save you some effort and behead Lance too!"

"You don't understand," Din grinned under his helmet, body humming with anticipation, "The effort is my favourite part," Din nodded his head in your direction, "Eat without me, mesh'la. I'll be back in time to tuck Grogu in."

"I'll have the shower ready for you when you get home," You promised, "Oh, and make sure to take your time, alright?"

Din activated his jetpack, throwing down a quick 'i love you' before taking off. You looked down at Grogu, "Your buir and I will never let anything or anyone hurt you. We love you, kid"

#i grew attached to Lance 😭#din djarin x reader #married couple | the mandalorian #the mandalorian #din djarin x gender neutral reader #sir grogu #grogu included fic #crack fic #din djarin fic #justice joy writes

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j-nope-not-today · 11 months

Note

Ok, so I've got quite the doozy for you! how would each of the turtle brothers try and help their bro if one of them was getting married and they're trying to put together a wedding ceremony?

TMNT helping with their brothers wedding

A/n: thanks so much for requesting! I hope I got what you were imagining and sorry it took so long!

Raphael

Alright so for starters..he's gonna tease the all living hell out of his brother... doesn't matter who it is.

Their getting teased.

Then he's gonna throw in the sincere congratulations, but it's only gonna be him and said brother.

Raph isn't getting sentimental with anyone else around. No way

He isn't the best planner

Let's be so for real he'll probably need help from everyone else to plan any sort of wedding ceremony

The only thing you can guarantee he'll have done is his speech

Ohh..he's gonna have a bomb ass speech and he's definitely gonna have someone shedding tears

But despite his planning fallbacks he is really happy for his brother and I can definitely see him secretly crying at the wedding and defending himself with

"what? Did someone cut an onion?"

He's a softie..we all know it..but he's gonna act all tough.

Leonardo

Surprisingly I think Leo would be the life of the party..which hear me out

Yes he's all serious and leader-ish

But when it comes to his brothers wedding he lets loose

He plans the fuck out of the wedding

He goes all out with everything

It's definitely gonna fancy

One word..well two: chocolate fountain

Yeah.. that's right he's got one for the buffet table.

He'll invite everyone he absolutely can

It's gonna be a blast for everyone present

He's gonna freeze up on his speech though but float past it because he planned a great ceremony

And when the night winds down before his brother takes off with his new partner..

Leo is going to be shedding a tear and squeezing his bro in a death grip hug with the words

"I'm so proud of you.."

Donatello

Let's start off by saying he is very happy for his brother

But he isn't gonna be the best at showing it

Donnie can't really express his joy completely..he's weird like that

But he does put in a lot of effort to help plan the ceremony

He'll help with the banquet and who will sit where..

Donnie will take on the unfun planning stuff and plan it so his bro can be stress free

That's donnie's way of showing his happiness for his brother

He isn't gonna give a speech unless he's thrown into it

Then it's gonna be a stuttered mess of a speech but at least he's doing it

And he's probably gonna pull his brother to the side where no one can hear to tell him

"sorry if I'm being weird..it's just hard, because I'll see you less..and I don't know what to do without you around.."

It is then and only then that he'll crack a smile and hold his brother tight

Michelangelo

Mikey is HYPED

All caps because he is just so beyond happy for his brother

Though the planning of the ceremony is going to be absolutely hectic

He is chaos

So someone is going to have to keep him on track

Otherwise Mikey is honestly pretty good at planning

Though don't ask him why the buffet has like five different types of pizza

Because he doesn't know how that happened?

His speech is all over the place and he's crying in the middle of it

Full on crocodile tears

"I'm so happy for you..I can't wait to see you have little babies bro and i-"

He could go on and on all night

But he's truly super happy!

#teenage mutant ninja turtles x reader #tmnt 2014 #tmnt bayverse #tmnt imagine #tmnt x reader #tmnt donatello #tmnt mikey #tmnt leonardo #tmnt ralph

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