#I have not seen this friends feet in almost 8 years | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

i-love-scarameowche · 1 month

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yandere!gojo taking depressed readers virginity? i'd personally prefer if it'd be non con but if u dont want to it's okay!

Yan Gojo x depressed reader <3

TW: NSFW, noncon/rape, virginity loss, unprotected sex, using spit as lube, soft sex(mostly), creampie, mentions of depression(reader has depression obv), bad hygiene, yandere behavior, fem!reader.

WC: 1.9k

Other Gojo x depressed reader: <33

A/N: ofc!!!! Sorry it took so long, I hope it's what you wanted<3

Satoru has waited for so long. He waited when you got a boyfriend who didn't care about you, he waited as you cried to him about how your boyfriend was rude to you, and he waited when you came and cried about how your boyfriend went missing.

He wanted it to be real. Really real.

But he just can't wait anymore. It's been years.

So, he snuck into your apartment while you were sleeping, he has a key because you gave him one. You'd never think that your friend of so many years would do what he's about to do.

And so, Satoru walked to your room with swift steps and opened the door. He lowers his head as he walks into your room, he glances at your sleeping body. His blindfold is pulled down, he wants to fully see and feel you tonight. But he keeps it just in case something happens and he needs to put it over your eyes. He knows you haven't been able to really make yourself feel good like you deserve; Not with how little your fingers reach, which leaves you to just put a pillow between your legs and grind your clit against it through your clothes while playing with your nipples.

Satoru walks through the dark room and to the side of your bed, his piercing blue eyes glowing in the room which has no lights on. Not even a faint glow from the kitchen light seeps into the bedroom through the door, because he turned off all of the lights.

He slowly slips the blankets off you, causing you to move just a bit as he does it. He catches every movement from you, down to the twitches of your feet and up to your lips parting. Satoru puts a knee on your bed and it dips underneath his weight. He moves on top of you with his hands beside your head and his knees by your thighs. His eyes are practically unblinking as they shine. He looks at the plushie that he gave you while you were both younger, sitting on your shelf. You change it's spot around your room a lot. Sometimes you bring it to bed with you to cuddle, other times it's accidentally under your bed.

He put a camera in it, like he did with many other things in your house. He can't always be focused on you, but he can rewind the footage and watch as long as he saves it, which he always does. He knows you're still a virgin, and he still considers himself one. He never came while inside of them, even if he was wearing a condom. He just wanted to know how to pleasure you best, but he's sure he knows now. And all it'll ever be after this is you, and him. Satoru takes off his shirt, still staring at you with unyielding eyes. He never breaks eye contact with your closed eyelids, even as he slips out of his boxers and throws them aside, along with the rest of his clothes. He makes quick and swift work with your shirt, then your pants, then your underwear. He knows how long it's been since your last shower, it's been 8 days. To him, it just proves how much you need him, even if you don't know it yet.

As he looks down at your chest, his dick can't help but twitch. Your nipples are so pretty...he's seen them in recording but, they're even more so in person. His hand reaches down, his fingertips wrapping around one of your nipples ever so softly.

Satoru pinches softly, your nipple getting hard in response. He sits back on his knees, his other hand moving down to your stomach, softly going over your belly button before reaching your pubic hair. You don't shave, and if you do you almost never shave your pubic hair. It's hard for you to just shave one leg, and besides, you thought you wouldn't have sex for a while longer, and that when you were going to, you'd have time to prepare before.

Satoru doesn't mind, it's oddly..cute to him. He knows how bad this would seem if you wake up–he's not delusional–but it'll be fine in the end. He'll make sure of it.

And so, he lifts his hand to his mouth, covering his fingers in some saliva, before he moves his hand down again, cupping your sex. Satoru's finger prods a bit at your pussy, before he slides it in slowly and gently. He doesn't want to risk waking you up yet. Once his finger is inside of you halfway, he pulls it out again before pushing it back in, fully this time. His fingers are long and slender, though thick at the same time, and they hit deep, deeper than you've reached before. Your eyebrows furrow and your lips part just a bit more than before.

Satoru's thumb moves to your clit, moving around a bit to find it-which he quickly does-and then he presses down and rubs. Your legs twitch a bit and your breath hitches. He feels you starting to get a little wet, and he continues. He slowly adds another finger, stretching you. You're so tight. He's so happy that he's the one that's going to be your first time. He's always been in god's favor, hasn't he?

After a little bit, Satoru stops and takes his fingers out of you. He moves his hands from their current positions, one moving to your thigh to spread your legs a bit, and the other moves to his dick.

Satoru softly pumps his cock, before aligning it to your wet hole. He wonders what you're dreaming about, if you're even dreaming. He pushes forward slowly, sinking into your warmth.

Once an inch enters you, your eyes flutter, not yet opening, and he pauses his movements. After a few moments, you return like you were before, and Satoru slowly begins to push in once again.

Satoru continues to sink in inch after thick inch, and when he's about halfway in, you wake up.

"What..? Ow.." You wince, your eyebrows furrowing as your eyes open a bit. The stretch from Satoru's cock burns. You've only ever used 2 fingers on yourself, and even that burned. So of course this isn't going to feel nice. Especially considering what's going on.

Satoru's eyes are all you can see, a dead giveaway really.

"Satoru? What-" You mumble out, starting to try and move away from Satoru.

"Baby calm down it's okay. S'just me sweetheart.." Satoru murmurs, stopping your from moving as he puts one of his hands under your knee, pushing your thigh to your chest, and his other doing the same.

That, of course, doesn't calm you down.

"Get off me!" You exclaim, starting to try and push at Satoru, wanting him off of you. Your eyes are tearing up as Satoru resumes pushing his member into your pussy, your blood soon begins to coat his length. He doesn't like the thought of making you bleed–even whilst he's making love to you–but he knows he needs to bear through it for now. For the both of you.

Satoru just sighs softly, his gaze lowering as he bottoms out, as though this is hurting him more than it hurts you. "Stop! Please..." You choke starting to cry as you struggle and hit and scratch Satoru. Why is this happening? Why is Satoru, of all people, doing this to you? You never would've thought for even a second that he would do this to anyone. But here he is. You wonder why he's doing this. You don't understand.

"Baby..Stop acting like this." He's not even looking at you. If he feels guilty why won't he just stop? Satoru moves his hand from the pit of your knee to holding your ankle on his shoulder.

"Jus-Just get off me...please..I-I won't tell anyone! W-We can just pretend it never happened....please just stop.." You sob, tears starting to stream down your face as Satoru just turns his head and kisses your ankle that's sitting on his shoulder. It would be sweet if he wasn't violating you right now.

Satoru moves his hips back a small bit, before barely thrusting them forward, trying to get you used to him. You feel so warm and tight around him, it feels like heaven. He's struggling to not cum inside of you right now.

“S'okay baby, I got you..” Satoru breathes out, starting to thrust faster into your warmth as you let out choked wails.

“You’re taking me so well baby...so so well.” He whines, completely lost in the feeling of you. Satoru leans down to kiss away your tears, your hands trying to push away his face as you scratch at his cheeks. He doesn't seem to care, which only makes you feel more helpless as he just picks up the pace of his thrusts.

"Ple-ase.." You mumble, your tears staining your lips, making them wet as you cry. You don't know what to do or say. What could you even do against Satoru? He's practically a god. The thought doesn't make you feel any better.

Satoru just continues to kiss your face, not even wincing or moving away as you scratch his face.

Your hips buck when his cock rubs against your g-spot. He lets go of the under to your knee and he moves that hand down to rub at your clit. Satoru's head lowers until his mouth is sucking on your neck. You only continue to sob and try and push Satoru away. One of your legs is free, but you can't do anything with it. Your hips and legs twitch involuntarily as Satoru rubs and presses down on your clit. He begins to bite at your neck, sucking on the spot afterwards.

"St-op...I don-'t want-" The words spill out of your mouth as Satoru feels your cunt squeeze his cock as you cum.

Satoru's pace gets sloppy before he stops thrusting entirely, just rutting into you as his eyes screw shut. "Hah-hhhh...fuckfuck...I love you so much-" He cries out, ropes of cum spurting from his cock as tears start to form in his eyes. It feels like Satoru's cum is infinite, but eventually it stops. You hiccup out a sob, and Satoru just lays down on top of you, his arms wrapping around you and his dick still hard inside of you as his cum slowly leaks out of your aching pussy.

But, he decides to pull out. He doesn't really want to, but he doesn't want your first time with him to be so forceful.

"I got'cha baby" Satoru hums as he picks you up, you've given up on trying to push him away. You just lay limp in his grasp, your tears starting to dry on your cheeks and under your eyes.

Satoru walks you to your bathroom, begrudgingly cleaning you up before he sits you on the toilet. Once you're finished, he brings you back to bed and lays with you, his arms keeping you still in an iron grip.

He kissed you before settling down with you to sleep. Or rather, waiting for you to sleep so he can watch you.

Extra notes: it's a little soft but yeah !!! I have not posted in awhile but I'm gonna try to post more soon <3

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azsazz · 3 months

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Midnight Muse (Part 15)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: Mentions of throwing up, doesn't actually happen.

Word Count: 4,008

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Masterlist]

Notes: ENJOY. Also, someone plz tell me they got tagged this time 😭

_________________________________________

Everything fucking hurts.

Your head is throbbing like someone is repeatedly hitting you with a hammer. You can’t even open your eyes because the dots of light in your vision are swimming in circles, and you’re pretty sure if you crack your eyes open and squint into the room you’ll surely lose the contents of your stomach, which is still mostly alcohol from last night.

You groan in agony because it’s the only thing you can do. Curling in further on yourself, you tug the covers up over your head, trying to block as much of the sun, creeping steadily in through the windows, as you can.

A deep inhale to try and ease your stomach brings along the scent of freshness; like night-chilled mist and cedar. The smell is so perfectly balanced, familiar and fresh in your aching lungs that it almost lulls you back to sleep. It’s effortlessly masculine and with another luxurious inhale, your brain connects the scent to its familiarity. It’s the same as the soap you’d used when you were forced to stay the night at the apartment next door, while Feyre and Rhysand had been having their public nudy show in your living room.

You want to snuggle into it, wallow in its comfort all day, but your mind is quickly catching up to you, running that specific thought back a second time, but slower.

It smells like the same soap you’d used when you were at Azriel’s apartment after the rainstorm.

Your eyes snap open and your body jolts into an upright position that makes your stomach roil, shoving your head down between your knees.

Fuck. You drank way too much last night.

You blink away the bleariness, the dizziness from your vision, staring down at your lap. You’re still wearing the clothes you’d ambled over to Cassian’s party in, and the fabric sticks to your skin uncomfortably. You feel like shit all around, sick from the alcohol, dirty from the night spent dancing and sweating, and you’re pretty sure your breath smells like you’d licked the floor of the local dive bar.

Another blink brings the sheets into focus, certainly ones that are not yours. These are a deep charcoal color, softer and smoother than anything you’ve ever touched. The thread count must be in the thousands. The mattress beneath your aching body feels like a cloud, and all of the effort that went into curating such a lovely bed surely shouldn’t be wasted.

You’re impressed for all of a few seconds until you lift your head and realize where you are.

Azriel’s room.

It’s easy to tell because your memories of last night slowly roll in like flipping through pages of your sketchbook.

“Look,” Cassian grunts as you stumble again and he has to put you on your feet again. He’s faring slightly better than you right now, but only because there are women to flirt with. “I know our friendship is still kind of new, but if you keep hanging all over me like this you’re going to scare away the ladies.”

You can’t help but to laugh. It feels good, so good that your chest aches with it. Your cheeks are red with drink, and Cassian hasn’t ever seen you grinning so much.

It kind of scares him.

“Where are your keys?” he continues, his hands warm on your hips where he’s trying to keep you from falling flat on your face. Maybe that last shot you’d taken together had been one too many. “Can I pat down your pockets?”

“I know you wanna feel me up, Cass,” you slur playfully, and his name sounds snake-like, with the way you drag out the S.

“Of course I do, (Y/N), any man would be stupid not to want you,” he comments but his words don’t register because the floor is slipping out from under your feet again.

“Feyre has the keys,” you hiccup. Then, “Are we on a roller coaster? The room is spinning.”

Cassian curses, poking his head out of the crowd to search for your missing roommate. She’s with Rhys, no doubt, but he doesn’t see them in the mass of bodies crowding his apartment. What he does see are a lot of disappointed, single women.

He gestures to you and then slices his hand under his chin in a cutting motion, signaling that he’s not with you, even though you’ve wilted against his chest, rubbing your cheek into the soft fabric of his shirt. Cassian watches his message land, their eyes sparkling in intrigue again, and he doesn’t care, he needs to get you somewhere safe so he can take that pretty brunette and her friend to his room.

The safest place in the apartment he knows is Azriel’s room.

“Oh my fucking Gods,” you groan, holding your head when your curse rings in your ears. Of course you’re in Azriel’s room, because you’re fated to end up in situations that will make him hate you even more.

Slowly, you shove the blankets away, slipping your legs over the edge of the bed. The good news is, you feel like you’ve slept for a hundred hours. The other good thing is that you didn’t throw up anywhere in his room that you can see, or smell.

The bad news is that you don’t know where Azriel is.

But at least he’s not currently here to witness you rising from the dead.

Blindly, you reach for you phone, patting across the table next to the bed. In the back of your throat sits a lump that you consciously work to swallow down. Later, you might regret not purging the rest of the sickness from your body, but the last place you want to do that is here, in Azriel’s room. What the fuck did you end up drinking last night? You remember the flaming shots and Cassian throwing out a partygoer who looked awfully familiar.

Then there had been Mor, who had told you all about Rhysand growing up over a few drinks. The longer Cassian had forced the two of you to talk, presumably so he could sneak off to flirt with girls while you were distracted with each other, the more Rhysand’s cousin seemed to relax. Those cutting looks had turned from pinning you to your spot to glaring at any of the girls who came up to the both of you to ask about the hosts of the party.

Mor’s stories had you seeing your roommate’s boyfriend in a different light. And the embarrassing ones were even better. Like the one time they had gone sledding down the slope of Mor’s family home in Colorado. It had been a steep incline and they’d been warned many times not to go down there, but the fresh snow had been all too tantalizing not to.

Their punishment had been to walk back up the hill to the house, and when they were small the trek felt like it was ten thousand steps high. And they had to carry their sleds behind them. Rhysand had thrown up halfway and Mor had gotten sick from the tears of laughter streaming down her face afterwards.

Cassian’s words cut through the smile trying to sluice across your face. Azriel had said something about a date. Your stomach revolts but you don’t know why. The thought of Azriel missing out on one of Cassian’s parties doesn’t seem out of character for the broody man, but going on a date? This is the first you’ve heard about Azriel doing so. You know much more than you’d like to know about his roommates’ sexual lives, but you didn’t think Azriel was even open to going out. You don’t know why you care.

You don’t.

It doesn’t sound as convincing as it may have once been.

He’s ridiculously attractive, so why wouldn’t he be going on dates? He probably has a plethora of phone numbers from girls begging to go out with him. So many that it makes your teeth grind at the thought.

Your fingers connect with your phone and your head throbs at the brightness of your screen, rivaling the sun’s rays spearing through the blinds.

And then you see the time.

“Shit,” you curse, scrambling for the shoes someone had kindly taken off for you. They’re piled at the foot of the bed.

You’re late for class.

Gods, you don’t remember the last time you drank like this. Must have been sometime last year because even with all the wine you’d consumed during your pottery painting with Feyre, Cassian, and Rhysand, you hadn’t felt this badly. This is a next level hangover.

You brace yourself when your hand lands on the doorknob to his room. There’s a lock and it’s flipped shut, so you turn it back carefully, breathing a sigh of relief when the click is quiet.

You freeze in your tracks, breath catching in your throat when you slide the door open.

Azriel is lying on the couch, his body splayed out in a long line. His shirt has risen from where he’s lifted his arm, resting it over his eyes to block the sun coming in through the windows, revealing the cut of his hips. There’s two tattoos painted on the skin that you hadn’t noticed the other night, a pair of feathered wings lining the defining muscle of his hips.

You lick your lips before realizing that in the quiet of the apartment, Azriel is fast asleep. The steady rise and fall of his chest helps give him away. That, and the fact that he’s not snarking at you or shooting daggers in your direction.

It’s your saving grace.

The coffee table shoved in front of the couch is littered with cups and rolling paper wrappers, alcohol spilled across its surface. You have no idea how the glass tabletop has survived the rowdy part unscathed, because you’re pretty sure there was one point in the night where you saw a girl standing on top of it, readying herself to fall into the crowd of people congregated in the living room.

The floor is much the same, and you feel like you’re walking a minefield as you tiptoe around questionable puddles and garbage. The stench of alcohol in the air makes your head spin, your stomach protesting and you press a hand to it, trying to comfort the ache.

You escape the apartment without waking Azriel, breathing a sigh of relief that has the remainders of your final drink swimming up your throat.

You make a run for your apartment next door, and thankfully, Feyre answers your knocking.

You don’t like the knowing look she’s wearing, but she doesn’t pester you while you make a break for the bathroom.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Surprisingly, it doesn’t take you long to get ready for class.

You’d told Feyre to go on ahead without you when she had knocked softly on the door while you had your head in the toilet, but the sound still clanged through your head like a gong. She was going to get coffee with Rhysand before class and asked if you wanted anything, to which you gratefully accepted.

Even though you have plans to meet Lucien at the coffeehouse for a drink, you need something now or you’re afraid that you won’t make it through the day.

As badly as you want to go and be a hermit in bed all day, you don’t want to miss your classes. Alis is bringing in another model and grading what you come up with in class, and you don’t want to be docked points for missing out.

Your other class for the day is Art History, and you need to show up to be able to drink in as much of the different styles of art as possible.

Dressing quickly, your clothes stick to your freshly-showered skin. You shove a baseball cap over your hair because while you had the time to wash your body, your hair had been left neglected until later tonight.

Slinging your backpack over your shoulder, you snag your sketchbook from your desk, shoving all of the loose papers hanging out the edges inside. It’s a haphazard job at best, but you’re already running too late for your liking, and you can organize them later.

Like as you wait for the Gods-awful elevator your apartment building has.

The queasiness in your stomach has gone down but the piece of toast you’d forced yourself to eat threatens to come right back up when you spot Azriel, his own backpack slung over his shoulder, waiting for the elevator.

You can still turn around and hide away, there’s definitely still time to—of course he’s turning around at the sound of your approaching footsteps.

His golden eyes glitter with amusement and you can’t shove away the shiver that slides down your spine like a paint filled brush as he trails you from head to toe.

“Sleep well?” He asks gruffly, and the sound of his voice makes your knees weak. Tripping on your next step, your sketchbook goes flying from your hands, spilling the loose papers you’d just stuffed in there everywhere.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you can hear Azriel curse in surprise, but you feel the hot mortification slicing through your body. There are sketches of his hands fluttering to the ground. Ones you had drawn while working on your last project for Alis’ class, the one where you drew Leonardo’s Study of Hands. Azriel’s had been your inspiration, and there’s sketches of them in all sorts of poses, some more promiscuous than others, and you’re completely fucking mortified.

You drop to your knees, face burning red as you scoop the papers closer to you, praying that he doesn’t see. Azriel’s already crouching down with you, helping gather some of the drawings, and the fact that this is the first time he’s ever seen any of your work is overshadowed by the fact that there’s a piece of thick drawing paper right next to his boot. It’s creased from its fall, half of it turned up at an angle. You can see the wavy lines you’d tried so hard to recreate from memory. If he picks that up and looks at it you will have to transfer schools.

“Don’t touch that,” you almost screech when his fingers close around the edge of the paper. You watch it in slow motion, the clench of his jaw, the way that his eyes flick down to his hands, marred flesh fully on display. Oh Gods, you think you might throw up all over again. He thinks you mean that you don’t want him to touch your things because of his fucking hands. Your throat tightens, heart beating so fast in your chest that you’re sure it’s going to burst through your skin. Quickly, trying to rectify yourself, you plead, “No.” Your voice cracks around the lump forming but you shove past it. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Azriel’s face is tight as he stands. You scramble, collecting your papers into your arms. He towers over you, even standing, and you don’t like the flicker of muscle in his jaw because he’s clenching his teeth so hard.

You don’t like the shadows writhing through the gold of his eyes, molten with anger.

He hands out the papers he’s picked up and an apology is on the tip of your tongue. Reaching out, you’re just about to grasp them, croak out a thank you, when Azriel drops them.

You watch them flutter to the ground again. The elevator dings and the doors squeal open, but you can’t stop staring at the paper on the ground now. You swallow hard, the mortification bubbling into annoyance.

Azriel’s boots twist in your vision and he enters the elevator without another word.

Your eyes prickle but you don’t know why. The breaths you’re releasing through your nose to keep calm are harsh and shaky. Like Azriel’s hands. You need to go to class, and he can fuck off now.

You dip down and snatch the papers from the hall floor, not caring if they get crumpled in your haste. The doors of the elevator begin wheeling shut but you slip through before they can shut completely, trapping you inside with Azriel.

The tiny, metal box that grinds down the elevator shaft is filled to the brim with tension. You can feel the stiffness wafting off of Azriel’s body, though he’s leaning against the wall like he doesn’t have a care in the world, head currently buried in his phone.

Your anger emits in waves, and you feel like you’re drowning in it. What you had said came out the wrong way. You had in no way meant it in the way that you didn’t want his hands touching your work, but the way you’d seen Azriel go preternaturally still, something flash in his eyes, still makes you sick to your stomach. You want to cry, because they’re not tainted in the least. If anything, his hands are the most beautiful hands you’ve ever seen, imperfect yet so, so perfect.

Of course he had retaliated in the way that he did. You would’ve misconstrued the comment as well, but there’s an itch on your side that tells you he didn’t have to react like that, throwing your papers back to the ground. Another misunderstanding between the two of you.

You open your mouth to speak, but there’s a screeching that’s more horrible than it usually is, and the elevator is jerking to a grinding halt.

You stumble a little, and Azriel steadies you before removing his hands just as quickly. His brows are pinched and the lights in the tiny space flicker before going out completely.

“What the fuck?” You question, pitched higher because of your nerves. You’re stuck, the elevator has stopped working and you’re stuck in it with Azriel. “Oh my Gods, we’re trapped!”

Azriel grunts, punching the buttons on the door. An emergency light flickers on, casting the metal box in a low, fluorescent light. Nothing that he’s doing works, and you’re officially beginning to freak out.

You watch Azriel try to pry the doors open, but even with the bulging of his biceps he’s no match for the metal jaws of death.

Throwing a look over his shoulder, he says, “What are you standing around for, princess? Call the fire department or something.”

“Right,” you respond weakly, pulling your attention from his muscular form. The dispatch is nice about it, sending someone your way and all you have to do is stay calm and await assistance. “Thanks, “ you reply to her, hanging up the phone and turning back to Azriel. “So we wait.”

He looks like he wants to ask more questions, but he nods instead, sinking down and making himself comfortable against the wall. Looking up at you expectantly, you sigh, dropping your bag from your shoulder and collapsing to the floor across from him.

His legs are so long they nearly stretch across the entire elevator, and you can’t help but follow the path back to his eyes, glowing as he watches you. You avert your gaze as quickly as possible.

You don’t know how long it will take for the fire department to get here, so you shoot a quick text to Feyre with your predicament, letting her know that you won’t be able to make it to class and to give your coffee away. Then you send a sad emoji because you really, really needed that caffeine.

Across from you, Azriel’s phone buzzes. He reads it, and then his eyes flicker up to yours in a glare.

“Cassian seems to think that this is funny,” he says, and you don’t know why the deep timber of his voice feels like fingers brushing across your skin. “Why did you tell them?”

“I texted Feyre,” you huff defensively. Crossing your arms over your chest, you level him with your own glare. “I don’t control who she tells.”

Azriel rolls his eyes, shutting off his screen.

It’s silent for a long time. There are no sounds coming from outside of the elevator, and you wonder if anyone has even noticed that it’s trapped. The godsdamned thing takes so long to arrive at any floor that you think most patrons take the stairs now, or give in when the elevator of doom never reached their floor.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, mostly to break the silence. Azriel raises a straight brow and you flush. Sheepishly, you continue. “I didn’t mean what I said in the hall like that. I just—I didn’t want you to see my sketches.”

It’s the most you can give him without spilling the truth of exactly what the drawings were.

Azriel’s jaw works, and it looks like he’s contemplating something important, with the way he’s assessing you. Maybe he’s trying to read if you’re telling the truth, if your apology is sincere or not. The intensity of his eyes makes you want to pull your hat down over your own face to hide it from sight.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” He surprises you by asking.

Your lips part in shock. “What?”

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” He asks again, because he doesn't know how he can word the question any differently.

The question throws you. Azriel’s ignored your apology, and instead he’s asking what you’re doing tomorrow night? Has the elevator getting stuck somehow transported you into the Twilight Zone? Is this even really Azriel sitting here with you?

“Um…nothing?” you respond, and he quirks a brow.

“Is that a question or an answer, princess?”

“An answer. I’m doing nothing. Why?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, tipping his head back to rest against the wall, as if he’s contemplating even finishing his question. He looks ever the picture of nonchalance, but what you can’t see is the way he’s curling his fingers to stop their trembling, the rapid beating of his heart.

“I’m having an exhibition tomorrow night. Would you like to join me?”

What? You’re even more dumbfounded now than if that had been the end of the conversation. An exhibition? Tomorrow night? And he’s asking you of all people?

“Who are you and what have you done with my douchebag neighbor?” you ask, shifting in your spot.

A wry smile cracks his mouth and it makes your heart flutter. “Still here, princess.”

Your mouth twists sourly at the nickname. “Let me get this straight. You want me to go to an exhibition with you tomorrow night?”

“Yes,” Azriel nods, agreeing with the echo of his words you’ve just replayed back to him.

“Why don’t you ask your roommates to go with you?”

“They don’t know about it.”

Huh. You don’t know why Azriel wouldn’t invite Cassian or Rhysand to an exhibition he’s having. Well, you could see Cassian wreaking havoc and drinking too much champagne, but Rhys? It seems like the perfect spot for someone like him.

You mull it over, analyzing him. Azriel waits patiently as you study his eyes. The gold is bright under these lights, looking like two golden bars of sun. He’s never been easy to read, and even right now, as you’re trying with all of your might, you can’t find any flicker of anything that tells you this may be a joke.

You tut, crossing your arms over your chest to stop yourself from wringing your fingers in your lap. “Why me?”

“No one better to go with than someone I’m not trying to impress,” Azriel answers seriously. And, he has a point there. You won’t have to hold back from telling him your honest opinion of his work.

You hope that he’s terrible at art, but you have a feeling he’s anything but.

“That doesn’t give me a lot of time to find something to wear.”

His eyes flash and you wish you knew why.

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s not a no.”

Azriel nods, and that’s that. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight, then.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Midnight Muse Taglist: @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r

If you are not being tagged, please make sure that your account can be tagged, you can do this by going to “account settings -> general settings -> mentions -> who can mention (your username)”

#midnight muse #tattoo artist!azriel #artist!azriel #art school au #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel au

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ecoamerica · 22 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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captain-hawks · 6 months

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BEST FRIENDS & BAD IDEAS

♡ — jean kirstein x f!reader

Big aspirations and even bigger dildos—in which a poorly thought out plan makes it incredibly hard to act like your feelings for Jean Kirstein are platonic. Not when they’re anything but. And especially not when you’re half naked in his lap.

18+ ONLY

wc — 2.7k

prompt — cockwarming, creampie

additional content — NSFW, 18+, best friends to lovers speed run, dildo use, implied masturbation, unprotected p in v, praise kink, jean kirstein’s big dick

╰┈➤ kinktober masterlist

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna come,” Jean growls, and his low, rough tone sends you off-kilter, shoving you headfirst over the precarious edge you’ve been foolishly dangling from.

In retrospect, perhaps this wasn’t the best idea.

–

In the long list of questionable decisions you’ve made today, one of the first catalysts guaranteeing inevitable disaster was your lack of foresight to lock your bedroom door before stripping off your shorts and underwear and preparing to lower yourself down onto the ridiculously large dildo that had been delivered in an even more comically large Amazon box this morning.

Your best friend of many years and college roommate, Jean Kirstein, came home just as your makeshift “stand”—you’d hastily attached the suction cup at the base of the dildo to the last clean plate in the cabinet for lack of a better surface—went flying across the rug, ripping the few inches you’d manage to ease down onto right out of your lube-slick channel. You’d hit the floor with a thud, growling in frustration. This, understandably, had the unfortunate effect of attracting the concern of said roommate, who swiftly burst into your room as if you were in the middle of being robbed.

The concern quickly morphed into hysterics as he spotted the giant purple dildo wiggling uselessly a few feet away from where you were lying on your stomach, punching the carpet and yelling at him to get out with as much dignity as you could muster.

“That’s my shirt,” he commented dryly, ignoring your pleas for him to forget everything he had just seen.

“Well it was in my drawer,” you spat back, trying to push the dildo-plate behind you, although the damage was already done.

Jean leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms. “I have so many questions.”

“Our business hours are between 8 and 5, so you’ll have to call back tomorrow. Sorry,” you said with a dismissive wave, subtly kicking the plate and dildo beneath the bed.

The suction cup chose that moment to pop off, and all ten inches came rolling back into view right where a bar of sunlight was stretching across the floor from the window. It would have almost looked artsy.

If it weren’t a fucking dildo.

“I thought you ordered a lamp,” he observed mildly, motioning to the huge cardboard box you’d yet to take out to the recycling bin.

“I’m gonna order you a fleshlight if you don’t shut up,” you grumbled, shoving on a pair of sweatpants.

Jean crinkled his nose, running a hand through his hair. “That thing’s so big, the landlord might start charging us for three tenants if he sees it. Is this a cry for help?”

“I’m trying to prepare myself for seducing Eren at the party Saturday night,” you whisper-yelled, as if anyone else was going to overhear you in your otherwise empty apartment.

“Jaeger?!” he barked out with a disbelieving laugh.

“Everyone says he’s huge. I don’t want it to be a disaster.”

“He’s not that fucking big!” he exclaimed incredulously.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Can you like, go be somewhere tonight? Go get so high with Conny you forget you saw anything? I’m gonna go try in the bathroom instead.”

“You’re kicking me out of my own apartment so you can shove a giant, sparkly purple dildo inside of yourself imagining it’s Jaeger’s dork ass?”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me, Jean.”

He groaned. “The bathroom sounds like an even worse idea. You’ll slip, hit your head on something, blood will go everywhere, and we’ll lose the security deposit.”

“Or my plan will work, I’ll get laid this weekend, and you can stop complaining about how grumpy I’ve been lately,” you reasoned matter-of-factly.

Jean’s hand came to rest on your shoulder as you attempted to push past him to leave the room, aforementioned dildo jiggling menacingly in your hand. “You’re gonna hurt yourself,” he said a little more softly, raising a brow as he cast another look at the offending object.

“I have lube!” you shot back defensively.

Jean glanced up at the ceiling, muttering something about regret under his breath before exhaling, “Let me help you.”

–

In all the years that you’ve known Jean, you’ve done an excellent job at keeping your little crush on him your best kept secret. A secret kept under the most formidable lock and key, buried deep in the depths of your psyche. Tucked away in the very back of a dusty, old cabinet like an expired can of corn.

Objectively, you know Jean’s handsome. You’re well aware.

With his intense, hazel eyes—ones that see everything.

His tall, solid form.

His sinfully curved, pink lips (and his habit of idly sliding his tongue along the bottom one).

His long, dexterous fingers—a dangerous thought.

That fucking mullet he let grow in, which shouldn’t be nearly as sexy as it is when he rolls right out of bed and leaves his room looking like a pillow-rumpled supermodel.

He’s hot, okay?

And sure, you’ve drunkenly kissed at a few parties over the years. Jean’s seen your ass more times than you can count. Definitely your boobs that time he ran into the bathroom to puke while you were showering. Sometimes he has a habit of putting his head on your lap when you’re both on the couch, nudging you till you card your hands through his soft brown hair like a damn dog.

But it’s always been platonic.

Friendly.

Two people who are just very, very comfortable with one another. Comfortable in knowing that neither intends to ruin their stable, solid friendship by carelessly sprinkling feelings into the mix.

Comfortably going so far as to share the sordid details of your sex lives (or lack thereof, lately) while leaning against the kitchen counter eating take out food without batting an eye—though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t try to one up him sometimes when you feel that familiar, unwelcome twinge of jealousy yawning awake inside of you.

But this?

This is asking too much of your restraint to keep your heart walled off and your mouth clamped shut. In your defense, it was already left in pitiful tatters after grinning-and-bearing it throughout the seven-month-long nightmare that was Jean dating fucking Pieck.

—

The next phase of your slew of terrible ideas today began with Jean sitting at the head of your bed, back against the wall, holding the dildo between his legs. Like your own personal fucking dildo holder. Grinning like this wasn’t the single most awkward thing the two of you have ever done (save for the time you both fell asleep with your head in his lap on the couch and woke up to his accidental boner poking you in the ear—neither of you ever mentioned that again).

And it would have been totally fine if it worked out like you imagined in your head the moment he pitched it—you sinking down onto the silicone schlong a few times, stuffing in as much as you could while he held it still. Then letting him carry on with his day while you lay there in bed for a little while with it lodged inside of you, getting yourself used to the stretch. Totally fine.

The reality of the situation was far different, entailing a sticky, slippery mess of lube coating of your hands and a dildo that bent and flopped in every direction as you tried to carefully impale yourself on it while maintaining some sense of dignity.

You had given up fairly quickly, butting your head against Jean’s collarbone and sighing as you asked if he thought Eren would go slow.

He was quiet for a moment.

“…do you trust me?” Jean had asked carefully, like his next suggestion wasn’t going to send you spiraling.

Like “Just sit on my dick, as a friend!” wasn’t the most fucking confusing statement your heart, brain, and vagina had ever heard.

–

Which is how you find yourself in your current predicament, straddling Jean Kirstein’s lap with far more inches of him than you’d realized he’d been keeping tucked away buried to the hilt in the velvety heat between your thighs. Raw, skin-to-fucking-skin, because you’re both in a miserable dry spell with not a single condom to be found between the two of you. And somehow the combination of “known you for half of my life” and “just got tested” and “IUD” sounded better than one of you being tasked with trudging to the pharmacy.

Or, god fucking forbid, going down one floor to ask Conny for one.

Nope.

You have three days to prepare yourself for whatever may come with Eren, so sitting on your best friend’s intimidatingly large dick sans condom the least of your worries. Even if it feels so incredible you’re literally silently choking on the moan threatening to spill past your lips.

Even if you fucking swear you heard his breath hitch when the thick head of his cock began to slip past your entrance, stretching you open wide as he breached your damp channel.

Even if he hardly had to touch himself to get hard for this.

Even if his gaze darkened when you choked out, “Jean, your dick is huge.”

This was a terrible idea.

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna come.”

“Doing what?!” you ask, exasperated.

He rests his hands on your waist, “Doing this,” and squeezes firmly, “on my dick.”

“This isn’t even sex,” you tell him, ignoring the way the close proximity of his hazel eyes sets a flurry of emotion stuttering in your chest. “It’s like, cockwarming at best. You can’t come from cockwarming if you’re not even turned on.”

Jean raises an eyebrow. “Do you even know how tight you are?”

“That’s obviously why I was worried about Ere—”

“It’s like this,” he cuts you off, wrapping a hand around your throat. It’s a loose hold, only meant to prove a snarky point, but a spark of arousal seeps through your body anyway at the mere suggestion. His eyes widen a fraction at the traitorous way your walls clamp down on him even harder in response. “What, you into being choked?”

“I’m into a lot of things, Jeanie,” you tell him haughtily, trying to ignore the heat blistering beneath your skin.

“Like dumb idiots named Eren Jaeger?” he counters, making to grab for the tongue you’re currently sticking out at him.

If you didn’t know better, you’d almost think Jean sounds like he’s jealous.

Which he definitely isn’t.

But you poke the bear anyway.

“What, are you jealous?”

He shifts slightly, and you bite your lip to stifle the moan as your cunt spasms around the pressure from his cock.

If he notices, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, his brow furrows as the corners of his mouth tilt downward slightly. “I just think you deserve better.”

You tug on his earlobe, letting out a weak laugh in an attempt to dispel the sticky, messy feeling of hope trying desperately to cling to the arousal stirring in your gut. “Says the guy who’s currently fucking me.”

Jean scoffs and deadpans, “I thought this wasn’t sex.”

Who are you kidding? Certainly not the tension coiling ruthlessly in your abdomen.

You move a little, trying and failing to relieve the sensation of hot wax dripping down your spine. Instead, you let out a tiny, strangled noise when your throbbing clit presses down against his pelvis, the resulting flood of pleasure setting every nerve ending in your body on fire.

The way he growls out your name through gritted teeth is a warning, but his low tone only serves to stoke the flames licking their way up between your thighs.

You move again, inhaling sharply through your nose.

“Fuck,” he groans quietly, head hitting the wall behind him with a resounding thud.

You’re not sure if he does it on purpose, but his hands find their way back to your hips, calloused fingertips pressing directly against your skin as he slides them up beneath your shirt. His shirt.

The next time you rock against him, his grip on you tightens. And then, you feel it—he tugs you forward.

You lean further into him, without really meaning to, forehead coming to rest against his. “What are we…”

“Just keep going,” he murmurs.

He shifts again, sinking down lower so his back is pressed against the mattress, and you realize the angle gives you more purchase to grind down against him when he pulls at your waist, thumbs lazily skimming your hip bones.

“Jean…” you whisper, not really sure what else you intend to say.

“I want you to feel good,” he says softly, pushing his hips against you, even though he’s snugly bottomed out.

It feels so fucking good—

—laying atop Jean while he stares back up at you, pupils clearly dilated in arousal—

—watching his eyes fall shut as you run a hand along the stubble on his jaw—

—knowing he’s well aware the slickness between your legs is no longer from the lube, your cunt gushing with arousal at the feeling of being stuffed deep with his thick cock.

So you tell yourself you’ll figure the rest out later when you start to shamelessly grind down against him.

“You don’t have to be quiet for me,” Jean teases when you cough to cover up a gasp.

Your answering moan is nearly a whimper, and Jean’s muscles tense beneath you as he continues to guide your hips. He doesn’t try to pull his cock out from where it’s lodged inside of you, doesn’t start thrusting and fucking up into you. He just lets you chase the clitoral stimulation you so desperately need while you’re cockwarming him, groaning along with you at each needy drag.

“Good girl, that’s it.”

This is far more intimate than you bargained for, the gentle slide of his hands up your back scraping your heart out bit-by-bit.

“Holy shit, you don’t know how close I am to coming right now,” he moans in a gravelly, unsteady tone.

All you can do is whimper his name when the rubber band suddenly snaps in response, your body trembling as a wave of white-hot pleasure crashes over you.

And then Jean’s hands are cupping your face, his lips crashing into yours. He kisses you fiercely as you whine and shudder through your orgasm, moaning into your mouth as you card your fingers through his hair. You can feel his cock throb inside of you, pulsing with need as your tight cunt spasms and contracts, relentlessly squeezing his shaft while you soak him with your release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he’s groaning, both of you too drunk on pleasure to move when he suddenly climaxes, cock pumping thick, hot ropes of cum deep in your pussy.

Chests heaving, Jean slowly sits up, forehead falling against your shoulder as he wraps his arms around your waist.

After a few minutes of silence, he finally murmurs, “Don’t fuck Jaeger.”

You tilt his head upward, finger resting just below his chin, skimming the stubble that’s there. Too many emotions are swimming in his hazel eyes, more than you can identify—save for one that you recognize with a jolt of clarity. It’s the way you look at him, when he’s not paying attention.

Longing.

Desire.

Soft, gentle, unfiltered affection.

This time, you’re the one to close the distance between your mouths, brushing your lips against his.

“Who?” you ask, smiling into the kiss.

Jean chuckles, the sound like warm honey, and he deepens the kiss, one hand sliding to the back of your head. Though you remain seated on his softening length, cum begins to seep from your slick heat, pooling on his balls and abdomen.

He goes to move, but you don’t budge. “You wanna get cleaned up?”

You shake your head, the corner of your mouth tilting upward with a smirk. “I’m comfortable.”

Jean bites his lower lip, huffing, “My cum’s dripping all over, and I’m two seconds from getting hard again if you keep squeezing down on me like that.”

Feigning a look of innocence, you flex the muscles in your tight, soaked channel one more time for good measure. He chokes, and you grin.

“Good.”

— likes, comments, &/or reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot #aot smut #attack on titan smut #jean kirstein smut #dee writes

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nanabansama · 2 months

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Card Set Hanakotoba

Recently I was discussing with my lovely friend @istoleyourboat about the meanings behind the flowers in this new card set, and I felt the urge to chronicle them somewhere! I thought you guys might get a kick out of it, too, so this seemed as good a place as any to put it.

So without further ado...

1. Hanako-kun - Queen of the Night

The Queen of the Night (月下美人) is a cactus flower that blooms just once a year for a single night. Because of this, the most heavily associated meanings with the flower are "transient beauty", "fleeting love," and "the urge to see someone just once."

The short-lived life of this flower feels quite fitting for our ghosty boy! I also like how the flower looks both beautiful and unsettling...all around a fantastic choice by AidaIro.

2. Nene Yashiro - Strawberry Blossoms

If you have paid attention to the Hanakotoba in TBHK before, then Nene being associated with strawberries should be nothing new to you. Regardless, the prevalent Hanakotoba for Strawberry Blossoms (イチゴ) are "love," "innocence," and "you make me happy."

The "you make me happy" one makes me want to kick my feet around and squeal a little. Isn't that cute!? I also feel the strawberry is especially fitting for Nene because it seems like something she would grow in her Gardening Club.

3. Kou - Clivia

Otherwise known by the names Bush Lily or Natal Lily, the Hanakotoba for Clivia (君子蘭) are "sincere," "noble" and "good-hearted."

I think this all fits very nicely with our resident good boy Kou, hm?

4. Teru - Bird of Paradise

The Bird of Paradise (ストレリチア) symbolizes "faithfulness," "magnificence," "a bright future" and "superficial love."

Even at a glance this flower really pops out at you, making it a great fit for the ever-impressive Teru. I really, really love this choice!!

5. Sakura - Hellebore

Otherwise known as the Christmas Rose, the Hellebore (クリスマスローズ) represents "reminiscence," "never forget me" and "notice my woes."

The way this beautiful flower seems to cast its head down makes it look almost sad. I suppose that's why it has such pitiful meanings associated with it!

6. Natsuhiko - King Protea

King Protea (キングプロテア), also known as the Sugarbush, symbolizes "strength," "courage," "resilience," and "a king's quality."

If you notice, Natsuhiko always has a little crown-shaped tuft hidden in his hair, so AidaIro associating Natsuhiko with a flower that references royalty pleases me. There's still a lot of mystery surrounding him, but we can at least confirm that Natsuhiko is, indeed, strong and resilient.

7. Akane - Ivy

The plain, non-flowering ivy stands out in stark contrast to the other plants here, but that's because the hanakotoba for it is just that good. Ivy (ヘデラ) means "everlasting love," "I take this feeling to the afterlife," "faithfulness", and "marriage."

Like, if that doesn't scream Akane, I don't know what does.

8. Aoi - Hydrangea

Again, if you've been paying attention to Hanakotoba in the series, this will not be the first time you've seen Aoi paired with hydrangea. Regardless, hydrangea (アジサイ) represents "enduring love," "mystique," and "fickleness."

The hydrangea is also associated with rejection, more specifically the coldness of a person who rejects the romantic advances of another. It's just such a perfect Aoi flower, there's no wonder AidaIro is so attached to it.

💐🌸🌼🌻🌷🌹🥀🌺

Thank you for reading till the end! And I urge you to look up these flowers yourself and see if you can find any meaning to them I may have missed. You might find something brilliant that I completely overlooked!

#tbhk #jshk #toilet bound hanako kun #hanakotoba #aoi akane #akane aoi #hanako kun #nene yashiro #amane yugi #natsuhiko hyuuga #sakura nanamine #teru minamoto #kou minamoto

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redheadspark · 5 months

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Hawuuuu again can I request 8. Why do you always think you have to do everything on your own? And 20. "I'm so so sorry, you don't deserve that," with Druig

I kinda imagine this scene taking place in Tenochtitlan scene just when Druig was leaving

A/N - HAWUU! Thanks for the request, my friend! I love this for Druig!

Together

Summary - Druig thinks he's going to be alone out in the jungle. He was proven wrong.

Warnings - Angst and Fluff mixed in!

“Druig…Druig come on talk to me,”

“I’ve said what I needed to say,”

“No, stop,” You placed your hand on his arm to stop him from walking further away from you, seeing him sigh in both frustration and in anger as you both were hidden under the towering trees of the jungle. The night air was chilly and the adrenaline of the night’s events was still at an all-time high. You were still reeling over what happened: Thena having Mahd Wy Rhy, watching a group of humans being murdered with no way of stopping it, and now the fragment of your own Eternal Family.

Seeing Druig walk away from your family was heartbreaking, but it was more heartbreaking to see through his eyes the pain he had to endure as genocide was happening with him being able to stop it. You could see the betrayal in his eyes, heard it in his voice, and when you saw him walk away from you all, it felt like you were feeling the heartbreak yourself.

You had to go after them, even after hearing Ikaris simply tell you to let him run off. You ignored him, chasing after Druig as he and the soldiers under his control were going deep into the rainforest. All you could think about was Druig and how he was feeling. He left in such a state it was hard to get a reading on him or simply talk to him.

You finally caught up to him at a small clearing, the cluster of soldiers that followed him were simply hanging around with their haunting yellow eyes. You could still read the hurt on his face, wondering what you could do to help him.

“Look, all that happened back there…I’m sorry,” You simply said to him, not knowing what else to say to him as he was still stiff in his stance and the anger was on his face. This was not that Druig that you knew, who would crack a joke to lighten the mood or have a good intuition on what the humans needed. Deep down he had a good heart, though it was rare to see with the others on The Domo. So to see him like this, lone out in the jungle after walking away from all he knew, it scared you and made you wish you could change what happened.

“I’m so so sorry, you don’t deserve that,” You kept saying to him, seeing him watch you and some of that festering anger start to melt away, “I understand how you feel, you love the humans so much. I’ve seen it over the years, and I wish the others loved the humans as much as you did. If you need to leave, then you can. But just know that….that I think you made the right choice—“

He hugged you, making you go quiet in shock.

Druig was never a hugger, he rarely did and would rather use his words for affirmation than physical contact. This was new, awkward a bit but really new. You did feel the hug, almost like his own soul and energy was melting into your own. It was surreal to feel it, to almost feel his heartbeat against your own, a simmering warmth was now in your belly as you hugged him back gently. Perhaps he was still reeling from what happened and was now realizing what he did, or he was simply feeling alone out in the middle of the jungle.

But you knew one thing, he needed this contact.

He pulled away before you could say anything, seeing him wipe his tears with his fingers before you could see it as you let your hands fall at your sides again. Seeing this side of Druig, open and raw with no one around to see or witness this image of Druig,

“You don’t need to do this, Druig,” you reminded him as he was shifting a bit on his feet, “You can go back and try to explain to them what you’re feeling,”

“I can’t,” He replied, his voice hoarse and almost broken as he was clenching and unclenching his fists, “Not after what happened and how they did nothing to stop it. I have to do this on my own and—“

“Why do you always think you have to do everything on your own, Druig?” You asked him suddenly, Druig going quiet and looking at you as you gazed at him, “All the time I have known you, you always think you had to be alone in what you wanted to do. You shouldn’t have to, not when it comes to something like this,”

“What are you talking about?” Druig asked you, having you pause and look back in the direction where the city was. You knew it was up in flames, no longer having any evidence of life. In fact, it was almost symbolic of what was happening in your family at that moment. How the humans were evolving on a path that seems both thrilling and dark at the same time. You could see the cracks already forming amongst the others, whether it was in meetings or simply being around each other. The last thing you ever thought you could experience was those cracks.

“I’m coming with you,” You said to him, seeing his eyes go wide as you sounded so sure of yourself. He searched your eyes, thinking you were joking or wishing him to feel better. But you were not going to be swayed in what you wanted to do, thinking about from the moment he chose to go down the stairs of that temple. He was your friend, and seeing him suffer was hurting you from the inside out. You are willing to go after Druig rather than let him go alone.

He had more heart than anyone you knew.

“You….I can’t let you leave them to come with me,” He said in a stammer as you shrugged.

“Why not? You need the help with these soldiers,” You explained, gesturing to the soldiers that were still standing around in the area, “And the last thing I want for you is to be alone. Plus, they don’t need me,”

Maybe that part hurt when you said it between the pair of you, but you knew deep down that you had no more part with the others back on The Domo, let alone in a fight. You were not strong like Ikaris or Thena, nor were you popular like Sersi or Kingo. You felt out of place for a long time, only needing to put on a brave face for Ajak and protect the humans.

Perhaps this was your sign to finally spread your own wings.

Druig took your hand in his own, you feeling his fingers lace with you and his warmth. He didn’t have to say a word, but you felt it in his touch that he understood and that he was grateful. You smiled, seeing him smile back for the first time that night.

The End.

Hurt and Comfort Prompt Session

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aloneinthehellfire · 3 months

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Chapter One: A New Friend, A New Enemy

The Pariahs That Saved The World (Masterlist)

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: mentions of death, canon descriptions (vecna's curse)

[A/N: Thank you to everyone who seems really excited about this! I am going to try and post for this one weekly, just so I have enough time between uni and work to write new chapters :) This one is a little long, but I needed to set up Reader's character a little more so enjoy!]

The Introduction <-

A New Friend, A New Enemy

“Y/n!”

You slip off your headphones and greet your grandmother with a smile, laughing when she squeezed you tight. It had been almost 8 months since you watched her wave her hand of farewell in the rear view mirror. You had missed her the most, you think. Her warm hugs, her calming perfume, the way she cared for you.

“Come on, I’ve made us some lunch.” She hurries you inside and you laugh again.

“I need to grab the rest of my things, first.” You shake your head in amusement, escaping her clutches and darting back to the taxi, thanking the man for pulling out your luggage.

Just as you hitch your duffel bag over your shoulder, your eyes catch something familiar a few houses down. A worn out and beaten Chevrolet sat abandoned outside of its former resident’s house, a white piece of paper resembling a ticket you had seen when the mechanics would return your property if not claimed. You could just make out the ‘for sale’ sign driven into the mud, your heart wrenching. You had hoped your return would be free from unwanted memories. That obviously didn’t exist in Hawkins.

“So, tell me everything. How’s Stanford?” Gran rushes through with excitement just as your feet are barely inside the door. “Oh, we are so proud of you, honey. Our little star, a Stanford journalist!”

“Gran, you know it’s only my first year, I haven’t even managed to write anything let alone publish it.” You say, following her with your bags. She was leading you up to the guest room. Well, technically, it was your room. You had never really accepted that.

“Oh, did you notice the Hargroves house is for sale?” She whispers out like an unspeakable secret, and you dump your bags on the floor.

“Yeah, I saw.” You try to remain emotionless, rolling your shoulder until the usual ache faded. You were used to it now, the muscles flaring up every now and then.

“Apparently- now, you didn’t hear it from me…” She starts to lean in and you suppress a smile. Your grandmother, the gossiper. “Apparently, the husband just took off.”

“What?” You suddenly gain interest, frowning.

“Oh, yeah. The end of last summer.” She nods knowingly. “Must have been hard for them after their son died. It was a tragedy. And that poor girl… Andrea down the road told me she and the mother were forced to move into the trailer park down by Kerley. Not fit for a child, if you ask me.”

“They obviously couldn’t afford anywhere else.” You say, mostly to yourself, and Gran simply hums in agreement.

“Oh, which reminds me, Melanie, the one with the bird nest hair, she…”

She begins rambling once again about the neighbourhood, obviously pleased to have her granddaughter back so she can share the gossip. You listened intently, nodding when you needed to, offering your own remarks when prompted. You loved your Gran. The thought of her being alone in this house affected you more than you realise.

The real reason you were back wasn’t because you had missed Hawkins. In fact, you were set on your Spring Break exploring Stanford and all it had to offer. But about two months ago, your grandad was omitted to the hospital and a week later, he was no longer with you. Your Gran had shared how his health had been deteriorating for a while now, that they had expected it sooner or later. So, in the end, it wasn’t a surprise. It didn’t make it any less sad.

“Should I be expecting guests for dinner?” She asks and you blink, frowning.

“Guests?”

“Your friends.” She reiterates, already busying her hands by pulling out your already folded clothes from your suitcase and refolding them how she liked it. “I assume everyone will be anxious to see you. It’s been eight months, hasn’t it?”

“Uh…” You purse your lips, shrugging. “I don’t know, I thought it could just be the two of us tonight.”

Gran gently places down a sweater and eyes you suspiciously. “So, you’ll be seeing them tomorrow?”

“Maybe.” You give off the first vague answer in your head, fiddling with the sleeves of your jacket and sitting down on the plush bedding behind you.

“Hm.” She sounds, sliding shut the first drawer before she silently walks around the bed and sits beside you. “You won’t be seeing them, will you?”

It wasn’t a question. You lift your eyes to meet hers and sigh.

“We aren’t as close as we were before, Gran. It’s… complicated.” You decide and she takes your hand in hers.

“You’ve known them since you were just a little sprout.” She ruffles your hair and you cringe, laughing and batting her hand away. “I’m sure whatever happened can’t be so complicated that you can’t… I don’t know, catch up over coffee? Or whatever you kids are doing these days.”

“I wish it was like that.” You say, and you meant it. After a moment, she seems to understand that you didn’t want to continue this particular conversation and she stands, brushing her outfit back into simple perfection.

“Well, sandwiches, anyone?” She offers and you grin, nodding.

The day before you left for Stanford, you were contemplating whether or not it was the right choice. Gran was right, you have known them since you were a kid. But last summer changed all of that. You weren’t sure you could see their faces ever again.

So, rather than try and find them, you decided to spend the next day unpacking. You’d be here for a month so it made sense to have everything neat and tidy. It was just until the funeral, and then you’d be back at college and studying away any memory of Hawkins being your home. Because it wasn’t. Not anymore.

You can hear the distant ring of the phone echoing up the stairs, continuing to pull out your books. You might as well be caught up with your classes if you were going to spend all your time inside.

“Y/n!” Gran calls up and you push away from the desk to lean over the banister.

“Yeah?” You ask as she stares up at you, the phone in her left hand while the right covered the receiver.

“It’s your friend.” She says with a small smile and your face drops into a frown. “She says it’s urgent.”

“Uh…” You shake your head. Who would be calling you? “Yeah, I’ll be down in a sec.”

Gran nods and relays the information, setting the phone on the side table and disappearing back into the kitchen.

Your footsteps were wary as you descend the staircase, eyes set on the white object beside one of your grandmother’s vases. There was a hauntingly familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through your body, one you hadn’t felt in a long time. Once you reach the table, you shift your focus to the photo frame. It was small, a collected memory from a few years ago now. You were stood there smiling, the camera capturing you in pleasant surprise when a brunette girl behind you had jumped onto your back. It made your eyes sting, and you knew you had to make the decision to answer the call.

Hesitantly picking up the phone, you hold it to your ear and close your eyes.

“Hello?”

“Y/n?” Nancy’s voice blares through and your eyes snap back open.

Barrels of apologies and excuses spewed from her lips and you stand in silent shock, clutching the receiver a little too tight. She could only be calling for one reason. You had known it before you had even answered the phone.

Something was happening in Hawkins. Again. And if Nancy was calling for help, then she truly needed it.

And you’d never let her down.

“Have we met before?” You ask, studying the girl stood next to you.

The walls of the archive were surprisingly bright, shining an iridescent hue on her dark blonde locks. Her blue eyes were blinking back at you, pink lips stuck in a soft pucker of indecision. She was pretty. Really pretty. And at the same time she looked effortlessly cool, a jacket you wished you own. Something about her felt familiar to you, drawing you in.

Then a pang of guilt hits you and you force your concentration on waiting for her answer.

Robin felt weak. Who were you? It was taking everything in her to open her mouth and speak which, as literally everyone knew, was incredibly unlike her.

“I don’t think so.” Robin finally breathes out. There was softness in the way you spoke to her too, calming her nerves. Those strange waves of anxiety were being taken with the tide like you were her lighthouse in the stormy sea of her mind.

“Oh.” You scrunch your face with a smile. “Well, it’s nice to meet you.”

She was surprised to see you put out your hand but she willingly shakes it anyway, smiling back.

When you pull away, Robin seems a little more comfortable, coming closer to peer down at your old project folder, reading along with Nancy. You tried not to stare, busying your eyes with your own work in Nancy’s hands.

“Anything… juicy over there?” Robin asks Nancy and the girl throws her a tight lipped smile.

“Nothing new yet.” She responds and you notice the strain in her voice. She adopted it any time she was struggling to enjoy somebody’s presence.

“Victor seemed like a normal guy. Dead family, missing eyes, took a plea deal, sent to Pennhurst. Blah, blah, blah, blah.” Robin utters as she skims over the page below, slowly raising her head to look at Nancy. “What are we looking for exactly?”

Nancy doesn’t respond and continues flicking through the pages, making Robin’s eyes widen.

“Nance?” She tries again and you frown.

“She’s focused.” You offer, smiling. “She zones in so much that she zones out sometimes.”

“Right.” She nods slowly, still staring at her. “Um, so are we, uh… looking for any mentions of dark wizards or alternate dimensions? Things in that vein?”

You remember something and open your mouth to speak before Nancy interrupts with a huff.

“I don’t know, okay?” She sighs loudly, leaning against the desk and meeting Robin’s eyes. “It’s starting to seem like this was just a big waste of time. And you’re obviously bored so why don’t you just call Steve? I’m sure he’ll come pick you up. And I mean, I’m not really in danger here, so…”

With that, she walks away from the table and grabs another folder you had brought, furiously flipping through as she travels down a different staircase to the filing room. Your eyebrows raise.

“Woah.” You simply say, noticing Robin’s frown. “She’s, uh… hell, I don’t even know. Nance gets ultra focused when she thinks she has a lead on something and, well… she doesn’t like to get it wrong. Which is understandable.”

“So, she acts like this with other people?” She asks and you tighten your lips.

“Um…”

“Okay, that’s a no.” Robin groans, dragging her hands down her face. “I’m trying, I really am, I just struggle with whatever the hell bonding is meant to be, I mean me and Steve literally only bonded because we were both getting tortured and thought we would die. Which, no, not an ideal way to start a friendship but you know what, it’s better than whatever the hell this is.”

“You were at Starcourt?” You frown and she looks back at you, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up-”

“No, no, it’s okay.” She waves her hands, “I, um… no one really mentions it anymore. Unless it’s the news and they’re pretending like it was a-”

“Fire, yeah. I heard.” You say, staring at the stairs Nancy descended. “How did all of this start?”

“Excuse me?” She blinks and you turn your attention back to her.

“This… Vecna, was it? How did it start?” You repeat, shaking your head. “Nancy could only tell me so much over the phone so I’m a little behind.”

“A girl was found dead in the trailer park.” Robin relays, gulping. “Chrissy Cunningham? She’s a cheerleader. Was. They found her with all her bones snapped and her eyes were… gone. They think Eddie Munson did it-”

“Eddie?” You gasp, and Robin looks surprised. “No, Eddie wouldn’t do that-”

“We know. Trust me.” She says hurriedly, “He told us everything that happened. Apparently she was floating in the air and her bones were snapping- it’s a really gruesome story but the same thing, like, just happened to Fred and we need to figure out who this Vecna is before someone else gets hurt.”

“Okay.” You breathe and she raises her brow.

“Okay? I just unloaded a dump of hell onto you, and it’s okay?” She sounded intrigued and you shrug.

“The last few years have been… weird. To the point where weird sounds normal now.” You say, a soft frown on your features.

Robin wasn’t entirely sure where you fit into all of this. Sure, you had information they needed, you’ve been a part of their group for some time, you made sense. What she was struggling to understand is why you were here now. And why you weren’t here before.

“How’d you meet everyone?” You ask before she can. Any thought she had of questioning your arrival was cleverly misplaced. For the moment.

“I worked with Steve at Scoops Ahoy last year.” Robin nods and you frown.

“But I never…” You start before your eyes widen, mouth curling into a smile. “Oh my god, yes! I do remember you!”

“You do?” Robin tries to comb back through her memories.

“Yeah, Max dragged me there maybe… a week after it opened? She was telling me about Steve’s little sailor outfit and of course, I didn’t believe her, so she had to show me proof.” You giggle to yourself, meeting her eyes. “I remember you were taking a break outside, Max introduced us. Well, kind of. She never got to my name before Steve arrived with that stupid frown on his face.”

“I don’t remember that.” She frowns and you bite your lip, shoving your hands into your jacket pockets. “Sorry, I don’t mean that in like, a mean girl way. I mean, my memory is apparently broken because I’m very sure I would have remembered you. Not in a weird way, either, like- I just think you make an impression on people- a good one. Not a bad one.”

“It’s okay.” You laugh and she shakes her head enough to make her bangs sway in her embarrassment. “I looked a lot different then. And I was, like, super shy. I was probably hiding my face or something.”

“Hold on.” She blinks with a smirk. “You’re the girl? Like, the girl?”

“Am I meant to know what that means?” You squint your eyes.

Robin simply laughs to herself until she clocks your confusion. “No, I… Max did bring someone in for, like, one of our first ever shifts together. I remember because when they left, Steve looked like some kicked puppy and I couldn’t work with him and that stupid frown so I made him tell me what was bothering him. Apparently, the girl that left was the girl he couldn’t get in high school and it ‘haunts’ him. It’s so stupid.”

You go quiet and her eyes widen.

“Oh god.” She covers her mouth. “Did I talk too much again? God, I’m sorry- I literally can’t control my mouth.”

“No, you’re right.” You say, shaking your head. “Steve… he and I don’t really get along. Opposite ends of the high school popularity pool until I won this debate contest and suddenly everyone wanted to be my friend. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal, but suddenly I was on Steve’s radar and, well, you know the rest.”

“You can do better.” She simply nods and you raise your eyebrow at her remark. “What? Oh, he’s amazing now. Like, a genuine gentleman kind of guy, but King Steve? Whew, that boy needed a leash or something.”

“You guys are pretty close, huh?” You ask and she smiles.

“Yeah, he’s my best…” She begins before her face drops. Oh.

“What?” You ask when she starts walking away.

“I know why!” She exclaims before turning her heel and marching down those steps to Nancy, finding her sorting through the filing cabinet.

If Nancy heard her, she didn’t acknowledge it. Robin felt so stupid. It had been a while since she’d been a part of ‘girl world’ or, more specifically, ‘girl-code world’. The thought of there being any tension hadn’t even crossed her mind before.

“You do know that Steve and I are, like, totally not a thing, right?” Robin asks breathlessly, leaning against the wooden banister.

“What?” Nancy frowns, shaking her head and turning to look over her shoulder.

“So I figure that you and Jonathan are still going strong ‘cause you guys are going to college together, and you’re like one of those unstoppable power couples, but I… I just… I wanted to make sure that you knew that Steve and I are just friends. Like, platonic with a capital P.”

Nancy’s response in underwhelming at best, a tight lipped smile and Robin almost groans in frustration. She can hear your sneakers steadily descend the stairs and she turns back.

“Just in case that’s adding any tension between us.” She expresses to Nancy and you frown at the interaction.

“It wasn’t.” Nancy replies and Robin sighs.

“Uh…” You start to say, both pairs of eyes immediately looking at you. “Sorry to, um, interrupt. I have stuff I need to do…”

“Right.” Nancy blinks apologetically, looking back at the folder in her hands. “I’m so sorry, I really thought I was going to find something. I… I didn’t want to drag you into this, really, it’s just-”

“Hawkins.” You finish her sentence, stepping off the final stair and leaning against the banister. “Yeah, I know.”

“Holy shit.” Robin gasps, suddenly grabbing the folder out of Nancy’s hands despite her silent protest. “Is that from The Weekly Watcher?”

She points to a specific part of one of the tabs and you move to peer over her shoulder, nodding.

“Don’t they write about, like, Bigfoot and UFOs?” Nancy scoffs, already dismissing the idea.

“First of all, UFOs are absolutely real. Bigfoot I’m still on the fence about.” She comments and you hum agreement. “But may I remind you we are looking for information on dark wizards? If someone’s gonna write about that, it’s gonna be these weirdos.”

“She’s not wrong.” You add and Nancy’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Yeah, there’s a whole article about Victor Creel. He claimed that a vengeful demon killed his family. Obviously I only added a reference for context, I never actually believed it. You know, before…”

You vaguely gesture the space around you and Robin flips the page over.

“According to several insiders, Victor believed his house was haunted by an ancient demon.” Robin read aloud, and you could feel the goosebumps prickle along your skin. “Victor allegedly hired a priest to exorcise the demon from his home- pretty novel for the 50s, Exorcistwasn’t even out yet.”

“Keep- keep going.” Nancy insisted and Robin frowns.

“That’s all that’s here.” She says and Nancy looks at you.

“He claimed that the exorcism failed.” You recall, staring at the cut out photo of the Creel Family. “He said it angered the demon. It murdered his family, removing their eyes.”

“Did it say why he wasn’t killed?” Robin questions.

“Victor believed he was spared as a punishment.” You say with a twist in your stomach. His whole family died. He was all alone.

“Yeah, that’s pretty convenient for Victor.” Nancy mumbles and Robin frowns.

“Yeah, or super inconvenient.” She challenges, her eyes looking at yours for support. You simply nod, feeling sick. “Victor was declared legally insane by the court, right? Well, what if this is why? I mean, it sounds pretty insane, it just didn’t go public because-”

“The plea bargain.” Nancy jumps in, and you can see her trying to slot all the pieces together, “The records were sealed.”

“What if a demon did invade Victor’s home.” Robin glances between you both. “It’s just, this demon wasn’t any old demon.”

“It was Vecna.” Nancy finishes, and you immediately start shaking your head.

“Okay, you guys got everything you need?” You quickly rush out, sorting the folder around so it would shut. “Actually, you know what, you guys can just keep that, I need to-”

“You’re leaving?” Nancy frowns, following you as you jog back up the stairs and to where you had dumped your bag before. Robin hurriedly grabbed your folder and followed suit.

“Yeah, I told you, I have stuff to do.” You mutter an excuse, slipping your bag over your shoulder.

“But what about-”

“No, Nance.” You suddenly say, much stricter than you intended it to be. You pause your steps, taking a deep breath to look her in the eye. “I hate that there’s something new terrorising Hawkins. And I’m sorry you have to deal with it. I am. But that’s your choice. I can’t do this again.”

Robin stood there, clutching your folder to her chest. Nancy was struggling with her words, and you didn’t look like you were going to stick around long enough to hear them.

“We need you.” Robin blurts and you look at her, frowning. “I’m sorry, but we do. You know more about this case than any of us, you dedicated, what, a whole month? Maybe more? To learn about the Creel House, about the murders. You have information we can’t possible find because Hawkins doesn’t like to keep around its records of murder, and- and Nancy said you were great at this detective stuff which basically means you know what we need to do next.”

Rather than respond, you start weighing your options. The best decision you ever made was leaving all of this behind. Stanford had everything you wanted; hope. Anytime you decided to help them, it was always your life you were risking. That they were risking. Why would this time be any different?

“I really hope you win this.” You finally say, offering half a smile before you push through those doors and don’t look back, disappearing into the darkening shadows outside.

“Damn it.” Nancy curses, resting a hand on her hip and the other on a table.

“What happened between you guys?” Robin asks into the silence and Nancy looks up.

“What do you-”

“I don’t want a vague answer.” She says, still clutching onto the folder pressed against her chest. “She looked terrified. Which, yeah, it makes a lot of sense under normal circumstances. But this was more like PTSD kind of terrified. What the hell happened last year that no one’s telling me?”

The silence left Robin in the dark, Nancy’s features pouring over in restrained emotion.

By the time you had dug out your keys with trembling hands, you could feel the prickling of tears threaten to spill at any moment. They had no right to ask that of you. Especially not Nancy. She was there last year, she knows why you left. And yet again, none of them were listening to you.

You sat in your grandad’s old armchair for about an hour, a book resting on your lap but it remained untouched. It would just be another distraction, another reason to pretend like nothing was wrong. To stop yourself from remembering, feeling.

It’s why you went to Stanford, really. You didn’t care about journalism like you used to. But the work load was almost unbearable, which meant that every waking moment would need to be dedicated to studying. If you didn’t occupy your mind, you’d have to relive last year.

“Hi, sweetie.” Gran says as she enters the room, a shopping bag in one hand. You hadn’t even heard her key in the door. “Did you see your friends?”

“Yeah.” You clear your throat, setting aside the book and leaning forward.

“What did you kids get up to?” She asks before quickly disappearing into the kitchen to set down her groceries. When she returns, you have your head in your hands.

You can feel her fingers gently pry away your hands as she takes the chair opposite you, smiling like she already knew what was going through your head. Looking at her, the way her eyes were glazing over, you felt so selfish. You had left to escape everything that happened last year, and you had left her for months to deal with it all alone. Here you were, wallowing in self pity because your friends hadn’t been there for you when you needed them, and it turns out you’re doing the exact same thing to her.

“I’m so sorry.” You say, wiping away the tear that trickles down your cheek. “I should have stayed with you and Grandad.”

“What?” She frowns lightly, shaking her head. “Darling, no. All we ever wanted for you was to get out into the world, find something that made you happy.”

“But I’m not happy.” You express, catching a sob that threatened to escape. “I just wanted to get away, get out of Hawkins. I wasn’t even thinking about it, I- I just couldn’t…”

Her hand suddenly finds your own, squeezing it tight.

“It’s okay.” She says and you lift your head up. She continued smiling, but it was much sadder now. “No one can expect you to move on from what happened last year as quick as that.”

“And what if I never move on?”

“It’s not about moving on.” She smiles. “It’s about acceptance. It’s about holding onto the memory because you cherish it, not because you are haunted by it.”

The clock in the distance could be heard counting the seconds as you sit there in silence. She was right, as per usual. You weren’t letting yourself feel. You should be embracing the fact that you still had her. Even with all Hawkins has been through, you still had her.

Your heart pangs with panic. She was still here.

“I should be getting to bed-”

“Come with me.” You offer suddenly and she raises her eyebrows.

“To Stanford?” She says as if it were absurd.

“I’m serious. Let’s move away, start fresh. We’ll find somewhere new, Gran. Please.” You beg and she offers a smile, capturing your hand by placing another on top.

“Hawkins is my home. It always has been. I was born here, I met the love of my life here. I watched my little one grow up and, when he had little ones of their own, I watched them grow up too. This is where my family is. I… I can’t leave.”

“No, don’t worry, I’ll get it.” You say, smiling. “You should get some rest.”

Your heart wrenches. If only she knew what you did. About what really happens in Hawkins, what lurks there in the dark. She can’t stay here, not when you know it isn’t safe. Not when she’s all you have left.

Three knocks echo out from the front door, and Gran shifts in her seat, quickly glancing at the clock. Who would be here at this hour?

“Thank you.” She stands with you, squeezing your hand as she dropped it. “Try and get some rest.”

You wait until she’s heading up the stairs and out of earshot before you rush to the door, gently brushing aside the small curtain and frowning at the silhouette. It wasn’t who you had expected.

The door is open barely four inches before she starts talking at you, ring-donned hands clasped together.

“Look, I know we’ve literally just met. And I probably- no, I definitely don’t have the right to ask you to stay with us, but we’re basically alone right now. Half of us are in California, we don’t have any connections in the sheriff’s department anymore. Everyone who would know what to do is gone, and you’re kinda the only person left who can help us. I get so much happened to you last year and I- I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but if there’s even a tiny part of you that wants to do this, then please listen to it. Please.”

Robin didn’t know what she was expecting when she left the school. Her feet had taken her further than her mind was planning, but she knew she had to find you. Max was in trouble, and they were all way in over their heads to not have help. Nancy refused to bother you any further, and she understood, she really did, but this wasn’t a normal circumstance. This was bigger than all of them, bigger than everyone.

“Robin?” You say, brows scrunched together in surprise. She thins her lips.

“Sorry to just blurt that all out, but I didn’t know if you were just gonna slam the door on me- or maybe I’d forget what I wanted to say.” She explained, feeling the embarrassment creeping up her cheeks. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing to you. “Max is in trouble.”

“What?” You sobered at the thought, leaning closer to her. Then, in a moment of split decision, you glance back up the stairs before stepping outside and closing the door behind you. “What happened?”

“We found a connection between all the victims.” Robin tries to explain, and you noticed how expressive she was with her hands. “Basically, Max has the same symptoms as the rest of them, and she’s, like, 100% sure she’s next of Vecna’s kill list.”

“Is she okay?” You ask, and Robin can see the desperation behind your eyes.

“Yeah. Shaken up, but she’s fine. For now.” She clears her throat, a pleading look as she stares at you. “We need to find Vecna as fast as we possibly can before he can get to her. I… I know about what happened last year. About your dad.”

You seem taken aback by her knowledge, eyes darting down to your shoes.

“I don’t blame you for wanting to leave all of this behind.” She sympathises, and she let herself be much calmer than she felt. “But I’m asking you if you’ll help us.”

Your heart was aching as you wipe your sweaty palms against your jeans, barely even feeling the cold rush of wind hitting your bare arms. You had meant what you said earlier; you couldn’t do this again. It took everything in you to move out of Hawkins, go to college and live a life the person you loved the most couldn’t do anymore.

But you were currently stood in front of a door. And behind that door, was the last person you had left, and she wasn’t planning on leaving her home any time soon. As it turned out, fleeing wasn’t an option for everyone else.

“I’ll do it.”

Robin blinks, studying you for any ounce of uncertainty. You looked deadly serious.

Maybe, just maybe, with you by their side, they were taking down Vecna after all.

taglist: @kryztalglear @officerrrfriendly @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean @spacedoutdaydreamer @em16cor @endurexxsurvive

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drarrily-we-row-along · 4 months

Text

Titan Arum

It wasn’t Harry’s fault.

Their relationship had always been about competition, from the very start, from 11 years old when they’d despised each other. And some habits died harder than others. It hadn’t been intentional that their dating was a bit like a competition, it had sort of just happened.

Planning alternating date night activities, giving the most heartfelt gifts, being liked by the other’s friend group, even who could give who the most orgasms… It all just sort of happened.

And the same was true with the flowers. Harry had sent Draco a bouquet their first valentines together (3 weeks after they started dating) and periodically they’d send each other random bouquets since. That those arrangements happened to get bigger and more elaborate each time was no one’s fault. The competitive spirit kept their relationship interesting and very focused on the other’s happiness.

It wasn’t Harry’s fault.

Maybe their competitive natures were to blame.

Maybe it was Draco’s fault for sending that ostentatiously loud bouquet to Harry’s classroom when he had the fourth years.

Or maybe it was Hermione’s fault for informing Harry that the largest flower on earth was the Amorphophallus titanum when he’d been idly wondering aloud about where he could find a really big, impressive flower.

Maybe it was that he trusted Hermione to tell him any extra information he might need to know. He hadn’t even bothered to look at the flower before he placed the order for delivery.

Or maybe it was the fact that the flower’s name had both the words amor and phallus in it. And frankly, Harry found the thought of sending Draco a flower that looked like a dick amusing.

But no matter the case; it wasn’t Harry’s fault.

At least, that was the line he’d be using when he arrived in Draco’s office after a furious patronus.

“What. The. Actual. Fuck?” Draco ground out.

Harry couldn’t even see him around the giant plant in the room; standing at least 8 feet tall and several feet wide, it took up almost all of the space in the room.

But as distracting as the sight of such a flower was, that wasn’t the thing that captured Harry’s attention. He’d never in his life smelled something as unpleasant as this flower. It smelled like dead, rotting animals, and Harry had to bury his nose in his sweater. “Err…” he started.

“Don’t you bloody well ‘err’ me, Harry James Potter,” Draco spit. “Why are you sending me a fucking corpse flower? What is wrong with you?”

“It’s the biggest flower in the world,” he said weakly. “And it’s called amorphallus, which seemed funny. Unlike the name corpse flower.”

“Amorphophallus,” Draco corrected. “And that still doesn’t explain why you would send something like this to someone you love.”

And there was just a little twinge of hurt to his voice, Harry could never stand that. He braved his way deeper into the office giving the plant as wide a berth as the small office allowed. “I’m sorry, darling. It wasn’t my fault.”

Draco raised an accusatory eyebrow at him.

“Hermione told me about it!” The eyebrow arched further. “And it was easy to order once I knew who to talk to.” He grinned at Draco, “and the name was pretty funny, you have to admit.”

“I have to do no such thing,” he replied with a haughty sniff.

“How would you feel if I said that you won the flower contest?”

Draco perked up at that “admitting defeat?”

“This is the most ghastly plant I’ve ever seen.”

“Venomous tentacula,” Draco offered with a grin.

“Still better than that,” he said, nodded to the flower.

“It’s a good thing I know you love me,” he said, leaning over to kiss Harry’s cheek.

He nudged him with his nose, “I do love you.”

“I know,” he repeated with a grin. Then, “dinner?”

Harry nodded, “what about the plant?”

Draco shooed him out, “I’ll deal with it later.”

————

Six weeks later, as luck would have it, when the flower opened in the green house, Harry happened to be there collecting some harvested mandrakes.

Draco also was there, and as Harry watched, he harvested several pollen pods from the titan arum.

He cleared his throat and Draco whipped around, “does this mean I won after all?”

——————————

Thanks for the prompt, nonnie! Sorry it’s been an eternity in my inbox.

Leave a comment/thoughts

Reblog + like if you enjoyed it!

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine #stranger things x you #stranger things x fem!reader #stranger things x female reader #stranger things au #joseph quinn x reader

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faithinus · 1 year

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Eyes Open

Joe Quinn x Fem!Reader 🤍

Summary: Starting out with a classic friends to lovers blurb. The reader and Joe are close friends. She wakes up in his bed one morning and overthinks everything. Enjoy :)

Disclaimer: nothing too serious in this piece, just good old friends to lovers, but there are suggestions of past smutty activities, and of course this is real person fiction. Apologies in advance. This is my first time writing in years!

Word count: 2.1K

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There was a subtle hum, like someone was yawning but with their lips pressed together. It was almost inaudible but you caught it. The bed shifted from weight lifting off of the mattress. You became suddenly aware that the pillow smelled different than the one you had at home. That’s when it hit you that you were in his home, sleeping in his bed.

Eyes still shut, you tried to orient yourself in the room. If you opened them, you risked being face to face with Joe. Sure, you wondered what he looked like still sleepy. Oh god, Joe probably had cute puffy eyes and messy curls and a woolly morning voice. As much as you wanted to find out, you weren’t ready to confront last night and all of its potential consequences just yet. So, you kept your eyes shut and tried not to move. Feet padded across the wood floor and the bathroom door creaked open. How long could you lie here until you had to confront the elephant in the room?

Then, the door clicked shut. Your eyes shot open.

Last night’s silky black dress had been haphazardly tossed on the floor next to the bed. One of the straps was clearly broken, collateral damage from your fit of passion. You couldn’t remember whose fault it was, and quite frankly didn’t care. The two of you stripped each other so quickly. It was almost ravenous. So many months of being friends built up a palpable tension that burst as soon as you stepped through his front door.

Thinking about last night brought back the feeling of your spine against the wall, his breath on your neck, his hands snaking up your torso -

The door clicked open, snapping you out of your thoughts. You forced your eyes shut immediately. It was your only defense.

“Sorry. Did I wake you?”

Not quick enough. He must’ve seen.

“No,” you whispered “s’okay”. With eyes open again, you got the chance to take him all in. Joe stood across the room, curls disheveled, last night’s slacks sitting loosely on his hips.

“Want a coffee?” he chimed, pushing a few strands off his forehead. For the record, Joe’s morning hair was just as noteworthy as you thought it would be, but his nonchalant attitude was confusing. He just slept with one of his best friends. How was he acting so calm about this?

“Yeah, sounds nice. Thank you.” You tried to match his cheery tone but the words came out more groggy than intended.

“You tired? Didn’t sleep well?” Joe teased and threw open a curtain. The sunlight hit your eyes. You squinted and dramatically threw your head in the other direction in protest. His phone screen lit up with a notification. Time: 8:20 am. It’s not that you didn’t sleep well. In fact, you were out like a light once your head hit the pillow. It’s that you didn’t sleep very long. Joe had your undivided attention until the early hours of the morning and he knew that. He was taking this opportunity to poke fun. You were trying to decide if him finding this situation amusing was a good sign for the status of your relationship or not.

“No s’fine,” you said rolling over on your side. Your bra sat cockeyed on your chest, partly exposing a nipple. The air caught in your throat and you tugged up at the fabric. Joe looked away and chuckled under his breath. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act like I haven’t seen.” He smirked and inspected the street outside the bedroom window. The satisfied look on his face made you roll your eyes. If it was anyone else, he would’ve sounded too proud, too fuckboyish. However, his confident attitude secretly made you want to pull him back to bed for round two.

And you understood. It was comical that you were rushing to cover yourself up when hours ago you had been shuddering under his touch. He had seen the full buffet, but now you were desperate to hide... at least until you could figure out where Joe’s head was at. He opened a dresser drawer and took out the first t-shirt he saw. It was black with a design on the front from an old band you barely recognized. Joe tossed it at the bed and it landed in your lap.

“Lemme go get that coffee, yeah?” He slipped out of the bedroom door. You still couldn’t wrap your mind around how casual he was acting. It was as if he was going through his normal routine. He acted totally content with sleeping with his best friend and carrying on with business as usual. Joe offered you a coffee, tossed you a shirt, and waltzed off like he had done it 1,000 times before. I mean of course he had done this before, but did he regularly bring friends home? Oh god, did you just accidentally fall into a friends with benefits situation? Wait. Did that mean he just gave you his hookup shirt?

You swung your legs over the side of the bed and slipped Joe’s t-shirt over your head. You brought the collar up to your nose and inhaled, half expecting it to smell like another girl.

It didn’t, of course. But it didn’t particularly smell like Joe either. Tie game.

You looked over your shoulder at his bedside table. Three of his rings sat in a little pile. You had to hold yourself back from focusing on them. If you let your eyes linger too long, you could almost start to feel the metal pressing into your hip, hands desperately pulling you in. You shook your head, trying to snap out of it. If this was all simply a one-night stand to Joe, you were going to curse yourself later. A one-night stand meant you need to go back to acting like friends. Acting like friends meant you would spend god-knows-how-long trying forget about the damn rings and all the places they touched you.

How had it even happened? The scenes of last night came back to you in bits and pieces, but not because of the alcohol. You were just in shock.

The two of you were out at a birthday party. Many of your mutual friends were in attendance. You had greeted Joe when he arrived and he didn’t leave your side during the entire event. From the outside, anyone could have mistaken it for normal, friendly behavior. Everyone knew you two were close, but you noticed the difference. Joe didn’t make his usual rounds. He spoke to you until someone else went out of their way to come up to him. His presence felt more intense. Each time you two would lock eyes, it was clear neither person wanted to look away. Everyone else had faded into the background.

Somewhere along the way Joe had gotten more touchy than normal. He had complimented your dress and played with your shoulder strap in a way you didn’t expect. When you walked through the crowd, his hand found your lower back. One of your favorite songs came on and he laughed at the way you sang. You teased him for the way he moved his hips when he danced.

As you swayed back and forth, your fingers toyed with the buttons on his shirt. Joe encouraged you to undo a few, making a comment about how hot it was getting in the crowded room. You knew that caring about the temperature was a lie by the way he got closer. Joe let your breath hit his face. His forehead was nearly touching yours and his palms slid down your back. At that point, you were sober enough to make your own decisions but intoxicated enough to act on your true feelings. One thing led to another and he was leading you out the door to call a cab.

He had one hand on your thigh the whole way home.

Joe’s head popped through the door frame, two coffees in hand. “I didn’t know if you wanted cream, so I made one with and one without.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. Joe held out the mugs in front of you and raised his eyebrows, begging you to pick. “Thank you,” you whispered, taking your preference. With your other hand, you picked your dress off the floor and examined a tear along the seam. “I’m no good at sewing. It’s a shame. I really liked this dress”.

Joe lowered himself onto the bed next to you. He suppressed a smile at the work you two made of your outfit. “I know a good tailor up the street. I can have it done for you.”

“Is this what you do for all the girls? Rip their clothes and take them to your tailor friend?” You said it like a joke but were secretly dying for answers. It would be totally unreasonable to assume Joe never brought a girl home. That wasn’t the point.

As difficult as it was to admit to yourself, you were just sick of it. Sick of stealing glances across rooms and brushing it off. Sick of taking an interest in every one of Joe’s hobbies, opinions, or whereabouts and chalking it up to “being a good friend.” Sick of searching for a new movie to watch and your first thought being: “I wonder if Joe likes this one?”. Sick of rethinking every past interaction from a romantic standpoint. Sick of acting like other people are a legitimate option.

For a moment, a flash of genuine hesitation was in Joe’s eyes. He looked away from you and sipped his coffee.

“The girls? And who might they be?” he mumbled into his cup.

There was an instant pang of regret in your chest. Your question was definitely not a pleasant conversation starter.

“I don’t know Joe…you are a hot commodity these days,” you bumped your elbow into his, trying to play it off as a joke once again.

He furrowed his eyebrows and stood up. The air in the room was noticeably heavier. Ah great, you made it awkward already. Joe took a few steps and then paused, back still facing you. “Did you think- is this… a one time thing?”

You didn’t respond. Joe may have been looking for your confirmation, but you couldn’t give that to him. Your stomach was doing flips, urging you to say no. The way you looked at each other over drinks, in the cab, in his bed, even now, none of it was consistent with a one-time deal.

“You didn’t have to come back with me,” Joe spoke up. His hands went to his hips and eyes dropped to the floor. “If you are regretting this-” he trailed off nervously.

And then you laughed, which only confused him more. The last thing he did was pressure you or give you anything to regret. In fact, he was impressively attentive. The way he whispered “y’sure?” breathless between kisses, the way he glanced up at you looking for clues of your pleasure, the way he squeezed your hand and mumbled “I know” into your neck. It was all so attentive.

“No Joe,” you shook your head as you laughed. “That’s nonsense. You were lovely, really.”

He spun around to face you. “Then what are you on about?... ‘All the girls?’” he mocked your tone.

Now it was your turn to go shy under his gaze. You looked down to fidget with the hem of your - well his - shirt. You hoped you wouldn’t grow to regret this moment, but it was too late to turn back now.

“Am I crazy or was last night the result of a lot of built-up feelings? I don’t want to lose this friendship… but I don’t know if I can pretend like this never happened either. I need clarity here.”

He stood in front of you silently for the next several seconds, lost in thought. Way to leave someone with a cliffhanger, Joseph.

In an effort to cover your tracks you stood up and began rambling “I’m just worried about our friends, Joe. They probably saw us together last night. I don’t want things to be awkward between everyone. They are going to find out and-”

Joe stopped you in your tracks when his hand reached out and gently made contact with your cheek. His fingers tilted you up to face him. If Joe was anyone else, his steady gaze would be intimidating. But it wasn’t like that. It was admiration not a challenge. Your bodies drifted closer together. You lingered with your lips open, dangerously close to his, but not yet kissing. The corners of his mouth turned up. “Let them.”

“What?”

“Please. By all means, let them find out.”

One more glance at his eyes and Joe was pulling you in by the collar of his shirt. The way his lips pressed into yours was dizzying. One of your hands slid up to his shoulder and drew his body closer. Sugar and dark roast were still on his tongue. It was going to be a while before you wanted to open your eyes again.

#joe quinn #joseph quinn #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfic #joe quinn fanfic #fluff #faithinus writing

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ballcrusher74 · 3 months

Note

hello. are you. perhaps 👉👈 willing to talk about the inspector/faux. ive only seen cool arts and no context so im rather curious.

OK!!! I actually love rambling about my ocs so small questions like this make me day. I just get nervous LOL But! I will say, there's gonna probably be a bit I'm leaving out because it does involve my friends' characters and it's still an on-going thing atm (we tend to roleplay on lethal company as our guys. btw the oc group is called Cleanup Crew ! it explains the recent reblogs and new tags I've added on posts with this guy) AND this does also involve my own little interpretations of in-game mechanics and other things, but otherwise, I'll get the rest of him down!

Inspector, also originally known by the name of Terrance Conroy (or Terry), was a typical scavenger working under 'The Company' after a couple rough times on his home planet. (This information isn't necessarily set in stone, but the idea of him being a washed-up rock star before quitting his passion to get a job that pays his rent has been bouncing around in my brain.) He used to be a normal guy, trying to find a little hope in his desperate situation, and was a social butterfly. He tend to bounce from crew to crew, sometimes staying in some for only a couple days, and some for months. He was a very careful man, and looked out for his fellow crew members.

And then, one day, his first death on the job happens.

But instead of being greeted by a bright white light at the end of a tunnel, or complete pitch darkness, he appears on the ship again- completely physically fine.

This.. confuses him at first, yet he continues on.

And then he dies again. And again, and again. Over and over, the more deaths he's endured, the more he comes to a morbid realization that he can't truly die, nor can those around him. He tries to keep this truth hidden away from the others, as they seem to not have mentioned it at all before. He remembers everything. Every time he was ripped to shreds by an eyeless dog, every time he blew up into pieces from a landmine, every time he was shot multiple times, every time he was left behind or ejected as part of the disciplinary process- He felt it all and remembered it all. This goes on for the course of years (around 8-10 roughly) and over that course of time, he begins to grow very careless. What's the point of saving someone if they'll just come back? What's the use of tears when you're only a couple dollars off quota with a shovel in hand?

What's the point of it all? And with that carelessness comes selfishness into the picture. With how long he's been stuck in the cycle, he has become a very manipulative person, putting up a playful and nice persona on the outside- almost sickeningly sweet- in order to help other's do his bidding. He believes that if he were to cause so much chaos, disorder, and disruption within a crew, to where it's like animals mauling each other apart, he'd be able to break free from it himself. He doesn't care anymore about leaving others behind. He's desperate at this point to find a way out. Faux, who is an alter ego / disguise for Inspector, ties more into the on-going events right now, but I can give a basic rundown on his personality. He's a klutzy and quiet man, typically only talking to others when it's just him and them, and nobody else around, playing himself off as a selective mute. Since this is just Inspector in a jazzy little jester outfit, he still possesses all the traits of that man, just hidden away as to not blow his cover. He's still tugging on the strings in some way, people just don't realize. Sure, he's off putting and just a tad bit strange, but how can a goofy man like that be terrifying?

WOOOW ok that's a lot more typing than expected, but here's also a couple fun facts about the guy !

He stands at 6 feet and 1 inch, and is a very lanky guy compared to others, but this wasn't always the case. He used to just stand at 5 feet and 6 inches, and had more normal human proportions. With how many times he has died and how long it's been of the cycle, it has fucked up his appearance a LOT. Other things include : his 'skin' being grey, his voice constantly sounding like it's coming from a walkie talkie, no visible neck, his face becoming the helmet itself (it still bleeds, but there's nothing in there), and inhumanly flexible.

The only thing left of him that represents his last strand of humanity, is a singular, dim eye behind the tape on his visor.

He is very much not a rational man anymore. He is quick to jump to things, and won't hesitant with his actions.

When waiting to return from death, he is able to manifest in someone's head as a disembodied voice, and will typically mock them, or try and manipulate them further. In this state, he can see everything through the eyes of the person he's haunting. ^ Fun fact about this! This was originally based off a stupid bit where my friend was streaming LC to me with other buddies on the game and I kept telling them to step on landmines and then kill someone for a promotion, and then Inspector was born!

and UH I think that's about it I have for the guy atm! If the rest of the cleanup crew gets dropped than I'll update this accordingly perhaps. As of right now, enjoy my oc slop 👍

#lethal company #lethal company oc #oc #cleanup crew #that inspector that i hate #render

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thewulf · 10 months

Text

Interesting || Joel Miller

Summary: I’m craving some more Joel Miller angst to fluff. Hurt/Comfort even? And some Ellie! I haven’t seen much Ellie in your work so maybe her to? Up to you. Timeline set closer to the second game/season... Read Rest Here

A/N: Well... I started playing the second TLOU game and I got to that Abby scene and I'm... a mess. I don't think I can watch the second season of TLOU lmaooo byeee... ANYWAY please enjoy. Heads up - my summer classes are staring up so I'll be slowing way down on my posting for the next 8 weeks. Love you guys!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Y/N

Word Count: 6.5k+

It was cold. So fucking cold. You didn’t have your heavy jacket on you when you had to flee. Running for days. Days turned to nights turned back to days. You had to keep running. Every time you stopped they caught up to you. Hunted. That’s what was going on now. How sick. What a fun world. Hunted for fun at this point.

You kept going until your feet couldn’t physically move anymore. This was it. Hopefully the cold or the hunger took you before they found you. The same group of men who murdered your partner and his girlfriend so easily. Your partner and your good friend not thirty feet from you. Killed as if they weren’t anything. No mercy. Shot right in the chest five time each. You’d been out to use the restroom when they were ambushed. You were saved by mere minutes and a decision.

You’d wanted to scream. The people you’d been traveling the country with after escaping the Austin QZ years prior had been killed so senselessly. They weren’t infected. They weren’t a bother. They weren’t even hunting the area. They were killed for sport. For fun. No use. It’d been nearly twenty years since outbreak days and the horrors that humans committed still never sat right with you. It was so pointless. So senseless. It hurt knowing people were just cruel to be cruel.

It was life or death now. You were standing thirty feet from them and miraculously hadn’t spotted you yet. You took off without another thought. You didn’t have the right boots. You didn’t have the right coat. But this was your only chance. It was either that or get gunned down. As hellish as the world was you had some fucking sick desire to keep living in it. Good old human instinct. Fight to the very end.

You ran until you couldn’t anymore. Until you needed to rest. Finding a tree, you slid down to base of it using the trunk as a pillow. Sleep never came easy before but now? Now it seemed impossible when you were actively being hunted. But you needed it. You had to. So, you tried. Tried your best to get some sleep.

You felt it before you saw it. Fuck. Maybe you slept longer than you thought you would? How had they caught up to you already? You felt the barrel of some sort of rifle pressed to your temple like you’d felt so many times before. Would this finally be the time a bullet would actually be fired? Your end met?

You were able to turn getting quick look at whomever it was. To your utter surprise it was a girl. A small girl. Not a raider. Maybe just maybe you could talk your way out of this one.

“Who the fuck are you?” She tried to sound intimidating. You knew because you did the exact same. The both of you had to be brash. Aggressive. It was life or death outside the walls of a QZ.

You closed your eyes calculating what the hell to do. Tell her the truth? Lie straight to her face? Try and divert the conversation?

“Where am I?” You asked hearing your voice for the first time in days. It almost sounded foreign to you now.

She scoffed rolling her eyes pushing the gun further into your head, “I asked who the fuck you were.” You closed your eyes slowly feeling he cool metal pushing into the side of your head. She wasn’t going to do it. She didn’t want to do it.

“Y/N. You need to go.” You shivered feeling the effects of the melted snow crawling its way up your jeans. You didn’t have your sleeping bag to shield you between the ground and your clothes.

The barrel of the gun dropped slightly so it wasn’t contacting your head. She must’ve seen the fear in your eyes, “Why would I do that?” She still had the gun pointed at you. You wiggled your legs hoping you’d regain the feeling. You sighed knowing you still wouldn’t make it that far on foot. You were truly gassed.

“I’m being hunted. They’re bound to be here soon kid.” You didn’t feel like elaborating as you closed your eyes leaning your head back on the tree. How had it come to this? How did he die before you? He was the more careful one. He was the more calculated one. He was the one that deserved to live. Not you.

She frowned dropping the gun completely now, “What?”

Eyes opening slightly, you noticed her more relaxed stance, “Some raiders,” You sighed recalling what you’d been through in the last three days. Horror. Definitely your worst three days since outbreak day, “They killed my partner and his girlfriend. I’ve been running from them for a few days. I don’t really know anymore. Every time I think I’ve lost them they catch right back up.” You felt the tears coming on. You’d thought you’d already cried them out over the last three days but apparently not. You would have never of dreamed of crying in front of a stranger like this before. But what’d you have to lose at this point? You’d accepted your death. Who really cared if you cried in front of her. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered anymore.

She groaned suddenly very conflicted, “Fuck.” She threw her rifle over her shoulder, “Stay here.” You nodded seeing her jump on her horse and trot off calling for somebody named Joel.

You smiled knowing it was likely nearing the end for you. She didn’t have the guts to kill you. Not that you blamed her, you wouldn’t either. But you understood the world you now lived in. She had to go get this Joel person to do it. It was fine. You just hoped they would make it quick. Have some mercy on you. The raiders wouldn’t. They would take their time with you since you ran. Maybe it wasn’t the worst option.

You closed your eyes hoping maybe the darkness would take over again. But your wishes didn’t come true when you heard the girl’s voice shout, “Over here.” A much deeper than hers responded with a grunt. Must’ve been the Joel she was calling for.

“Ellie, this is a bad idea. Let’s head back.” You had to agree with him. This was a very bad idea. You tried moving your legs again, but you were left with literally nothing. You knew you weren’t paralyzed because you could feel them. They just didn’t have enough energy to move.

You just knew she was rolling her eyes. She seemed like the type, “Shut up. She’s right over here.” You heard her voice get much closer, “Found ya!” She grinned jumping down from her horse, “Over here old man!” She shouted a little too loudly for your comfort. What if the raiders were close?

“You did.” The smile that crossed your lips was rare. But you knew these would be your last moments anyway. Why not smile? Why not show that human emotion that always wanted to come out but had been refused for decades at this point.

“I brought you these. Well, actually Joel did. But he didn’t need them. You do. So here you go.” She handed you a pile of beef jerky and a bottle of what you assumed to be water.

You took them quickly before looking at her curiously, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Eat up.” She nodded watching you expectedly. You didn’t want to question her, but you had to wonder what the hell she was up to? Maybe they weren’t going to shoot you right then and there.

You shook your head in disbelief. You hadn’t a clue that Joel had been and continued to watch the interaction between the two women before him. Your smile was something like he hadn’t seen in years. It struck a small feeling in his heart as he watched your soft expression study Ellie. He didn’t like that he was thinking these thoughts about you. Last time he let that happen his heart was shattered in an instant when she was bitten. It’s a cruel fucking world he wished he didn’t have to participate in. He’d only looked at you for thirty god damned seconds and you had him questioning everything. What in the hell was wrong with him?

“Why?” You were too curious for you own good.

She shrugged, “Why not?”

You laughed in retort, “I can think of about a million reasons…” Joel smiled enjoying your truthfullness. He knew how sharp you had to be to survive with a partner out in the open let alone by yourself. He didn’t want to be impressed but with each word you spoke he grew a tad more curious.

Ellie stopped you by shaking her head quickly, “Just eat. Are you really arguing about the food right now?” She raised an eyebrow sitting down next to you.

You nodded, “Fair.” Taking a big bite of the jerky not really giving a damn what you looked like. This was everything you needed and more.

“Joel, you can come out now.” Ellie rolled her eyes. You felt a strange solace sitting by the girl. A comfort you rarely felt towards anybody let alone a complete stranger. She was so warm towards you. Unafraid of what you could be capable of. A pure heart.

You watched as the older man slowly approached watching the both of you cautiously. You smiled softly observing his careful nature. You took him in for a moment too long. Eyes making contact on accident you looked away quickly. Making sure to thank Ellie for the food. You knew you wouldn’t make it anywhere without it. Whether she’d admit it or not she literally did save your life.

Even you had to admit he was rather handsome. You’d have guessed he was fifteen or so years older than you. It didn’t mean you couldn’t appreciate what was right in front of you though. I mean come on. He was tall, muscular, gruff, and handsome. So, fucking handsome. It’d been a long time since you’d been able to appreciate a man’s attractiveness, but here you were. Appreciating him. How could you not? The man was everything you could’ve dreamed up.

“Sorry for him. He’s like this normally. Grumpy old dude.” She smiled seeing you devour the second strip. Whether you wanted to admit it or not you were starving, and the jerky strips were delicious.

“You infected?” He asked taking a small, cautious step forward.

You shook your head quickly, “No, I promise I’m not.” You put your hands up when his gun made aim for you. Oddly, you didn’t feel threatened by it. You knew he was doing it for their protection. Again, nothing you wouldn’t do. “Are you alone?” He looked around skeptically as if he didn’t believe your story. Like you’d planned an ambush or something. You didn’t blame him. You’d operated the same way until they got killed. You could never be too careful. You had to laugh to yourself, in a different world the two of you would’ve made amazing partners. You’d agreed with his and her tactics along each step in the overly cautious first meeting.

You nodded your head, “Technically yes. But I am being tracked. Hunted if you will.” You didn’t want to lie to him either. You watched as his hardened face took in your words and softened ever so slightly as he truly registered your words. Hunted. Who would hunt you?

You didn’t give him much time to respond as you went through the same story you told Ellie an hour prior. How the only people you’d loved for so long had been killed so mercilessly. While you were alone you weren’t alone out here. He understood taking a second looking at Ellie before turning back to you.

“Come on.” He sighed pointing at Ellie, “You’re explanin’ this to Tommy and Maria.” He grumbled before hopping on his horse trotting away without waiting on the two of you.

Ellie’s grin instantly brought joy right to you. She wasn’t like anyone you’d met before. Pre or post outbreak. She stood giving you her hand, “Can you stand?”

You nodded knowing you were going to have to find your way onto the horse, “Yeah.” You took her hand letting her pull you up, “Thanks.” You mumbled finding your footing. Using your arm, you leaned on the tree while you let the blood rush through your legs again. Already feeling lightheaded from the exertion, you didn’t know how far you’d actually make it.

“Sure, think you can make it up on Shimmer?” She pointed to the brown horse with a white diamond on its forehead. It was the simple things like naming horses that felt so domestic it almost hurt you. You craved for the world that little 14-year-old you grew up in a lifetime ago. Where you could go horseback riding or apple picking without a care in the world.

You were 16 going on 17 when the world went to hell right before your very eyes. You’d been a lucky one already living in Austin when it was walled off and sealed from the outside world. You’d spent ten years living and working low wage jobs and living in shitty apartment with your brother before he was killed in a random shooting down in the streets not far from where you lived. You’d already lost your mom on outbreak day and your father not long after that.

Then you met him. Joseph. Joey. Your partner. You’d started with small runs just for extra cash, so you didn’t have to work those shitty jobs endlessly. Then he’d convinced you to go on the run with him. It only took him a few months then you’d agreed. You’d met Sasha on the way. His girl. She was quick and smart. You’d become fast friends and the three of you became a trio. For ten years you’d lived as such. You’d never found anyone. It was alright with you. You were just trying to survive. You were ready to live that way for the rest of your life. Overly content with your best friends.

That was until they were murdered.

“I can try.” You walked over slowly, carefully. Thankful for the food you’d eaten only moments prior given you a little strength. You’d managed to find the stirrup and hoist yourself up. Ellie noticed you struggling to throw your leg over, so she helped. Using he shoulder she pushed a leg up and over the smaller horse. You sighed feeling horrifically weak. Thank God you’d managed to be found by two people who weren’t going to hurt you.

“Thanks again, Ellie.” You mumbled grabbing onto her once she hopped in front of you to guide the horse back to wherever the hell they came from.

She kept her eyes forward as she had Shimmer move forward trying to catch up to Joel. She was still on patrol after all, “Yeah, no problem. You owe me though.” She grinned knowing you were kind enough not to argue back.

“Yeah, I mean I do. Saved my ass.” You leaned your head on her back as the horse trotted along. You didn’t want to, but you were exhausted. It was taking everything in you not to pass out right then and there. So, laying on her was your only option to saving the energy needed to stay awake.

You must’ve nodded in and out of consciousness as she shouted at you abruptly, “Y/N!”

“Yeah?” Your eyes opened in surprised. The gentle rhythm of the horses steps stopped so suddenly.

“You’ve gotta stay awake.” She sounded more annoyed than worried. You appreciated her for that. You had to admit you’d be acting the same way.

“I’m trying.” You hummed knowing you weren’t going to make it, “But I feel so heavy.” Your knew your words were slurring as you tried holding onto her tighter. You heard her call for Joel before you slumped into her further succumbing to the darkness in front of you.

You woke under the most comfortable set of covers in what looked to be a home in the woods. Turning in the bed you saw the fireplace was blazing lowly keeping the room cozy compared to the freezing outdoors that had nearly killed you. The memories of the last few hours came rushing back. Looking around you didn’t see anybody in the room with you. Where in the hell were you anyway?

When you stood you noticed the IV hooked up to your arm. That was probably why you were feeling so much fucking better. It was light out. Probably mid-day. That meant you were either out for almost a day since Ellie and Joel found you last night. You rolled the cart with you as you made your way to the bedroom door. You probably should’ve been more freaked out, but you still felt oddly calm about the whole situation. You’d already accepted your death, and this was somehow turning out to be the best-case scenario.

Opening the door, you braced for the worst thankful to be met by a mostly empty living room. The whole thing felt oddly familiar. Like your own family home so long-ago pre-outbreak. You tried walking out only to be stopped by the IV stand getting blocked in the doorway, “Shit.” You groaned knowing you had just inadvertently pulled out your IV and were probably profusely bleeding.

You quickly grasped your forearm with your free hand hoping to stop some of the blood flow.

“Oh! You’re up.” Ellie’s cheerful voice rang from behind you. Spinning around her face dropped once she saw the blood dripping from your arm, “Shit, Maria!” She called loudly for the woman. She just wasn’t good with this kind of stuff. She knew what she was good at and it certainly wasn’t care taking.

“Yes, Ellie?” The woman named Maria came running out of what you presumed to be the kitchen.

Ellie just pointed at you and your arm. Maria’s eyes followed. She didn’t say much before springing into action. She pulled you into the bathroom not far from your room.

“Sorry.” You spoke softly as she worked to close the IV line in your arm.

She shook her head, “It’s okay. Are you alright?” She did a once over of your appearance, much more pleased with your normal color rather than the ghostly pale one you came in with.

“I am. Much better. Thank you. For that. All of this.” You weren’t much for words. Joey never was. Sasha got you talking more often but even she tired of your shorter answers. Ever since your brother passed you hadn’t had much to speak into the world. A part of you died with him all those years ago.

She nodded slowly. Eyes right on the spot of the bleeding. She cleaned it up before wrapping it. Ellie stood in the doorway watching the whole thing. As much as she didn’t want to know she needed to know. She had to know these kinds of things. Maria wouldn’t always be around to do it for her.

“Sure thing.”

“Where am I?” You had to ask again. Ellie never gave you an answer when you asked the day prior. This was all so incredible to you. The bathroom lights worked. There was hot water coming out of the sink. The house smelled good and was well maintained. People lived here.

She stood up watching you admire the space before you. She knew how amazing it was. Especially when you hadn’t seen anything like it in years. Sure, the QZ had power, but it was spotty at best. It certainly didn’t have heat or air-conditioning. That was a luxury few had.

“Jackson, Wyoming.” She answered your question, “A small commune. We’ve been here for almost ten years now.

“Wow.” You walked out of the bathroom after Ellie moved looking around you. Ellie forgot how incredible it all really was. It was easy to get complacent, “This is amazing. I’ve never run into a place like this.”

She smiled, “Few and far in between. We stay quiet. For good reason.”

You nodded, “I won’t tell anyone, I promise. I’ll get out of your hair soon. Thank you for everything.”

She gave you a quizzical look, “Where are you going?” Ellie watched in almost amusement. Where did you think you were going?

You shrugged, “Not sure, I guess.” You didn’t have a plan, but it wasn’t staying here. You didn’t think you were wanted.

Maria laughed. Straight belly laughed in your face. Ellie joined in when she didn’t stop. You smiled feeling the contagion hit. You couldn’t even help the small laughs that left your lips. What another foreign fucking feeling. You hadn’t laughed in literal years. Joey wasn’t one for the giggles and Sasha always respected that. That was a piece of you that you thought died with your brother.

“You’re tough. That’s for sure. But you wouldn’t make it far. You’ll stay.” She said so matter of factly you weren’t even sure if you were going to question her. Like it was so unquestionable.

“Really?” You weren’t sure why you kept pressing your luck, but you did.

She nodded, “You’re young, able bodied and will be completely healed up here soon. We’d love to have you here.”

You looked out the front door in awe of the rows of homes that lined the street. You assumed you were in some sort of neighborhood. You watched as a pair of children raced down the street on bicycles screaming and laughing as the snow slush spit out behind them. You smiled as a neighbor tried to get their dog to come inside but clearly wasn’t having it. Everything looked and felt so oddly normal. Like you were taken and placed back in time from so long ago.

“Half a mile north is the town square. Joel and Ellie live a few houses down that way. We’ll put you up in a home across the street from them. Tommy and Joel just finished it up.” She pointed as she spoke.

You kept looking at her like it was all a big dream. Maybe the raiders really did get you. How were you to be the one to get so lucky? It just didn’t seem right.

You nodded afraid your voice would crack.

“Ellie, why don’t you show her the house? There’s a coat by the door for you. Ellie and I picked some clothes out for you while you were asleep and left them in the house.”

“Thank you. For all of this. I can’t even begin to thank you for everything.” Speaking quietly, you found it hard to look them in the eye. This wasn’t common. People being kind for the good of it. Because they didn’t want to kill.

She gave Maria a curt nod before putting her coat and shoes coaxing you along, “Come on Y/N.” You followed her out of Maria’s home after putting on the new boots she had gotten you. Again, you thanked her profusely still not used to the kindness. You were ready to do whatever the town needed now. Need a hunter? You’d learn. Patrol? You had a good shot. Gardner? That’s what you were good at.

You were used to walking quietly. Sasha would often fill the void with her chatter. You and Joey would occasionally chime in. Sometimes Sasha would find a topic that got you interested in for more than five minutes. Those times were rare though. You were merely surviving in this world. You weren’t here to thrive.

Ellie was apparently not used to walking in silence. She started bombarding you with questions the second you left the warmth of Maria’s home. The cold hit you like a ton of bricks. It amazed you how you were able to survive it in the open for as long as you did.

“Where are you from?” She asked once you got your bearings about you.

You smiled remembering that old life. The one that seemed so fucking simple compared to this, “Texas.”

“Just like Joel!”

A small smile crept over your lips. The two of you seemed to have so much in common the more you learned about him, “Oh yeah?”

She nodded smiling, “Yeah!��

“What about you? Where are you from Ellie?”

She shrugged, “Grew up in Boston.”

You had to laugh, “We’re far from home.”

She joined in, “Do we really have a home anymore?”

Looking down at her you didn’t try to hide the frown, “I’m afraid not. Especially now that I have no one. Again.” You felt defeated. Each time you started to build a life it was suddenly ripped right from your grasp. First your brother, then Joey and Sasha.

Her soft smile felt sincere as you nodded contemplating what to tell her. Again, what did you have to lose? Might as well tell her everything. So, everything you did. The two of you walked slow as you told her all about your brother. How he was killed. How you found a new person in Joey. How the rest turned to history.

She was fascinated by your story. She thought that she had been on an adventure but couldn’t fathom what you’d been through by being outside a QZ for nearly ten years. She hadn’t heard about many people like you. Probably because there weren’t many people like you. It was too brutal. Too risky. One slip up and it’s over. Joey and Sasha were proof of that. You should’ve been but you were lucky. So fucking lucky.

You were nothing short of amazed when you walked into the home, and it already seemed cozier than Maria’s. Everything was stocked with anything you could need. The kitchen cabinets were loaded, the clothes were piled high on the bed on the main floor.

You’d invited her to stay to keep talking. For whatever reason Ellie was able to pull it out of you. You wanted to talk to her. Ask her questions. She was so real in this fucked up world. Too often the people you came by tried to sugar coat the situation. She was refreshing. A rarity.

You were sure you would’ve kept going had Joel not walked right through the front door. Only freezing when Ellie let out a, “What the fuck are you doing in here?”

He turned giving her a stunned expression, “Me? What are you doing in here?” He’d known her for years now, but he never tired of her personality. He adored it. Adored the kid growing far too fast for his liking.

Ellie, again, pointed right at you making Joel’s eyes lock with yours. You gave him a soft grin, waving slowly feeling a tad uncomfortable by the attention. Joel relaxed immediately.

“You’re up? Already?” He so desperately wanted to walk forward and give you a once over. The strange desire to protect you hadn’t gone away. But he knew better. You can’t get attached in this world. Never ever. He’d already let Ellie in on his small circle. He couldn’t let it get too big. That’s when bad things started happening.

“I am.” You nodded. A woman of few words. What were you supposed to say? It’s not like he gave

“You look a lot better.” He commented before turning to Ellie again. He’d sit there and stare at you all day if it wasn’t so god damn creepy.

“I feel it too. Thank you.” You kept it short this time. Thanking him not only for the comment but for agreeing to help you in the woods.

He nodded feeling a small heat creep up his neck. He needed to snap the hell out of it and quick. He couldn’t be having physical reactions to such innocent comments. It seemed as if you were trying to kill him already and you didn’t even fucking know it. He was a goner, and he knew it. His only chance was to avoid you. But he had a feeling that’d be damn near impossible with you living right across the street and Ellies uncanny ability to make friends with almost anybody she wanted… he was toast.

Ellie noticed. Course she noticed. She loved picking on her surrogate father. A dude who’d never claimed to be but always took on the role. People problems? She ran to Joel. Gun issues? She called for Joel’s help. Issues with schoolwork? She used Joels contractor brain to solve her issues. It was her role as his self-proclaimed adopted daughter to make his life a living hell. A fun living hell.

“Y/N! Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight?” Ellie grinned giving Joel the side eye, “Joel’s making burgers and they’re so good.”

Joel’s eyes went wide as he glared at the girl. She had a knack for picking up on things far too quickly for his liking.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose.” You spoke. It already felt like you were a burden on Joel. Hell, he wouldn’t even turn to look at you.

Joel turned back almost accepting defeat so soon, “It’s fine. It’s no imposition.” Short and to the point.

“Alright. I’ll come over.” You smiled sweetly at Joel hoping he’d know it was a thank you. You didn’t know how rare the smile Joel flashed you was. When he turned back to Ellie he was scowling once again. She hadn’t a clue he’d flashed you one too.

“Six work?” He asked.

You nodded, “Six works.”

“Okay.” He turned to leave before Ellie stood to stop him.

“Weren’t you here for something?”

He pointed at her, “The sink. Need to hook up the washer. Last thing.” He nodded at you as he disappeared off into the kitchen leaving the two of you once again. You continued talking until he left. Ellie got up to follow him over letting you get settled before tonight.

“He likes snickerdoodle cookies by the way.”

You had to laugh shaking your head, “Of course. Every Texan’s favorite cookie.”

She nodded her head excitedly, “So you know how to make them?”

“By heart. I’d never forget.”

She clapped her hands together. You were clueless as hell to her devious plan. Operation get Joel together with Y/N. Joel never showed interest in a single soul. So, the second he did Ellie was going to pounce on it. That was her promise, “Perfect. See you tonight with those snickerdoodles!” She waved before shutting your door. It still amazed you this was now your life. A little safe haven in the middle of no where Wyoming. What could go wrong?

You’d rapid fire knocked on their front door. It was so fucking freezing out here. How you didn’t freeze to death was a mystery.

Ellie flung the door open not too long after, “You look pretty.” She commented after taking your coat from you.

Smiling you nodded, “Showers help quite a bit.”

She shook her head, “No, I think your just a pretty person.

“Ellie!” Joel called through a door, “Would you stop?” That’s when Joels eyes caught yours. He was a bit taken aback. Ellie was right. You weren’t just pretty. You were drop dead fucking gorgeous. Who in the hell were you?

Your soft smile turned to one much larger, “It’s sweet. Thank you Ellie.” Ruffling her hair, you walked over to him. He wanted desperately to back away into the kitchen. You were all consuming. Too much for him to handle. But he also didn’t want to see you frown or get upset by his actions.

Handing him a small plate of cookies you grinned looking up at him, “For you. As a thank you. A little birdie told me you liked snickerdoodle’s.”

He laughed taking them from your grasp as gently as he could, “You didn’t have to.”

“I know. I wanted to. You’ve all been so kind. It’s a small thank you.”

He took them gratefully meeting your eyes again, “Come on in, burgers are almost done. I’m sure Ellie wants to show you around.”

She nodded, “Those cookies… are for me to? As a thank you?”

You laughed a good true laugh. One that was so absent from your life for so long, “Of course Ellie. I’ll even make some more if you ask.”

She immediately went to hug you tightly, “Thank you! Now come on, I wanna show you my room.” She grabbed your hand dragging you along without much reluctance.

Joel watched the innocent interaction with love in his eyes. It was easy for Ellie to make friends, but it wasn’t easy for her to actually like them. Ellie didn’t like many people. Joel most days. Maria sometimes. Tommy almost never. Dina all the time. She seemed to genuinely like you. He hadn’t seen Ellie so eager to help with such a spark in her eye. Like she found a sister. Somebody with a common bond.

Maybe it could work with you. You seemed sweet. He knew you were more than capable. Who in the hell just lives outside the QZ? You were mad and he kind of loved it. He’d known you for what? All of an hour and here he was planning stuff with you in mind? He was mad and he didn’t know if he loved it or not.

Joel was setting out the onion and tomato Ellie pulled from the garden earlier out when the two of you walked into the kitchen.

“So, who was your favorite singer before the outbreak happened?” Ellie asked ignoring Joel’s curious glance up from the kitchen.

You laughed remembering those days spent gossiping in the hallways of your high school. What you’d give to go live a day like that again, “Not a person, a band. NSYNC. God, they were everything to me. Sixteen and had dreams of marrying JC one day.” You hummed remembering the posters that lined your bedroom wall.

Ellie grinned ear to ear hearing that response, “Guess what I have on the CD player?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“Shut the hell up. Don’t tell me you have an NSYNC album?” You beamed with excitement. Oh, how long it’d been since you’d heard that band sing. You’d occasionally hear music hear and there. Nothing consistent though.

“I do! After dinner we can listen.” Ellie looked proud of herself Joel noticed. You looked like a little kid in a candy store eating that information up.

“That was Sarah’s favorite band too. That or what’s the other one? The Back Boys?” Joel joined in setting the burgers down at the table. He’d taken a seat next to you and not Ellie at the four-person table.

“The Backstreet Boys.” You laughed appreciating that he somewhat remembered, “I liked them. But preferred NSYNC. Who’s Sarah?” You never knew when things would get awkward, but you felt the air shift in the room.

“My daughter.” Joel answered forgetting you weren’t already part of the family. How quickly you seemed to mold in.

You nodded deciding not to press further, “She has wonderful taste.”

“Had.” He sighed knowing you weren’t planning on leaving anytime soon. What would be the use in hiding it or lying about it? The truth always came out. It could never hide, “She was shot on outbreak day.”

You nodded in understanding. You’d lost as much as he had at the same time, “I’m sorry. It never gets easier does it?”

He shook his head, “Never. Who’d you lose?” He didn’t care for pleasantries and what was proper. He wanted to get to know you the real you. You prepared your burger as you thought of your answer. Taking your time letting Joel know you needed it.

“My mom on outbreak day. My dad a few days later. Shot by FEDRA. My brother ten years after that. Killed in a Firefly incident.” You leaned back in your chair observing his reaction while he studied yours.

He nodded silently while fixing his plate.

“Was life fun?” Ellie asked, “Before?”

You laughed taking a long swig of the iced tea Joel had poured for you, “My life was. It was amazing. It wasn’t perfect but it was everything.”

Joel nodded in agreement, “It surely wasn’t perfect. There was stress. But it was different.”

You smiled, “I prefer that stress. Can I afford my gas this week? Rather than am I dying today?”

It got a chuckle out of both of them as Joel nodded agreeing with you, “Much preferred to this.”

Before anybody could respond the landline rang. It was a sound so unfamiliar it had you jumping out of your seat, “Is that a telephone?”

Joel nodding with a slick smirk on his face, “They have everything here.”

Ellie shot up from her seat, “That might be Dina! I told her to call after her patrol. Do you mind?” She gave Joel the cheesiest grin. He simply waved her off which was his signal to let her know it was fine, she could go.

You watched him watch her. It was clear he loved her dearly. Maybe even as much as a daughter. You hadn’t met many men like him, but you knew he was special. Just like Ellie was. You’d needed this so bad. So, fucking desperately. Just when you didn’t think you could go on it’s like the universe gave you a new purpose. One to simply exist and learn now. Grow and feel safe again. Like the challenge had been conquered and you were being given your reward. You just needed to take it. He was sitting right there watching you now, lost in thought.

He didn’t turn once you caught him staring. He just smiled and continued watching. You decided to ignore him and start eating. Too enticed by the smell rather than wait on Ellie.

He grinned joining you, “You’re very interesting, Y/N.” He simply stated after taking a large bite from his burger.

“Hopefully a good interesting and not a bad one.” Your heart sped up as he acknowledged you.

“Definitely the good one.” He tipped his head as if there was a hat on his head, “We don’t get too many new commers around here. When we do they’re usually stuffy. It’s nice to have ya. A nice change.” That’d definitely been the most he had spoken to you since you got here, and it was incredibly kind. He was trying and that was simply more than you could ask for. Just as Ellie had sensed it you had too. You’d seen his apprehension die down as he got to know you just a bit more. He was beginning to feel calm in your presence. Bringing out the good in him.

“Thank you Joel.” You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. You didn’t bother putting makeup on. Honestly, you’d forgotten how to do it. And why would you have needed it? You had forgotten how blissfully your cheeks exposed you at the drop of a hat.

“Anytime darlin’, anytime.” He didn’t know where in the hell this was going to end up, but he was starting to get more than excited for the ride he was about to take. The gleam in your eye told him he needed to buckle up or you’d buck him right on off.

Taglist: @loving-and-dreaming

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strawberryshortcake0413 · 8 months

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Rainy night

Hi! My name is Andrea and this is my first time writing a fanfic. English isn't my first language so if you spot any mistakes or just some tips, let me know ♡.

Leon Kennedy x female!reader

Warning: fluff, mention of labor, Leon being a dad, RE4 Leon, no smut and some baby taking care of stuff like changing diapers or feeding etc.

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The raindrops hit the window, making a little sound of pod pod. The Kennedy family was sleeping peacefully after a long day of changing diapers, washing bottles, and answering the calls from friends as they congratulated on gaining one new member of their family. The new parents were in the bedroom sleeping to get rest while it rained. Now and then lightning strikes the sky, making a loud noise. The infant squirmed in his crib uncomfortably as he heard the noise. As the little Kennedy opened his baby blue eyes, hunger and fear came inside him.

The faint wailing from the nursery woke Leon in the middle of the night. Ever since becoming a parent, Leon has been trying his best to help his wife nurse and take care of the baby. It was hard seeing you suffer in the long 14 hours of labor. It was the least he could do while you recovered. During the day he would wash the bottles, change some diapers and make some food. He wasn't the best cook in the world but in his opinion, he makes decent food. Luckily the government gave Leon his parental leave for 8 weeks, so he was looking forward to bonding with his baby and helping his wife.

Leon carefully got out of the bed, making sure to not wake you up. He rubbed his eyes a bit and waddled to the nursery slowly. The green walls of the small room were now grey from the night and the clouds. Leon reached his hands to the small baby and held him in his arms, close to his chest. Even though the blonde man was sleepy, he tried to smooth the child and sang a lullaby to him. After a few minutes of whining and kicking his feet, the baby calmed a bit looking at his father's face. Leon placed the baby in his crib and went downstairs to prepare a bottle to put his child to sleep.

As he mixed the formula with warm water, the thoughts of how this was unbelievably true came to Leon's mind. Sure he had always dreamed of having a little family of his own, but with the things he had seen, it was a hopeless dream. Until he met you. A pretty, nice, kind girl. Smiling at him while he stood there in the bakery like a damn idiot staring into your eyes.

"Sir? Are you okay? Do you want something?" you smiled at the handsome young man.

"Oh... Um. I.. I-I'll take the cheesecake please" said Leon stuttering a bit nervously.

That's how you met him. He began visiting the bakery almost every day, worrying you might think he was a creep. But luckily you liked Leon and never got scared or creeped out. Soon after he got the courage to take you out on a date and you two started dating. After a year or two he proposed with a nice silver ring and you had your baby.

Leon chuckled to himself and went inside the nursery holding the bottle. The baby was babbling to himself and playing with the toys hanging from his crip. Leon carefully held the baby and sat down on the rocking chair to feed him. It was around 2 a.m. The rain still watering the outside world, while the boy sucked the bottle eagerly. Soon after his small eyes, resembling Leon's started to close up. Leon smiled to himself put his baby carefully in his crib and took the bottle away. He kissed the forehead of the child and went to his bedroom to sleep.

Just as Leon was getting under the covers, you woke up from the shift on the bed.

"What happened hun?" you asked yawning.

"Nothing love. Just our little precious woke up. I got it tho" smiled Leon kissing your cheek.

"Love you" you mumbled sleepy before cudding with your husband.

"Love you too" smiled Leon starting to sleep while hugging your warm body.

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So, I can't believe I actually posted this.. but I am looking forward to improve my writing. Leave a request if you want to, I would love to hear some suggestions. Bye ♡

*the photos aren't mine. Credits to the owners*

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #re4r leon #leon kennedy imagine #re4 leon #resident evil

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ailendolin · 1 month

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Tomorrow - A MotA Fic

Title: Tomorrow [AO3]

Characters: Rosie Rosenthal, Ken Lemmons & Harry Crosby

Summary: On the evening of D-Day, Rosie makes sure Ken gets some rest.

A/N: Inspired by Rosie waiting for Crosby to wake up in part 8. This is based on the characters portrayed in MotA, not the real people the characters are based on.

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Tomorrow

“What are you still doing up?”

Ken glanced up, an amused look on his face that was softened by the gentle glow of the lamp at his feet and had no hope of hiding the exhaustion carved into the laughter lines around his eyes. “I could ask you the same thing, Captain.”

Rosie raised one of his eyebrows before he pointed out, “I asked first.”

The soft laugh Ken huffed out, lacking its usual vibrancy, echoed hauntingly around the hardstand for a moment. Then Ken sighed. “Just doing my job, sir. Getting the birds ready to fly again.”

“On your own?”

Ken shrugged. “After the day we’ve had, the crew deserved some rest.”

“And you don’t?” Rosie couldn’t help but ask as he took in the dark shadows beneath Ken’s eyes, the drooping of his shoulders, the way his hands trembled almost imperceptibly at his sides.

Dropping his gaze to the ground, Ken gave another shrug. “Someone’s got to get the work done.”

“Yeah, Kenny, – tomorrow,” Rosie said, just a little exasperated, and gently grabbed his wrist to tug him away from the plane. After Crosby, he wasn’t going to let another friend work himself into the ground, not if he could help it. With Croz, he hadn’t had the chance to step in – hadn’t even known anything was wrong until the briefing this morning and Croz wasn’t there. With Kenny, that was different. He’d seen him just yesterday, before and after his mission to Boulogne, and he’d already looked tired then. The ground crews had worked almost as tirelessly as Croz had in the days leading up to D-Day, and with the number of missions flown today and the day before, Rosie had a feeling none of them had been able to catch a break in the last 48 hours.

And it showed – in the way Ken allowed himself to be led away from the engine he’d been tinkering with without a single word of protest; in the way he seemed to stumble over his own feet in the dark and lean into Rosie’s side more and more the longer they walked; in the way his eye sometimes slid shut for a second or two until he jolted himself awake again. It wasn’t the first time Rosie was hit by how young he was and how much responsibility his young shoulders carried, but out here in the quiet of the night, the shadows seemed intent on driving the point home. They were all young but Ken – he’d only been twenty when he’d arrived here a year ago; a kid, thrown into a brutal world and tasked with more responsibility than anyone his age should have to bear. Ken had always tried to cover the weight of it with smiles and laughter but Rosie had seen the cracks in his façade, small at first but growing bigger. When one of his planes didn’t come home, Ken went awfully quiet these days, and before he began fixing those that did he often had to take a deep, steadying breath to calm his nerves.

It had started with Major Cleven’s loss. Rosie was pretty sure guilt played a major role in Ken’s silent downward spiral since then but something else did as well – a loss of support. He’d noticed the way Major Cleven would check up on Ken both before and after missions, how he’d sometimes bring him a coffee in the early hours of the morning or tell him in the late hours of the night, “Go to sleep, Kenny. You’ve done enough for today.”

Then he got shot down and no one stepped in to fill Major Cleven’s role. At first Rosie thought Major Egan might but he’d been so lost in his own grief that it quickly became apparent he wasn’t able to look out for anyone else. So Rosie took it upon himself to step in and check up on the best crew chief in the ETO whenever he could. He knew Ken had other people looking out for him – people like Winks who’d known him for far longer than Rosie had. But Winks always had to toe the line between being Ken’s friend and his subordinate. Rosie didn’t. With him, Ken did not have to be Master Sergeant Kenneth A. Lemmons who was not only responsible for the people under his command, but also the planes they sent up into the air and the crews who flew in them. He could just be Kenny, a young man from Arkansas who missed his home and family and sometimes felt like he was drowning in guilt and grief.

“Tent’s that way, sir,” Ken mumbled, pulling him out of his thoughts. He was pointing towards the darkness to their left.

“You’re going to sleep in a proper bed tonight,” Rosie said firmly and kept on walking. A little softer, he amended, “Well, the Air Force equivalent of one.”

For a moment, Ken craned his neck to look back at the murky darkness that hid the tent he and his crew more often than not chose to rest in when they were working on the planes. It made Rosie wonder how many of his crew were sleeping there right now, having been too exhausted to make the long trek back to the barracks.

“Why go to all this trouble?” Ken asked quietly. His voice sounded small in the darkness, and tired.

Rosie tightened his hold on him. “Because I don’t want you fainting like Croz.”

At that Ken looked up, a furrow between his brows. “Major Crosby fainted?”

“Yep,” Rosie said, popping the p. “Collapsed from sheer stubbornness and exhaustion, to use Kidd’s words. He’s been asleep all day. Missed the whole thing, if you can believe it.”

“Oh,” Ken breathed. He looked at the darkness around them, his gaze unfocused and just a little lost. Then, so quietly Rosie had to strain to hear him, he said, “Thank you, sir.”

Rosie clenched his jaw.

Don’t thank me, he wanted to say. Not for this. Not for something that should go without question.

Compassion, he’d quickly realised after flying his first mission, was one of the first casualties of war. Just as he couldn’t allow himself to think about the civilians going about their everyday lives down in the cities he bombed, Ken no longer had the luxury to feel for the crews he sent up into the skies. The heart did what it had to to protect itself, and it made for a hard, lonely life. Rosie sometimes wondered if any of them would come back from this with their humanity intact, and what prize they’d have to pay for it.

When the barracks finally rose out of the night ahead of them, he gave Ken’s arm a squeeze. “Almost there, Kenny.”

Ken was fading fast now that the exhaustion was beginning to win the fight against the adrenaline. He stumbled up the few steps to the barracks as if he were drunk, and when he sank down onto his bunk bed and curled up without even attempting to change out of his clothes, Rosie didn’t hesitate to pull the blanket up over his narrow frame.

“There you go,” he murmured softly. “You just rest now, Kenny.”

There was something heartbreakingly innocent about the way Ken looked up at him at that – almost like a child gazing at his parents as they tucked him in, silently begging them to keep the monsters under the bed at bay for the night. But he did not ask Rosie to stay, and he did not tell him about the things he saw when he closed his eyes and dreamed. Instead, he pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders and whispered, “Get some rest as well?”

Rosie smiled and resisted the urge to reach out and ruffle his hair. “I will, Kenny. Don’t you worry about me. See you in the morning.”

“Yes, sir,” Ken mumbled before his breathing slowly evened out and his face relaxed. The worry and tension around his eyes gave way to an almost peaceful expression, and as Rosie headed for the door, he hoped it would remain that way for the rest of the night. If any of them deserved a good night’s rest, it was certainly Ken.

Before he made his way to his own barracks, he stopped by Crosby’s to make sure he was still asleep and resting as well. He already knew he would do the same tomorrow – check up on Croz, then on Ken and sit with them both for a while until duty called once more. It was what friends did, and Rosie was glad he could do this much for the people who kept him up in the air and made sure he found his way to the target and back home again.

With that thought, he finally settled down on his bunk just before midnight on D-Day. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he closed his eyes and surrendered to the pull of sleep with a tired but content sigh, knowing he played a small part to ensure that the world he would wake up to tomorrow would be a better place.

#ken lemmons #rosie rosenthal #masters of the air #mota fic #my fic

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