#because ive run out of clean clothes

[writa-anon]

Francis Mosses (The Milkman) Headcanons ~!

a / n ~ havent written fanfic in a while and ive been a little obsessed with tnmn recently so i decided to write my little hcs for milkman! relatively wholesome and more just me giving him lore :3

GREW UP AS A MIDDLE CHILD, which is why he's so reserved and quiet. Doesn't really like the spotlight on him and lives his quaint life by himself satisfied.

TOOK PIANO LESSONS WHEN HE WAS YOUNGER. Still has that skill but typically doesn't like to flaunt. Has a humble old piano in his apartment he plays but very softly to not disturb his neighbors.

HE WORKS ANOTHER JOB AT NIGHT, WHICH IS WHY HE’S ALWAYS SO TIRED. His milkman job is a part-time job, hence why he rarely shows up during doorman afternoon shift. I'd like to think he works double to either help support his parents, child support for Anastasha, or saving up to buy a house of his own.

BIG SOFTIE FOR SMALL CREATURES. When he does his milkman runs around the block, he definitely pets the local strays and feeds them spare crackers he may have packed for lunch. He wishes he could keep one but doesn’t really have the time and plus the apartment complex doesn’t allow pets because of doppel precautions!

HES A BIT OF A MESS. but if he's not sleeping throughout the day, he definitely makes an effort in cleaning his place up and making a proper meal for himself. On overwhelming workdays though, his clothes are scattered everywhere and it's quick and easy meals for dinner.

HES A DISTANT FATHER. there's no way he ISN’T in contact with Nacha. They live in the same complex for crying out loud! He knows he's the father of Anastasha, however, was too scared to take on the responsibility of fatherhood, esp since this was in his early 20s. However, he does keep in contact with Nacha about updates and they are still on speaking terms.

BARELY SOCIALIZES WITH NEIGHBORS. He isn't necessarily buddy-buddy with any of his neighbors, however there is some acquaintance with Angus and Izaack (mainly because of their extroverted personalities, they must be known by everyone in the complex!).

SUPER SHY to physical affection or any type of affection for that matter. I feel like it would take a good while for him to do any sort of first moves. He would do a little secret admiring from afar just to warm up to it. Nothing too intense. Maybe leaving a rose or a nice compliment on the front desk while no one is looking. Definitely had to be hyped up by Isaack to go through with it. (I’m currently writing a fic about it!)

~~~~~~~

short but detailed. these are just my little thoughts :)

#thats not my neighbour milkman #tnmn #thats not my neighbor #tnmn milkman #francis mosses #milkman x reader #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #milkman #wholesome

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field IV

summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.5k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and discussion of abuse, so read with caution!!

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a/n: im just hammering this out at this point-

next part

The following days were full of a new routine. Every morning, take pain medication for your now neverending migraine, gather food for Lucy Gray and the Snow's, check in with Jessup and redress his bite as best you can, go to the hospital and be denied visitation to Coryo, go to class, and then start the cycle again that afternoon. You were getting burnt out, and quickly- your parents were displeased that you weren't home as often. Their patience was wearing thin.

If you were honest with yourself, your patience was also wearing thin. You were catering to Lucy Gray, which of course you agreed to do, but in the case that she wins the games, the Plinth Prize would not be going to you. It would still go to Coriolanus- and he was in the hospital doing nothing but recovering. Which was good. You remind yourself several times a day that you are happy to help because at least he isn't dead.

The sun is setting when Coriolanus wakes up again, this time feeling less groggy. He's been in and out the last few days, most of it as a blur due to the pain medication that has been pumping into his system through an IV for the last few days. He does vaguely remember waking up to eat as much as he could stomach, talking to Clemensia, maybe, unless he was hallucinating, and telling a nurse to stop letting you in when he kept seeing covered plates and glass containers showing up with more food. It had to have been you, and while he was grateful for it, he loathed the idea of you pitying him.

Tigris and Sejanus were both present, now, and despite telling the staff to not let you in, he's more than a little disappointed you are not there. He furrows his brow, attempting to pull out the tube from his hand. "Hey, hey-" Tigris stops him, shaking her head out of confusion. "What are you doing?"

"I'm fine. I'm better." He insists, pushing her hand away.

"I need to go check on Lucy Gray..." He mumbles, shaking his head.

"Y/N is with her. She's fine." Sejanus tells him, standing by the end of the bed.

"Now? What time is it? How do you know?"

"Well, the interviews will start in an hour or so." His friend explains.

"An hour?" Coriolanus asks, now more frantically pulling out the tube with a hiss. He has to be there, he has to go introduce Lucy Gray. He didn't even consciously realize time was passing while he was there.

"No, Coryo, you can't go. Y/N can handle it." Tigris says, trying to calm him.

"Sejanus, are you going?" He asks, ignoring his cousin completely.

Sejanus looks down, shaking his head and twisting his fingers out of nervousness. "No, uh, Marcus escaped. He's gone."

Coriolanus was disappointed- he was hoping he would be able to hitch a ride with him. He'll have to run- though it isn't too far.

"Okay, well, I'm going." He insists, grabbing a pile of clean clothes that Tigris had brought for him the day previous.

Tigris gives up on trying to stop him, and Sejanus hasn't really attempted to. He knows that you would be happy to see him if he is feeling well enough to go. Watching you in class, constantly jittery and even a little pale, made it evident that you needed Coriolanus, or you were worried, at the very least.

Thankful for the morphing he still had in his bloodstream, he makes it to the studio in time for Lucy Gray's interview, even with a few minutes to spare. As soon as he sees you, he can tell that you've been struggling. The bags under your eyes couldn't be hidden by makeup, nor could your healing bruises from the bombing that were now turning a shade of green that would typically make him ill. Scattered as well among them were some darker ones, purple ones, around your elbow and on your wrist. Regardless, you're smiling- talking in a hushed tone to Lucy Gray.

You're opening your brother's guitar case, carefully lifting it out of the velvet that surrounded it when you see Coryo walking toward you, and you're immediately abandoning your effort to stand up and greet him. "Coryo? What are you doing here?" You ask, excitement fading into worry.

"I wouldn't miss it." He smiles politely, adjusting his cuffs.

You sigh, finding the effort to match his smile. "You made it." Lucy Gray grins at him, brushing over her face with a cloth you offered her, a small effort to clean up the dirt and grime that clung to her skin in the zoo.

"Well, I got her a guitar. It's my brothers." You quickly move on, already feeling comforted by his presence alone. You grab it, holding it out to him as Lucy digs into the makeup that you had brought for her to borrow, hoping to add some life back into her face.

He takes it, looking over the polished wood and the brand-new strings. "Thank you. And it's tuned? Working order?"

"Tip top shape." You promise with a nod. "I had it professionally looked over this morning."

"You're a dream." Coryo praises you, making you blush. "Thank you, Y/N. Truly."

"It's my job."

Lucy Gray did amazing in her performance- and everyone loved it. She received the most donations by a long shot, which will allow Coriolanus to help her in the arena. As much as he can without changing her abilities to defend herself or fight, anyway.

You had made it home shortly after, returning your brother's guitar and having a shower before practically crawling into bed. Finally, you feel like you may be able to get a good night's sleep. Coryo is home, and even though you have an early morning, you'll be able to relax enough to rest.

That is, until you hear something snapping against the window next to your bed. You try and ignore it, covering your ears with your pillow, but the tapping persists.

You flick on your lamp and hesitantly pull back the curtain, peeking out to track the source of the noise. It was only a moment before your eyes landed on Coryo, who waves when he can see you in the window. You rub your eyes, squinting from the light and sliding the window open.

"Coryo?" You ask, confused as to why he's here.

"Come down, bring your notebook." He whispers loud enough for you to hear, but his voice is still soft enough to not wake anyone else in your house. "And a coat, it's quite cold."

You sigh. "Okay. Give me two minutes." Apparently, rest isn't a part of your evening plans.

You follow alongside him all the way to the arena, already set up to host the Hunger Games in the morning.

"Woah..." You gasp, walking into the same clearing you had just days before, but now it looked like a whole new place. "Okay. This we can work with." You smile a little to yourself, not noticing Coryo training his eyes on you.

He watches as you walk ahead of him, immediately toward the center of the large room as you scribble in your notebook. You wanted to get down as many details as possible, every new pile of debris or hole that could offer a place of refuge for Lucy Gray. Coriolanus wants to focus on the task at hand, but this is the first time he's been around you without the prying eyes of classmates or adults in a long time. You were never alone, he almost always was outside of school.

Walking up next to you, the light from the moon hits your hair and the side of your face as you look around, hardly glancing at the book in your hand. "Are you..." He starts, being reminded of what he noticed on the walk over but wouldn't dare to mention.

"Hm?" You prompt him to continue, drawing your attention to the boy in front of you now and lifting your pen to your mouth, biting onto it while you shake out a cramp in your wrist.

"Are you wearing makeup?" He asks, leaning in slightly to get a closer look.

"Excuse me?" You laugh awkwardly after grabbing the pen once more, taking a small step back. "Certainly your grandmother taught you its unbecoming to ask a lady such a question."

He chuckles slightly, looking away from you. "Bold of you to assume I consider you a lady." He jokes.

You gasp in mock offense, playfully smacking his arm. "How dare you!" You can't help but laugh. Now you remember why you were friends. Or why you considered him a friend, and why he believed that he was merely tolerating you. In reality, he didn't have to bring you. He could have come on his own, but why should he when you would be willing to accompany him? You're known for your attitude, your brashness, and he admired your unwavering ambition- whatever you wanted you would get. Not just because of your family name, either. You were willing to work for it, to fight for it.

Coriolanus was walking a fine line between desiring your presence and his own indifference. Now, surpassing a mere tolerance of you, this change scared him. "I know what you look like, you know. It's the middle of the night, there was no use wasting our time with putting on makeup." He says, not wanting to let on his own intrigue on the topic.

"I would argue that you don't, not since we were fourteen, anyway." You reply, dipping your head to get back to your sketching. "It's more of a force of habit."

His closeness allows him to grab your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently but firmly lifting your head back up to get a better look at you. Your eyes widen, your heartbeat increasing with a mix of fear and embarrassment.

His eyes bore into you, into every part of your face as if your skin would somehow tell him the full story. You can't bring yourself to speak, just waiting for him to find the answers he wanted.

"Is it your father?" He asks, looking into your eyes now, his grip loosening on your chin.

You take a quick step back. You were aware that he knew something, he was the only one who tended to stare too long at your skin wherever it was exposed ever since you were thirteen and he asked what happened when you came to school with a bruise on your cheek. Notably more so after your essay last year that rewarded you with only a B.

"I won't tell anyone." He says, and your own voice echoes in your mind after telling him the same thing just the other day at your house. "I would have by now if I was going to."

"Why do you care?" You bite back, defensiveness being your go to weapon in a war of self-preservation.

He wants to spit at you that he doesn't, but that's a lie he couldn't even dream of in this moment. You'd storm out, probably never talk to him again, and that idea hurt him. "I want to help you."

"Well, not much anyone can do now is there?" You reply, attempting to move on. "Let's look around." You try and change the subject, give yourself an outlet to walk away, but this doesn't work as Coryo is grabbing your wrist, stopping you from taking another step.

"You can help by ignoring it." You sigh, his blue eyes just staring as he scrambled to find the right thing to say. "By not treating me like I'm going to break at every turn. How does that sound?"

He opens his mouth to speak but he doesn't, slightly shaking his head. He wants to release his grip on your wrist, tense and tight with urgency, but how could he without giving you the idea he thinks he's hurting you? He slides his hand into yours, holding his breath. "I apologize. It's not what I intended."

Now it's your turn to be speechless, staring down at your hands locked together.

"I just wanted to keep you safe." He explains, dancing around the idea even in his own mind that maybe he cares for you more than he should. "After Arachne, and after Clemensia, and now the Ring twins and Felix still fighting in that hospital bed it's so obvious to me that we are far from safe in this. We always were."

Your brow furrows. "What happened to Clem?"

"Dr. Gaul..." He takes in a deep breath. "One of her experiments, Clemensia has been in the hospital for days and she has these scales growing all over her and I thought I watched her die and then you almost died and-"

"Hey, hey, woah-" You cut him off, stepping closer again and not daring to drop his hand as he begins to crumble in front of you. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

He just nods, attempting to swallow back the fear in his voice.

"Okay. So, we've made it this far. You'll get that prize, we'll move on. Next year it will be someone else's problem. You will be safe." You say, squeezing his hand gently. "We're almost done, just a few more days."

His mouth is dry, and despite his heart racing, he knows you are right. After tonight, you won't be face-to-face with the tributes again. Neither of you will be in harm's way anymore, at least, not due to the games. Life will return to normal for you, and he will claim the prize he is owed and his life will change for the better. You won't be bringing him food every day, and you won't both be stressing over how to best prepare Lucy Gray. The tightness in his chest returns as his thoughts devolve- will he miss you?

It catches you off guard when he pulls you into a hug. Tight, panicked, heavy under the weight of all the tragedy and grief the two of you walk around with day to day. There is no one who gets him quite like you do. This time, he rests his chin on your head as your arms wrap around his waist, hands overlapping on his back. No, it's not enough. He tilts his head down so he can feel the warmth of you on his cheek, holding you tight as he takes in the scent of your hair. It's not roses, not like his mother's powder or what's left of her clothes in the Snow apartment, it's fresh. The smell of whatever soap you use doesn't demand to be noticed and inhaled, it's mostly full of you. Raspberries. That's it- it's raspberries mixed with you.

"We're almost done..." You whisper again, gently rubbing his back now in reassurance. He wonders, could you not feel the weight of everything? Of both of your entire lives barreling toward you all at once? Of course not. You were Y/N Y/L/N, you could only feel the pain of others; altruism drips out of every ounce of your being despite your habit of lashing out. Of course, you couldn't see it. You only saw him right now. Not his fear of losing you.

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[russos-ventitre]

alessia russo x reader | lezioni di italiano I 🧸

✘ summary: jonas buys yet another midfielder after signing cooney-cross who apparently catches a certain blonde's eye

✘ warnings/tags: bit of swearing, bit of flirting, alessia is a gay mess, reader is mid-20s, AWFC!reader, arsenal!reader (previously InterMilan), ItalyWNT!reader

✘ words: 2234

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎→ part i ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎→ part ii

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎→ part iii

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎→ part iv

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎→ part v

a/n: translations provided as always!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ uno

It was your first day at Arsenal, having been transferred from Inter Milan and finding a new home in North London. It was your first time in England, not including the Euros, but that didn't scare you, you enjoyed adventures and stepping out of your comfort zone so when you got the call that Jonas was interested in you, you grabbed that opportunity with both hands and never looked back.

Unbeknownst to you, you were the topic of the day. Everyone's eyes were on you, not because you weren't from here but because Jonas finally had some sense knocked into him now that he was buying more midfielders. First Cooney-Cross, now you, so in some aspects both of you were on everyone's radars. Regardless, everyone staring at you and whispering about you didn't phase you, you just continued to do what you were here for, football. Even if it did mean you were a bit isolated at first, you were fine being in your own company, that's how it's been for years.

After training you made your way to the locker room, taking a quick shower and changing into fresh clothes. You hadn't noticed but you had an audience. Two blondes to be exact, both leaning up against the wall, watching in awe as you cleaned yourself up.

"Do you think she's single?" Leah whispered to Alessia, noticing how the younger girl was sending you heart eyes and her asking would only further wind her up.

"Oi!" Alessia elbowed her. "No flirting with the new kid-"

"Ti sento.." [I can hear you..] You muttered, looking over your shoulder at the two blondes staring back at you.

Alessia's face immediately went red, she turned on her heels trying to flee the scene before it became more awkward, only to feel Leah's hand grip the back of her collar and pull her back.

"Pardon?" The older blonde stood up from the wall, quirking a brow.

"I said, I can hear you.." You turned your face more towards them. "..you're talking about me."

"Yeah.. uhh.. we were just wondering if you were free this afternoon.." She nudged the younger girl, hoping she would join in on the lie.

"Y-Yeah.. maybe show you around the town.." Alessia continued, fidgeting with her hands.

"No sorry, I'm busy I'm afraid." You replied, folding up your clothes and packing them in your kit bag. "I've only just moved here.. so I'm still unpacking stuff in my flat. Spiacente, ragazze." [Sorry, girls.] You finished, shaking your head.

"M-Maybe.. another night..?" Alessia offered, feeling a bit braver.

You laughed lightly. "Yeah.. maybe.. I'll see you girls tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah, tomorrow at 7." Leah answered, giving you a soft smile as you walked towards the exit.

"Ciao, ci vediamo domani!" [Bye, see you tomorrow!]

You sprinted out of the building leaving the two blondes to themselves.

"Less.." Leah nudged the younger girl. "..Less you can stop staring now.."

"Huh? Wha- I wasn't staring.."

Leah grabbed the blonde's face, closing her jaw with her hand. "Tell that to your face."

"I wasn't staring!" She grumbled.

"Less you were literally watching her as she got changed.." The older woman ruffled Alessia's hair, causing her to groan, and shoot her a dirty look.

The Next Day..

Training was the same as the previous days, running drills, partner work, and spending some time in the gym. It was only your second day at camp but you were slowly becoming used to where things were, even if you did take a few wrong turns.

"Hey.." You heard a familiar voice call from behind.

"Hmm?" You turned around, seeing the same blonde from yesterday, this time by herself.

"Oh hey.. uhhh.." Searching for her name, you looked up at her sheepishly, embarrassed you had already forgotten.

"Alessia.. Less is fine.." She responded.

"N-No, I like Alessia.. it's pretty, one of my favourites actually." You replied quietly, looking down at your kit bag.

"Really?" The blonde sighed.

"Yeah.. it's quite popular back home." You looked back up at her, seeing that her cheeks were flush.

"S-Scusa.. I'm [y/n] by the way.." [S-Sorry..] Having realised you never properly introduced yourself you reached your hand out to meet hers, shaking it gently. You awkwardly smiled back at her, realising that your strong front was suddenly cracking very easily in front of a blonde woman you've only met less than 48 hours ago.

"Nice to meet you [y/n].. could I maybe show you around sometime..? No pressure or anything.. I know you're busy with unpacking-"

"I'd like that." You answered before she could go off on a tangent.

"Great, maybe this weekend?"

"Sounds good." You smiled, making your way for the exit.

"Oh!" Alessia grabbed your wrist before you could make your escape. "I never got your number."

You turned around to see the blonde handing her phone over to you, watching as you put your name and number in, and handing it back over.

"Ci vediamo domani, stella." [See you tomorrow, star.] You gave her a soft smile before walking down the hallway to the parking lot.

When you realised you were no longer in her eye line, you cringed at your awkwardness of that exchange.

"Cazzo! Ma che promblema hai? Perché ti comporti così?" [Fuck! What is wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?]

You rushed out of the building, entering your car and driving off to your flat, replaying the entire interaction in your head the entire drive home. It even kept you up at night, just barely scraping by on 4 hours of sleep the next day.

The Weekend Arrives..

alessia ⭐️ [11:39]: hey

alessia ⭐️ [11:39]: we're still meeting up today, yea? x

[y/n] 🦋 [11:42]: hey

[y/n] 🦋 [11:42]: yea ill be there :)))

You arrived at the place Alessia sent you to, a local coffee shop not too far from camp. She spotted you instantly, which wasn't hard since you walked around like you were clueless, which to be fair, you were in an unfamiliar country.

"[y/n]! Hey!" The blonde shouted, waving her hand so you'd find her.

You raised your arm back, waving lightly. "Ciao, stella!" [Hi, star!]

Alessia guided the two of you out of the coffee shop, showing you the surrounding buildings to visit. It was a nice section of North London, lots to do and lots to see and you were happy that she was your guide otherwise you'd probably be clueless.

"-and just over there is where me and a lot of the other girls get our hair and nails done." The blonde pointed out a two-story building with an awning just above the doorway.

"How often do you girls go?" You asked curiously, never really dedicating any time to pamper yourself before.

"Nails.. every few weeks.. hair.. once a month..? Depends."

The both of you continued your little journey around the town, allowing yourself to finally familiarise with your surroundings. The blonde's little tour ending back at the same coffee shop, this time you two actually ordering something. You both grabbed your drinks and sat down at a table.

"I was wondering.." The striker started, her fingers fidgeting with the rim of her cup, her eyes looking down at the woodwork. "..if maybe you could give me lessons?"

"Lessons?" You sipped your drink confused. "Alessia.. you're way better a football than I am, I don't think you need my-"

"N-No.. like Italian lessons.." She muttered to herself, her shoulders tensing.

"Oh." You raised your brows, now understanding what she meant. "I mean we can start tomorrow if you'd like." You offered.

"No no, you're probably really busy with unpacking.. it was a stupid ask." She shook her head, embarrassed.

"Alessia, sono serio. Come over mine tomorrow and I'll teach you." [I'm serious.] The words came out of your mouth before you could actually process what you were saying. Any other time someone asked for a favour like this you would've denied them swiftly, liking time to yourself and being alone. You're still not sure what possessed you to agree to a tour of the town with Alessia so the fact that you agreed to Italian lessons was just another added shock. Maybe you were softening, maybe you were suddenly realising that there were so many other opportunities out there when you open yourself up to things. Maybe you felt something for the- no.. no, don't be stupid, you've only just met..

The Following Day..

You heard a knock on your door, just minutes after you finished making coffee. 'Finally', you thought, walking over to the door, mug in hand as you answered it.

"Alessia! Che bella!" [How beautiful!] You smiled, greeting the somewhat anxious-looking blonde.

"H-Hi." She gave you a small wave as she clutched her MacBook and notebook to her chest.

You moved aside so she could enter your flat, guiding her to a dimly lit table near your kitchen. "Caffè?" [Coffee?]

"Please." She sat herself down at the table, trying to make herself comfortable.

You padded back into the kitchen pouring her a cup. "Latte o zucchero?" [Milk or sugar?] You asked, your head peering around the cupboard, waiting for a response.

The blonde looked back at you, slightly grasping what you were saying but not fully. "U-Uh.. milk..? Please.."

You walked back over to her after you prepared her drink, handing it to her and sitting across from her.

"Cheers.." She mumbled, taking a small sip before she tucked her trembling hands under her thighs, her shoulders tense as ever.

"So.. what is it that you want to learn?" You asked, hoping the question wasn't too broad.

"Uh.. well.. I love my culture a great deal and would give anything to be able to speak the language.. I just barely have the time since I play for England and now I'm at Arsenal.. but it would be a dream if I was fluent.."

You took a sip of your drink, waiting in case she had more to add.

"Well, we can start off with basics and work from there if you'd like."

"Yeah.. that'd be great." She smiled shyly.

"I think we should take a break." You stated, just having witnessed Alessia scribble down a bunch of notes as you taught her basic phrases and words and slipped in a bit of slang.

"No! I want to keep going.. I'm really enjoying this.." The striker admitted, not ready to call it quits only 2 and a half hours in.

You shook your head, grabbing both your mugs and taking them into the kitchen to clean them. You returned and saw that Alessia had her head buried in her notes, mouthing to herself the pronunciation and trying to retain their meanings. You quietly walked up behind her, nosying at her notes, noticing that her handwriting was gorgeous and everything was so neatly organised.

"Uh.. I think you misspelled 'ventitre'.." [twenty-three] You delicately pointed out, your arm coming to reach past her shoulder and point at her notes.

"Hmm? Oh! S-Sorry.. I got a bit carried away.."

"Do you want to learn numbers?"

"No- I mean.. I just wanted to know that one.. for now." She looked up at you, smiling awkwardly as she fidgeted with her pencil.

The blonde pursed her lips, her eyes meeting yours. "Could you maybe teach me football phrases?"

"Sì." [Yeah.] You replied, taking a seat next to her.

"-so in the Euros.. against Sweden.." Alessia nodded as you spoke.

"..your backheel, that's 'colpo di tacco'."

"Wait.. you watched our game?"

"Yeah.. I was in the crowd.. we got knocked out by Belgium in the group stages.. not our best performance." You pinched the bridge of your nose, embarrassed at your team's performance.

"It was a great goal that, the colpo di tacco." She stated proudly.

"Alright Russo.. calm down." You replied with a laugh, giving her a light shove. The blonde blushing slightly at the way you pronounced her name in your thick Italian accent.

The blonde began to pack her things away, clutching them to her chest just like she had done when she arrived, instead, a lot less tense than when she first got there.

"Same time tomorrow?" You asked, holding the door open for her.

"Yeah.. I'd like that." She smiled.

By habit you leaned close to her, giving her a hug and pressing a kiss to each of her cheeks, only realising what you had done when you pulled away.

"Merda! Sorry.. force of habit!" [Shit!] You uncomfortably rubbed the back of your neck, looking at the floor.

"..I now realise that's a European thing huh?" You continued to stare at the floor, not wanting to look her in the eyes.

Her hand came to rest on your shoulder, gaining your attention. "It's okay [y/n].. really." She gave you a polite smile, her cheeks a bit rosy.

"Ci vediamo domani?" [See you tomorrow?] The striker questioned, hoping she said it right.

"Sì! Domani!" [Yeah! Tomorrow!] You answered, with a bit more excitement in your tone then you would've hoped for.

"Ciao, [y/n]." [Bye.] She waved, walking over to her car.

"Ciao, stella!" [Bye, star!]

You shut the door when you knew she was safe, your back sliding down it until you were sat on the floor, head buried in your hands. It was going to be a long season.

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#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #england women #woso x reader #engwnt x reader #woso fanfics #woso #woso community #woso imagine #woso imagines #alessia russo imagine #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #awfc #awfc x reader

[krashoutluv]

Imagine if, to save on the water bill/ they're just tired/etc, Jason (AK or comic really) and his S/o take an innocent shower together for the first time, yet the entire time Jason's trying his hardest to stay respectful and not stare, but at the same time wants to admire his S/o because he just loves how much they look. And possibly gets the shampoo in his eyes while distracted.

bear with me as ive been sick since wednesday and ive been writing this throughout my sick days. #fighting4mylife

Showering with Ak!Jason (SFW FIC)

ig their naked but its not ak!jay being horny just like in love so maybe nsfw nothing sexual happens mostly indirect tension soo??😭😭 ((tw: writing might suck))

JASON came home a little early from a bar. He went there for information on Penguins weapon deals. Jason would say something like, ‘it got a little messy,’ but a little messy to Jason was being covered in mud, blood, and clothes drenched from the rain that started on his way back. It was around 12 AM when he came back way earlier then his usual so you were hoping in the shower getting ready to go to sleep, not expecting him. You two saw each other just as you were walking into the bathroom.

“You look like shit—“ You turned your head into the bathroom so he couldn’t see your face; trying to bite back a cackle because of the words that slipped from your mouth,, “—I mean you can go first.” you looked back over at him,

“Well aren’t you the sweetest thing.“ He started taking off his gloves. “Go ahead.” He huffed.

“No seriously its fine, ill grab you a towel-“

“— The more you talk the longer it takes for the both of us.” He sighed, pulling off his jacket and folding it in a neat little square.

“Right, sorry.” You turn into the bathroom and pause. It was pretty obvious he was tired and wanted to get comfier then his muddied clothes let him; Thats when the thought hit you. “Unless.” You felt your face burn. You weren’t sure if Jason be comfortable with it, but it wasn’t sexual and it’d save you money from your water bill.

“Unless?” Jason questioned flatly, his back was turned to you and he was taking off his bloodied boots.

You slowly turned towards him, “You’d like to.. join me.” you had tried to sound as casual as possible. He paused completely, only getting half of his boot off before freezing. He looked back at you, like he wasn’t sure if he heard you properly. “LIKE—“ You raised your voice a little too loud on accident,”—Like, not like, you know. THAT. But like.” he took off his boot and started walking over to you as you rambled about how you didn’t mean it sexually it’d just be easier n’ y’know obviously he didn’t have to— You didn’t even notice the brick wall of a man making its way over to you until Jason stood in front of you.

”Yeah. Sure.” He replied flatly, your eyes meet his face, he was staring at your face completely stone cold. Maybe if you didn’t turn around to move to the door handle, maybe, just maybe you would’ve seen how his cheeks and ears were lightly dusted with red. But you didn’t.

You awkwardly shuffled to the side to let him in, closing the door behind you two. Back facing each other as you two undressed, you weren’t wearing a full outfit so you took everything off faster then him, yikes, awkward. You didnt wanna just stand there so you slipped past him with your head down at the floor to get the shower water running. Running your hand through the burning water just to push away the sound of him unbuckling his belt in the deepest part of your mind. “Uh, first-aid under the, uhm, fuckin- sink.” You stammered, still facing the shower waiting for the water to now cool down.

“You can get in first, i’ll patch myself up.” You did a little thumbs up behind your back, as if he saw, and made your way in, closing the curtain behind you. But he was totally lying. He should’ve patched himself up after you two had gotten out so he didn’t worry about anything washing into his cleaned wounds. But he needed to buy himself time to calm his nerves. You were so fuckin’ pretty, your skin brushed his as you passed him earlier and—its crazy how the Red Hood is single-handedly fighting for his life more now then when he was dealing with twelve grown men earlier.

After taking a purposeful three minutes longer then his usual, he stands up. He almost backs out as soon as he reaches for the shower curtains, he inhales then exhales, brushing his finger tips against the thin veil of cloth that just separates you two. “I’m, uh,-“ his voice cracks “-comin in now..”

“Hold on,” You quickly stepped out of the water stream, and leaned onto the back wall of the shower. “Alright, front of the shower where like, the, uh- water is, is all yours.” Jason cleared his voice just before he stepped in, being sure to keep his back turned to you. He let the water run over his marred skin, trying to ignore every scar on his back burning. After letting the water wash off the pieces of dirt that it could, or him finally succumbing to the sensation of getting the soap to scrub at his mangled flesh;

Jason turned his head to grab the soap— FUCK, he whipped his head back around into the showers stream. Scrubbing his face to try to wash the burning image of you out of his mind. The mixture of water and light highlighting your skin like an portrait. You’re staring down towards your feet playing with the water droplets on your crossed arms- fuck he needed to stop thinking about it. Jason pulled his head out of the water, croaking out ”Soap.” Yes, yes, wise words I know.

The next thing he knew, right by his shoulder was your hand holding out the soap. “Here, hope I’m holding it in the right spot.” You softly chuckled to yourself. He turned enough to see you covering your eyes with your other hand out of his peripheral vision. God he needed to stop looking. He took it from you and skimmed his face against the water before he grunted out a thanks.

He was questioning himself as he washed his blemished skin. He wasn’t a creep, he wasn’t staring at you because it was sexual. So what was he doing? What was this feeling? Why did he want to look at you anyways? Why did it remind him of the way he looks at marble statues? Was it because of the way your fingers dented your arms skin while you glide water droplets along your skin? Was it the way your head slightly tilted? Was it the was your body was effortlessly posed? Like you knew, like you were ready for every detail of your body was going to be eternalized into marble? Was it because of the urge to trace every part of your skin? Maybe to just get a feeling of what your sculptor felt? Was he being a fuckin creep?

He wasn’t sure, something he suddenly did become sure of was the fact you were probably cold as shit and he needed to hurry the fuck up.

guys idk how to feel abt this fic tbh

rq / inbox is closed

sorry i got like 12 i needa get done

#arkham knight x gn!reader #arkham knight x reader #jason todd x gn!reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x gn!reader #red hood x reader #arkham knight x reader #skullkidwithsunglasses #krash responds to u

[merakiui]

MERA IVE BEEN HAVING THIS THOUGHT AND I THINK YOURE THE RIGHT PERSON TO SHARE IT WITH BC ITS SO PERFECT FOR THE TWEELS 😭

A long time ago, back when i was a teenager and still a wattpad girly, I read this one really good story called "Family Comes First" about a family of cannibals that lives in the middle of nowhere. They only keep boy children who are born, no daughters. Whenever a boy turns a certain age (I think 21 but I cant really rmbr), the father goes out to the nearest city, interviews girls under the guise of offering them a job, and kidnaps the best one as a birthday gift and bride. The mother-in-law teaches the new girl how to be a good wife (cleaning, cooking that strange meat, etc.), and the husband is otherwise responsible for his wife, to the point of selecting and laying out her clothing every morning. The ultimate honour is to birth a son, and so the husbands are CONSTANTLY trying to get their wives knocked up. I can't help but imagine Jade and Floyd in a story like this, it suits them perfectlyyyyy

In the book, one of the boys ended up catching feelings for brother's wife (the main character) instead of his own, and it causes fights serious drama in the family. This works so well with the recent ideas about Jade stealing Floyd's cute little wifey except it would be even better for them because they're twins and Jade can pull all his nasty tricks 😭 maybe when she finally gets knocked up with a son, they won't know who it belongs to, because he looks just like his daddy, but the potential daddies look the sammmeee OTZ

Oh oh oh and imagine if reader tries to escape and the family decides to let her try. Let her have fun. Hell, they even join in on the fun. She was blindfolded when they brought her and she's never been out of the house before, so she doesn't know her way around the woods, whereas the men in this family have been hunting humans for sport and food in these woods for generations. Now she's lost in the dark forest with daddy leech and the tweels rapidly closing in on her. She's going to be taught a lesson after they drag her home. After all, she lost the game, and losers never get rewards >_<

OHHH!!! Omg that concept is perfect for the tweels!!!! And they would absolutely draw out the chase in the forest just to scare you even more. Maybe then, after spending an entire day and night being hunted like a wild animal, you'll learn your home is with them. There's no point in running from your family, after all.

Hehe running from the three of them and you injure yourself, so now you're even more panicked because what if they can smell the cut on your leg? What if they can hear your pained grunts as you drag yourself along, limping through the forest? >_< omg and it doesn't matter who finds you; it's going to be frightening either way. Floyd who drags you out of your hiding place by the ankles, or Jade who stands over you as he patiently waits for you to take notice of him. Or Papa Leech wrapping you up in big, strong, scarred arms to carry you back to the house. Maybe you're kicking and screaming all the way, and it's useless to struggle because there's no one else out here for stretches. Just you and your family, who care so very much for you. You should be grateful! Mr. Leech's sons fight over you to be named your husband. Aren't you lucky to have the two of them? Most of all, aren't you lucky you're alive and not on their murderous menu?

AAAAAA and Papa Leech picks your clothes for you going forwards! They were far too patient and lenient with you before, far too forgiving. Now you're living under a new schedule, a fresh set of rules. Your clothes are selected for you, and your meals are prepared in advance (gone are the days in which you were given choices; each meal is healthy and has properties meant to boost your fertility). When you aren't learning to be the perfect housewife, you're getting bent over every possible surface and bred by the twins. Or if the twins can't behave, then maybe Papa Leech ought to knock you up instead........... thinking thoughts.

In conclusion, the entire family is crazy and you're stuck with them forever. orz

#twisted chit chat

[ghosttotheparty]

come crawling faster

read on AO3

Eddie’s rings are clean of blood when he wakes up.

It doesn’t occur to him until later, as he’s laying in bed trying to sleep, that someone must have cleaned the for him, and the thought twirls the air around him like a tornado. He inspects them in the moonlight, and there isn’t a speck of blood or dirt even in the deepest crevices of them. He smiles at the ceiling in the dark.

Everyone is happy that he’s okay. They all hug him gently, careful and mindful of the stitches holding him together, of the IV in his arm, of the way his head aches like he’s hungover. All their voices are low and their hands gentle, and Robin and Nancy bring clothes for him to wear that aren’t cold hospital gowns. Dustin cries, and Eddie thinks that for a few minutes while Eddie holds him, he’s turned back into the little boy he was before he was shoved into the whole mess of the Upside Down.

They all update him on everything that’s happened since he’s been out. Max is okay, with healing arms and glasses almost thicker than the bottoms of Coke bottles. Erica and Lucas are okay. Dustin’s leg is healing, but he’ll have to use a cane. Mike is back from Lenora, with a girl named Eleven and Will and Jonathan, and some guy named Argyle.

He sees all their smiles.

Except Steve.

Steve doesn’t smile. Not once.

He stands in the corner and watches everyone talking, his arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the wall like a broody movie villain, and a few times when Eddie looks in his direction, he’s already looking back. Frowning. Or he’s looking at the ground like he’s bored, like he doesn’t want to be here at all.

And every time it makes Eddie’s chest tighten, so he squares his shoulders and widens his smile and looks away, back to whoever is talking. He’s actually struggling to follow along as their voices overlap, and he thinks maybe he’s just tired, because when Robin speaks, he looks toward Eleven for a moment, and he accidentally calls Dustin Lucas’s name.

They all say goodbye when they leave. The kids all hug him gently again, along with Robin and Nancy. Argyle and Jonathan smile.

Steve doesn’t say goodbye.

Eddie tries not to let it get under his skin, but it gnaws away at him like teeth as he stares up at the ceiling. How easily Steve left, like he doesn’t even know Eddie. How he was almost glaring at Eddie the whole time. How he didn’t even seem slightly happy that Eddie was alive.

He only sees Steve a few times while he’s in the hospital, because Steve drives the kids to visit. If it were up to Steve, Eddie doesn’t think he’d even show up. It’s still under Eddie’s skin.

Days go by.

The government pulls some strings. Eddie’s murder charges are dropped. He’s released from the hospital but only with a security guard that’s armed with a gun just in case. Eddie goes home to Wayne.

Home is different now. An apartment in town, small and a little run-down, but it has two bedrooms and more hot water than the trailer. And there aren’t any bloodstains on the ceiling.

Eddie helps Wayne put up his mugs around the kitchen, and his hats in the living room. Wayne chides him gently. You’re gonna pull your stitches, Eds, I got it. But Eddie’s tired of doing nothing, of laying in bed and staring at the ceiling, trying to think up new campaign ideas only to be distracted wondering what’s going on with Steve. So he keeps helping. And he cleans, and decorates his own room with posters and photos and banners that someone packed while he was in his coma.

He has to go back to the hospital several times, accompanied by Wayne. To remove the stitches on his cheek, then the stitches on his arms and legs, then the stitches on his sides and chest. Eddie hates getting stitches removed.

He’s covered in scars, all pink and disfigured, tender and sensitive. The scars on his sides are almost indented, his skin no longer smooth and soft. The one on his cheek is jagged. He avoids looking in mirrors. He wears long sleeve shirts, even though the weather is getting warmer.

He doesn’t go back to school even though he has the option to. He doesn’t want to be looked at. And he doesn’t really care anymore. There are bigger things to worry about than fucking Ms O’Donnell’s class. (Like what’s going on with Steve.)

Wayne goes back to work. The kids go back to school. The town seems to get used to Eddie. He still gets glares from people, and he looks back. He doesn’t hide the scar on his face or the one around his neck. They leave him alone.

The living room of the apartment becomes their new D&D place. Steve drives the kids over and picks them up. He doesn’t come upstairs. None of the kids say anything about. And this thing between Steve and Eddie becomes a quiet, unspoken thing that no one even glances at. It’s not the unspoken thing Eddie had hoped for when he opened his eyes in the hospital, blinded by the sun on the white walls and another chance at life. It’s the opposite of what he’d hoped for.

A month goes by.

Mike and Eleven break up, and that weird tension that was always present around them disappears. (Eddie always thought Mike talked about Will more than he talked about El at school anyway.) Nancy and Jonathan break up too. The day after, they both look happier than Eddie’s seen them before.

Eddie has some parts of his life back. He goes over to Gareth’s for band practice, and he decides he prefers how his guitar looks in this dimension, how it shines in the sun. He also decides that life is better when he’s not in high school. He’s going to try to get a job this summer, at a car shop or something. Wherever will hire him.

It’s been three weeks since he and Steve have seen each other. Or, he supposes, since he’s seen Steve. Steve didn’t look at him. It was like Eddie wasn’t there. It made him feel gross in a way he’s never felt, like his skin didn’t fit right, like it was bunched up and twisted, and he wanted to rip it off and set it on fire. And scream. Because he was mad.

Because even if Steve doesn’t feel the same way about him, Eddie thought they were friends. Or at least friendly. Eddie almost died, and Steve hasn’t said a single word to him.

So yeah. Eddie is mad.

But he’s pissed when he sees Steve at the grocery store, and their eyes meet across the stand of fruit they’re both at, and Steve just… looks down. Picks up an apple. Squeezes it.

And walks away.

Eddie is pissed.

More pissed than he’s ever been in his life. His blood feels like it’s boiling in his veins, like he’s being burned alive, and he can’t breathe, and he puts his basket down and leaves the store. (Usually he’d take the time to pay, or put the few items in the basket back. But he thinks that if he tries to do either, he’ll lose his mind.)

He goes to the parking lot. Sits in the driver seat of his van for a few minutes, staring at the gray sky as his hands shake and his knee bounces against the steering wheel, trying to figure out what exactly was in Steve’s eyes when he looked at him. They were awfully blank, but he looked… anxious. His eyes were a little too wide, his jaw a little too firm.

The sky darkens as Eddie stares at it.

He’s still pissed. He’s still shaking.

His keys rattle as he turns the van on, and his breath trembles as he drives, the windshield wipers on as it starts to rain. And then he’s at the Harrington mansion, and he wants to drive off a cliff, because what the fuck is he doing here?

He turns off the van and stares at the house. At all the windows. The downstairs lights are on. Eddie wonders if Steve is scared of the dark too.

It’s almost pouring when Eddie gets to the front doorstep and rings the doorbell before he knocks five times, hard. The door swings open a few moments later, and Steve is beautiful even Eddie’s angry at him.

His brows are furrowed in confusion, but his face relaxes back into that horrible blankness when he realises it’s Eddie.

Eddie stares at him. Steve stares back.

For a while. In silence, except the pouring rain. Eddie’s eyes look back and forth between Steve’s, who holds the door so tightly Eddie thinks he’s going to slam it shut.

And Eddie wants to hear him talk.

And Eddie is stubborn. He’s had great practice being stubborn. So he doesn’t speak, or move, or even breathe too hard even though his hands are still trembling, until Steve finally exhales and steps back.

“Get out of the rain.”

“Oh, he speaks!” Eddie exclaims, and he knows he’s being bitchy, but he doesn’t care. He kicks his shoes off, nudging them into a corner as Steve shuts the door heavily and steps into the kitchen that’s bigger than Eddie’s living room.

“What the fuck?” Eddie bursts as he follows him, watching him lean casually against a counter and cross his arms over his chest. He’s wearing a red sweater that looks criminally good on him, but Eddie doesn’t let it distract him.

“What the fuck,” Steve repeats dryly.

“You wanna fuckin’ tell me why you’ve barely fucking looked at me in the past goddamn month?”

Eddie has a swearing problem. It was the cause of a lot of his detention visits in high school, because he can’t help it. When he gets frustrated or annoyed or angry, his language gets colourful. Usually he regrets the words as he’s saying them, sometimes because he knows he’s gonna wind up in Peterson’s room after the bell rings with a pink slip in hand, and sometimes because the person he’s talking to doesn’t really deserve to be talked to like that. Because he’s not mad or frustrated with them, they just happen to be in the line of fire.

But not Steve.

Steve is the fucking target.

Eddie is already breathing hard as Steve looks away, his tongue sliding over his teeth in his closed mouth, seething.

“Harrington.”

Steve’s eyes snap up him, dark and gleaming like a predator’s. His voice is rough when he speaks.

“Because I’m pissed at you.”

“Well, Christ,” Eddie says loudly. “What a development.” His stomach aches, like he’s sick at the thought of Steve being mad at him. “You wanna tell me why?”

Steve is quiet for a moment before he stands up straight off the counter, uncrossing his arms, staring so hard at Eddie that his nose might start bleeding.

“I told you,” he says evenly, pointing at Eddie with two loose fingers, “not to be a hero.”

“Harrington—“

“And you nodded,” Steve interrupts, his pointing fingers stabbing the air between them. “You agreed, and I believed you.” His voice is loud, but shaking, Eddie wants to cry. He wants to burn his skin. “So I left you with my kid and I came back to find you fucking bleeding out in his arms.”

“What, so you’re mad that I almost died?”

“I’m mad that you went back!” And Eddie wants to die, because Steve is yelling now, but it’s still better than the silence he’s gotten. “I’m mad that you didn’t fucking run!”

Eddie’s eyes are burning, and his lips are pursed in a frown, and Steve’s hand falls.

“Why didn’t you run?” he asks brokenly, and Eddie realises the predatory gleam in his eyes is just tears.

“I ran from Chrissy,” Eddie says as strong to as he can. “I wasn’t gonna run again.”

“Anybody would have run from that, Eddie,” Steve yells. He leans forward in emphasis, and he looks like he’s going to cry. “You weren’t a coward, you were human. You didn’t have to fucking— make up for it.”

Eddie stares, blinking tears back, pursing his lips when his chin quivers.

“I’m pissed at you,” Steve says, leaning against the counter again. He’s breathing hard. His hands are shaking too. “Because you lied to me.”

He takes a deep, unsteady breath.

“And because—“ He chokes, swallowing. “Because you didn’t think that obviously Dustin was gonna follow you back. And I don’t— Jesus, Eddie, I don’t care if you don’t give a shit about your life, it’s not— not fucking fair.” His voice breaks on the last word, and Eddie’s chest feels like it’s been ripped open.

“The fuck’s that mean,” he says quietly. His whole body hurts. He thinks maybe Steve’s hands could make it feel better, but what are the chances Steve is going to touch him gently right now?

“I know you knew what was gonna happen, Eddie,” Steve says, his voice even, lethal.

Eddie’s stomach twists, and his breath catches in his throat, because he didn’t think he’d have to talk about this. He didn’t think anyone knew.

Steve stares at him, his eyes fucking piercing into Eddie, like he’s trying to see his bones.

“And I don’t care if you didn’t care,” Steve says firmly, his eyes shining brightly, his lip quivering. “It’s not— It’s not fair.”

The air feels tight, almost smoke-filled, like there’s a fire they’re both ignoring.

“Your life,” Steve says slowly, loudly, his eyes trained on Eddie like he’s worried he’s going to run, “is not yours to just throw away.”

“So, what, it’s yours?” Eddie snaps like he’s offended.

“Yes,” Steve yells roughly.

And the smoke clears.

Eddie’s eyes are wide, and his hands are shaking, and Steve’s eyes are wide, and his hands are shaking too. He’s breathing hard, his brows furrowed, and his lip quivers as he stammers silently.

“It’s mine,” he says finally, his voice breaking. “And Dustin’s. And Lucas’s, and Mike’s and Wayne’s, and everyone else on this goddamn planet that cares about you.”

And Eddie’s chest feels like it’s hallowing out. Like Steve is carving his flesh and bone away with a knife. His eyes watch a tear fall from Steve’s eye to the floor, landing on the tile.

“What about you?” Eddie asks, still angry.

“The fuck are you talking about?” Steve snaps, his face hard as he almost glares at Eddie, his eyes still glistening. Eddie glares back, his brows furrowed, and he inhales slowly. The room is silent except the rain pounding on the roof, on the glass windows, except his and Steve’s stuttered breathing.

“You’re a fucking hypocrite, Steve,” Eddie says coldly.

Steve looks like Eddie’s slapped him.

“The kids told me about how you threw yourself at a raging psychopath,” Eddie says.

“That was—“

“And how in the same night you threw yourself in front of a pack of demodogs with nothing but a baseball bat.”

“That—“

“Nancy and Jonathan told me about how Nancy forced you leave at gunpoint,” Eddie says, his voice louder, moving closer without even noticing. His voice is shaking. “And you still went back.”

Steve stares. His eyes are wide, and he looks angrier than Eddie’s ever seen him, and even though there’s a pit of fear in Eddie’s stomach, he persists.

“And we all know about how you stayed behind to be interrogated, and tortured and damn near killed by those Russians.” Eddie’s almost yelling now, tears sparking his own eye as he gestures to Steve in anger, in outrage, in pain and love and everything else that’s swirling in his carved out chest like a hurricane.

“Fuck you, Eddie.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie screams, finally breaking. His throat hurts. “You think those people don’t care about you?” he yells, gesturing aimlessly toward the door. “You think we don’t love you?”

He’s panting, almost numb with adrenaline and rage. His vision is blurry, but he doesn’t know if it’s because of the anger or if he’s crying. He ignores it.

“You have no right to lecture me on this when you and I both know you would have done the same thing in a heartbeat.”

And then Steve’s hand is grasping the front of Eddie’s shirt, and the breath is knocked from Eddie’s lungs as his back slams into the wall so hard he thinks it might be dented. He gasps for breath, and Steve’s face is too close to his, and this close he can see specks of green in his eyes, and he can see every tear that’s clinging to his eyelashes. And even when he’s radiating anger, he’s the most beautiful man Eddie’s ever seen.

“You gonna hit me, Stevie?” Eddie says even though he still can’t really breathe. Steve doesn’t say anything. His fist is gripping Eddie’s shirt so tightly it might rip, his knuckles pressing into Eddie’s chest so hard it hurts.

Eddie’s never been good at knowing when to keep his mouth shut.

“You don’t get to be angry at me,” he says quietly, almost breathing the words. “Not when we’re exactly the same.”

Steve’s knuckles press even harder.

His lip is trembling, and Eddie’s eyes flick across his face, at his glassy eyes, and flushed cheeks, and the moles spotting his skin like stars, and he kisses him.

He pulls away just as quickly as he leaned in, his body flooding with heat as he realises what he’s just done, but Steve’s face doesn’t change. Still angry, seething, and the world is on fire, crushed under tidal waves and hurricanes and God’s wrath, and it’s Eddie’s fault. His eyes sting like there are chemicals in them, and he breathes out a soft shit before he tries to shove past Steve to escape before he can die.

Of course he’d survive this long, survive being beaten by a drunk before his bones were done growing, survive being the target of a witch hunt by townspeople with guns, survive being eaten alive by demonic bats, only to die untouched. Because he kissed a boy without thinking.

But Steve’s hand tightens on Eddie’s shirt, and he pushes Eddie back against the wall roughly. Eddie whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut, flinching, and a few seconds pass before something presses to his forehead. He opens his eyes hesitantly.

Steve’s eyes are closed, his forehead on Eddie’s, and his hand releases the fabric of his shirt, his palm pressing, fingers spreading over Eddie’s chest.

Eddie’s eyes burn, and he inhales sharply, trying desperately not to cry. His hands are hanging by his sides, trembling.

Steve pulls away after a moment, and all the anger is gone from his face. His eyes are almost closed, still glassy, and he looks exhausted, like he’s going to fall apart. But his hand is still steady on Eddie, pressed firmly.

“Don’t think I’m not still mad at you,” Steve says so quietly the words almost get lost in the sound of the rain.

“Steve,” Eddie breathes.

Steve leans in and kisses him.

Softly, chastely, just barely catching his lower lip. Eddie can’t tell if his heart is even beating anymore, and his hands raise hesitantly as Steve does it again, slowly slowly slowly moving to touch Steve’s waist. His sweater is soft.

Steve’s other hand lifts and holds Eddie’s cheek so gently he can barely feel it on the mangled, sensitive skin of the ragged scar. And then their breaths are mixing as Steve presses his open mouth Eddie’s, and his tongue is slipping across Eddie’s lip and into his mouth. Eddie leans against the wall, his hands tightening on Steve’s waist, as his knees weaken.

The kiss doesn’t last long, because Steve is crying. Gasping for breath, holding Eddie tighter. Squeezing his eyes shut. Falling against Eddie.

Eddie slides his hands to Steve’s back, holding him close. His throat tightens, and he closes his eyes, suppressing a sob as he feels Steve’s shoulders shake.

“Don’t be mad,” Eddie says weakly, his voice wobbling, too high, too thin. Steve lifts his head, looking at him desperately.

“I can’t not be mad at you, Eddie,” he says. His voice is the same as Eddie’s. There are tears on his cheeks. Eddie wipes them away. “You lied to me,” he chokes. “You lied to me.” His hand curls into a fist that hits Eddie’s chest.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says softly, moving a hand to hold Steve’s fist against himself. Steve falls against him, his face in Eddie’s neck, and Eddie wraps his arms around his neck. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Steve’s arms wrap around Eddie’s waist, pulling him away from the wall, so tight that Eddie gasps, and he sobs loudly, trembling.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, crying, and he slides down the wall, holding Steve to himself tightly, and Steve is wailing into Eddie’s neck, sobbing and shaking and gripping Eddie so hard he’ll probably bruise. Eddie’s back is to the wall, his arms around Steve’s neck, his face buried in his hair. He’s getting it wet with his tears, but it doesn’t really matter. His own hair is still wet from the rain.

Eddie is still apologising. He doesn’t even think Steve can understand him, because his own voice is so broken and tear soaked, and because Steve is sobbing like a child.

I lost you.

“No, you didn’t,” Eddie manages to say, shifting so his mouth is by Steve’s ear. “I’m right here, I’m okay.”

Steve cries into Eddie’s neck. Eddie’s skin is wet with his tears. The collar of his shirt is probably soaked. But he doesn’t care.

Steve’s sobbing turns into that awful hiccuping gasping sort of crying, and Eddie pulls away enough to kiss his forehead and hold his face.

“‘M right here,” he murmurs. There are tears in his own face that ignores.

Steve is leaning against him, his legs sprawled on the kitchen floor, and Eddie tugs him closer, wiping away his tears.

But Steve doesn’t ignore Eddie’s tears. He messily wipes them away before he clutches to Eddie’s face, his other hand grasping Eddie’s forearm tightly. His chest is rising and falling with every quick, gasping breath, and Eddie swallows his own tears as he looks at him, at his rosy, tear-streaked cheeks and running nose and chapped lips, and he wonders how long Steve’s been holding this all back.

“I’m here, Stevie.”

Steve looks at him. His eyes are glassy and exhausted again. Eddie wants him to go to sleep. Preferably in Eddie’s arms.

“Thirteen days, Eddie,” Steve says weakly. His voice rasps, dry and overused, and it sends a knife through Eddie’s heart.

“I know,” he breathes. “��M sorry, Stevie.”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut as his breathing finally slows, reaching to find Eddie’s wrist, and Eddie feels lightheaded when Steve’s fingers press into his pulse.

It’s not until Steve’s breathing is slow that Eddie finally detaches them, helps Steve up, and gets him a glass of water. After Steve gulps it all down, Eddie stretches the sleeve of his shirt over his fingers and steps closer to Steve, touching chin and using his sleeve to wipe his skin, under his nose and eyes and over his cheeks.

Steve’s eyes close, and he sways with the movements until Eddie’s hand pulls at his shoulder, and he falls against Eddie, exhaling heavily.

“‘M sorry,” Steve says softly after a few moments. His hands slide over Eddie’s waist.

“You don’t have to apologise,” Eddie murmurs, because the last thing he wants is Steve feeling like he can’t cry in front of Eddie.

“No, I was mean,” Steve says, almost whining, looking into Eddie’s eyes. He looks like he might start crying again. Eddie touches his cheek. “I was angry, I should have— I should have talked to you, you didn’t deserve that.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie breathes, his voice accompanied by the quiet rumble of thunder outside.

“No, it’s not,” Steve says weakly, his hands gripping Eddie’s shirt. “‘S not okay, Eddie.”

“Okay, fine,” Eddie says, sighing and brushing his thumb over Steve’s cheek softly. “You were an asshole. I forgive you.”

Steve’s eyes close and he falls forward, his forehead pressing to the side of Eddie’s neck, and Eddie threads his fingers through Steve’s hair gently.

“God, I missed you,” he says softly. “How’d I miss you so much?”

Steve’s arms wrap around Eddie’s waist tightly. Eddie brushes through his hair.

“Stay,” Steve says softly, his breath warm in Eddie’s neck. “Don’t want you to go.”

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut. His body aches.

“I won’t go, Stevie.”

Carefully, hesitantly, he shifts and reaches down to Steve’s legs, tugging at his thighs until Steve exhales and nods, moving his arms to wrap around his neck. Eddie picks him up easily, smiling when Steve’s legs wrap around his hips, and Steve clings to him desperately as Eddie moves out of the kitchen, following the hallway until he finds the unreasonably large living room. He slowly lowers Steve to the sofa and then he lowers himself on top of Steve when Steve’s grip on him doesn’t relax.

“I’m sorry,” Steve breathes after a few moments. Eddie shifts to press a kiss to his neck.

“I know. Me too.” He pauses for a moment, then moves so his cheek rests on Steve’s chest. “I meant it, you know.”

“Meant what?”

Eddie hesitates, moving a hand to press to Steve’s chest in front of his face, feeling the soft knit of his sweater.

“We love you.”

Steve’s arms tighten, and Eddie feels his chest rise and fall as he takes a deep breath.

“You know we love you too, right?” Steve says softly. Lightning flashes outside, far away and soft. Eddie closed his eyes, pressing his hand to his chest.

“Kinda unbelievable,” he says quietly. Thunder rumbles.

“‘S true,” Steve says. “Even if you don’t believe it.”

Eddie presses his face into his chest, inhaling. He smells like laundry detergent and cologne, and like something that oddly familiar. Nostalgic. Eddie inhales again.

“Did you visit while I was under?” he asks quietly. Steve sighs.

“Could barely keep me away,” he say softly. “Worst thirteen days of my fucking life.” He takes a breath, sliding a hand to press over Eddie’s on his chest. He’s so warm. “Just held your hand ‘nd waited.”

Eddie laces their fingers, squeezing.

“Left to the bathroom in the hospital to clean your rings,” Steve says, his voice thin. Eddie opens his eyes. “The lights kept flickering, and I didn’t even care, I just… needed to clean them.”

Eddie lifts his head and looks down at him, his throat tight.

“That was you?”

Steve nods, his eyes shining as he looks up at him. His hair has fallen around his head like a halo. His cheeks are still rose, his eyelashes dark with tears like he’s wearing makeup.

“Couldn’t stand the thought of you… waking up with blood on your rings,” he says softly, one of his hands combing through Eddie’s curls that have fallen like curtains. “I don’t know. ‘S kinda dumb in the grand scheme of things.”

Eddie shakes his head, sniffling as his eyes burn.

“It’s not dumb, Stevie,” he says shakily. Steve’s fingers press to his cheek. “Thank you.”

Steve smiles softly, weakly, touching Eddie’s hair, and a tear falls from Eddie’s eye to Steve’s cheek, near his mouth. A soft laugh escapes Steve, and Eddie apologises, smiling, watching Steve blur. He starts to shift to wipe the tear away from Steve’s skin, but Steve beats him to it, wiping the tear with the tip of his middle finger before he brings the finger to his own lips, licking the tear off. Eddie scoffs.

“And they call me the freak.”

Steve smiles. His eyes are shining too.

“Kiss me,” he breathes.

Eddie leans down and kisses him. He can taste the salt of his own tear in his mouth, and he tilts his head to kiss him deeper, groaning softly. Steve’s hands spread over his back, holding him so their bodies press together completely, before they slide to hold his head, his fingers curling into his hair.

The sound of rain outside fades like it’s being muffled as Eddie kisses him, as he listens to the quiet, weak noises escaping Steve’s throat, to the slick slide of their tongues, to their heavy breathing. He presses his fingers into Steve’s neck, feeling his blood rushing, his heart beating beneath his skin. Steve whimpers, and Eddie pulls away to look at him, at his screwed-shut eyes, his furrowed brows.

“Okay?” Eddie whispers.

Steve sniffs, opening his glistening eyes, and he pulls Eddie into a hug desperately, his face in Eddie’s neck as Eddie pushes a hand into his hair, closing his eyes.

“I was so scared,” Steve chokes, holding him tightly. “I thought you were gone.”

“No, I’m right here,” Eddie whispers, tugging his hair, kissing his jaw. “‘M not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

It slips out, but Eddie doesn’t try to take it back. He doesn’t regret it. Especially not when Steve takes a shuddering breath and turns his head enough to kiss Eddie’s temple.

Eddie falls asleep with his face in Steve’s neck, breathing on his skin as he lays in top of him, their legs tangled together. Steve’s hand is holding Eddie’s throat in a way that makes his knees feel weak, his fingertips pressed into his pulse, and Eddie is holding his sweater in loose fists.

“Oh, fucking finally.”

They startle awake simultaneously, gasping and trying to sit up, and Steve fingers tighten around Eddie’s throat before he quickly lets go. Eddie shifts, trying untangle from him, squinting in the bright morning sunlight, his body aching.

“Fucking Christ, Robin, why?” Steve exclaims, his voice rough with sleep, rubbing his face as Eddie leans back, groaning loudly.

“We all thought we’d have to live in your silent treatment for the rest of our lives,” she says dramatically, and Eddie watches her, still squinting, as she moves around the sofa to collapse onto his and Steve’s legs. “So you guys talked?”

“More like screamed and cried,” Steve says, shifting, pulling his legs away to lean against the armrest of the sofa. She sits cross-legged, looking at them. “But yeah.”

Eddie shifts to lean against him, closing his eyes against the light. He’s never been a morning person, and still isn’t today. Especially when he was sleeping so peacefully, on Steve’s warm body. Eddie probably has the knit of his sweater pressed into his cheek like a print.

“Sounds like quite a night.”

Steve’s hand presses into Eddie’s hair as he hums softly, and Eddie exhales, relaxing against him. He could fall asleep again.

“You had quite a night too, didn’t you?” Steve asks, his voice almost suspicious, and Eddie smiles against him, moving closer. He loves how Steve as Robin can read each other’s minds like this. How they can take one glance at each other and just know whatever there is to know. Steve pulls at Eddie’s legs so he’s sitting across his lap, and Eddie tucks his face back into his neck.

“Uh. I mean—”

“Oh, shit,” Steve says. Eddie can hear his smile in his voice. “V?”

“Uhm.”

Eddie lifts his head, brows furrowed in confusion, but Nancy appears in the doorway, carrying a tote bag like a baby. Her eyes find Eddie and Steve cuddled up on the sofa, and she exhales roughly.

“Oh, fucking finally.”

Steve looks sharply at Robin, eyes wide, and her face flushes with colour.

Oh.

“Finally what, Wheeler?” Eddie asks, rests his head on Steve’s shoulder, ignoring Robin and Steve.

“You guys were becoming insufferable. You talked?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank God.” She steps up behind the sofa to look at Robin, whose gaze softens when it lands on her. “You gonna help?”

“Help with what?” Steve questions.

“My mom’s using the kitchen, so we’re making cookies here.”

Steve makes a face.

“Why do you always use my kitchen?”

“Because it’s nice,” Nancy says. “Duh. Robbie, come in.”

“Robbie?” Steve whispers as Nancy leaves, and Robin shoots him a look, scrambling to follow Nancy to the kitchen.

“So,” Steve says when she’s gone. Eddie presses his face into his neck.

“‘S too fuckin’ early.”

Steve laughs softly, running a hand down Eddie’s leg, squeezing his thigh gently. Eddie kisses his neck softly. There’s a clatter in the kitchen, and Robin laughs.

“Hey,” Steve says after a moment, rubbing his leg.

“Mm.” He lifts his head when Steve doesn’t say anything, and he shifts to look at him. “What?” he asks softly.

Steve gazes at him for a moment, holding his leg with one hand as the other touches his cheek and then tucks his hair behind his ear. Eddie moves to straddle his hips, holding his shoulders and looking at him.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you yesterday,” Steve says quietly.

“I yelled at you too.”

Steve scoffs, playing with the ends of Eddie’s hair.

“I yelled at you first.”

Eddie pauses.

“Not… really.”

Steve just laughs lightly, closing his eyes and falling forward so his forehead presses to Eddie’s chest, just under his collarbone.

“Can you let me apologise, please?”

“Ugh, fine.”

Steve lifts his head and presses a chaste kiss to Eddie’s chin. No one’s ever kissed Eddie there.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you yesterday,” Steve says softly. “And I’m sorry for being mean.”

Eddie touches his cheek, almost petting it.

“I won’t yell at you again,” Steve says softly, firmly. “Ever.”

“Ever?”

“Mm.”

“What if I’m being an asshole?”

“Then I will very calmly tell you that you’re being an asshole.”

Eddie giggles softly, hiding his face in Steve’s neck, and Steve wraps his arms around him tightly. Eddie sighs, settling into his arms.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“You don’t have to apologise.”

“Will you— Steve.” Steve laughs softly, tightening his arms. “Come on, man.”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you. Like… as soon as I walked into your house. That wasn’t fair.”

He lifts his head and touches their foreheads together, holding Steve’s face in his hands.

“I won’t yell at you ever again.”

“Not even when I’m being an asshole?”

“No,” Eddie says, laughing softly. “I’ll very calmly tell you you’re being an asshole.”

“Okay,” Steve whispers.

Steve tugs at Eddie’s waist, lifting his chin up wordlessly, and Eddie smiles at him before he presses a soft kiss to his lips.

“Think I’m falling in love with you,” Steve murmurs when they part, his lips brushing Eddie’s.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, holding his cheeks so they squish a little bit. “King Steve falling for the freak. What would your loyal subjects think?”

“Who gives a shit?” Steve breathes, and something shifts inside Eddie.

“Fuck, I think I’m falling in love with you too.”

Steve smiles brightly, his eyes squeezing shut, and Eddie is free-falling off a cliff. He leans in and kisses him.

“How do you take coffee?” Steve asks quietly when they part, breathless.

Eddie kisses him again, sucking on his lower lip, smiling.

“Milk and sugar,” he murmurs against his mouth before kissing him again, holding his cheeks. Steve smiles against his mouth, his hands spreading across his waist before he slides one to the small of his back.

“Let me make you coffee,” Steve says.

Eddie groans softly, pressing his face into Steve’s neck again. He likes it here.

“Wanna go to bed.”

“Come on,” Steve says, laughing quietly, squeezing Eddie’s waist. “The girls are making cookies, maybe we can steal some dough.”

“Isn’t that unhealthy?” Eddie asks dryly.

“Kids eat cookie dough.”

“You’re saying I’m a kid?”

“‘M saying neither of us got to be kids for very long,” Steve says softly, and oh. Eddie kisses his forehead because he can’t kiss his mind. “Let’s go steal some cookie dough.”

“Okay,” Eddie breathes, but he doesn’t move, instead leaning down to kiss him softly, tenderly.

There’s a dash of flour on the top of Robin’s nose when they finally go into the kitchen. She and Steve exchange a look as Steve heads over to find the coffee.

“Why are you making cookies?” Eddie asks, hopping up onto the kitchen island to watch as Robin cracks an egg into the bowl Nancy’s mixing. “Is there a special occasion?”

“The Party’s coming over tonight for a movie night,” Nancy says. Steve turns around.

“What? Why?”

“Because your living room’s huge.”

“You guys keep making plans in my house without even telling me,” Steve mumbles, but Nancy points the whisk at him.

“Our house.”

He makes a face at her.

“Steve, is it cool if I smoke weed in our kitchen?” Eddie asks, and Steve rolls his eyes, but he smiles softly.

“Only if you share.”

“Cool.”

He comes back with two joints and sticks one in Robin’s mouth as she’s cracking another egg, both of them holding still as he lights it for her.

“Thanks, Edster.”

“Ew.”

He sits on the island again, taking a slow drag as he watches Steve make the coffee, find the milk in the fridge and the sugar in a cabinet, watching the way he steps over the tile like he’s about to fall into a dance. He brings a mug over to Eddie when it’s finished and sets it down next to him.

“‘S hot.”

“You know what else is hot?” Eddie says without thinking, and Steve snorts, moving to stand between Eddie’s legs so the insides of his thighs press to his waist.

“What?” Steve asks, looking up at him, smiling easily, sliding his hands over Eddie’s thighs, and Eddie’s cheeks flush even though he’s the one technically flirting.

“…Nothing.”

“Mhmm.” Steve’s eyes are shining gleefully, like he knows exactly how he’s affecting Eddie. He jerks his chin up at the joint. “Gimme a hit.” But he doesn’t move his hands to take it.

So Eddie takes a long drag, taking Steve’s chin in his fingers, and then he leans down, brushing Steve’s lip with his thumb so Steve opens his mouth. His eyes flutter shut as Eddie blows the smoke into his mouth, and Eddie smiles.

He hears Robin giggle as he’s gazing at Steve, watching the smoke drift out of his mouth slowly, and he looks past Steve to find her and Nancy standing together, trying to muffle their laughter in each other’s shoulders.

“Are you guys watching us?” Eddie asks, and Steve blinks his eyes open. Eddie runs a hand through his hair mindlessly.

“We can’t not,” Nancy says as Robin giggles again, taking a drag. “You just… command the space.”

Eddie sticks his tongue out at her. She sticks her tongue out at him. Steve pulls Eddie into a kiss. Robin squeals. Steve flips her off without looking.

Nancy lets them have some cookie dough, but only after Robin rants to them about the dangers of salmonella poisoning. Steve leans against the counter between Eddie legs and holds up the spoon for him while Eddie holds the joint down for him.

Nancy procures a polaroid camera as if by magic. She probably just had it in the tote bag. Eddie is paying a ton of attention to her at the moment. He into notices the camera when there’s a flash of light, and she lowers it to reveal a grin. The photo goes on the fridge.

The weed smell is gone by the time the kids there in the evening, all piled into Argyle’s van, very unsafely but they’re all grinning and giggling when they stumble out. They all let out similar groans when they see Eddie‘s arm around Steve.

Thank God.

Jesus, finally.

Did you finally talk?

Are you guys friends now?

That’s Eleven. Eddie likes Eleven.

“Something like that,” he says to her, and her face lights up.

“Alright, everyone go inside,” Steve says, ignoring them all. His cheeks are pink. “It’s gonna rain again.”

As they’re headed inside, Eddie comes up behind Erica and scoops her up, holding her upside down over his back as she screams and laughs, hitting him.

When Eddie turn around, swinging her, Steve is watching with a smile that’s different than any smile he’s ever seen on him. Happy, but something more than that.

Content.

The kids all pile up on the sofa before the movie starts, bickering and arguing about who gets to sit where, who gets which blanket. Erica tells Dustin to move his legs because he’s touching her, and he throws his legs across her lap to be obnoxious. Lucas ends up between Max and Eleven, his arms around both of them. Will sets a leg over Mike’s leg. Nancy and Robin take residence on the smaller sofa, sitting close together despite the space on it, and Jonathan and Argyle sit on the floor against the sofa. Robin plays with Argyle’s hair.

Eddie waits until Steve is done attending to everyone, passing out soda cans and napkins and cookies and chips, rustling their hair and bopping their faces affectionately just to be annoying. And then he corners him in the kitchen, quiet as the movie starts in the other room.

He pushes Steve against a counter, and they’re kissing before he can even say anything, his hands on Steve’s waist, Steve’s hands on his face, over the scar on his cheek. Eddie tilts his head, letting his lips part, squeezing his waist, the softness above his waistband. Steve exhales sharply when they part, smiling.

“Alright?” Eddie asks softly. Steve nods. There’s something lingering on his face, in his eyes. “What is it?”

Steve hesitates, tucking Eddie’s hair behind his ears.

“I don’t…” He stops, biting his lip as he gazes at Eddie. The room is dim, softly lit up by the light from the hallway. “It feels like… like something’s missing.”

“What’s missing?” Eddie asks, tilting his head, his thumbs running back and forth.

“I don’t know,” Steve whispers, his eyes trained on Eddie’s mouth almost absently, like he’s zoning out. “But it’s… it’s good that it’s gone. Like it was never supposed to be there, and then it was, and now it’s gone, and I…” He takes a slow breath, his chest rising and falling. “Feel like I can finally breathe.”

“Are you happy?” Eddie whispers.

“Yeah.” Steve says it like he’s just realising it, blinking and looking into Eddie’s eyes. “I’m really happy.”

Eddie smiles, reaching up to touch his face.

“Are you?” Steve asks softly.

Eddie blinks, his smile falling. And he thinks.

Feels Steve’s warm hands on his face, their legs twined. Listens to the muffled movie in the living room, the rain outside. Knows that almost everyone he loves is under the same roof. Safe.

“Yeah.” He looks at Steve. “I’m happy.”

Steve’s finger presses under his chin.

“We’re the same,” he breathes.

“Yeah,” Eddie says again, smiling. “We are.”

Steve closes the distance between them to kiss him again, his teeth catching his lip carefully, his hands spreading over Eddie’s neck and cheek, covering his scars like he’s keeping them safe.

When they pull away, Eddie tugs him into a hug.

They squeeze onto the sofa next to Robin and Nancy afterwards, and Steve is smiling the whole time, squished between Eddie and Robin. Robin sets a leg over his, and Eddie sees him reach down to squeeze her tight gently before he elbows her against Nancy. After a minute, Steve pulls at Eddie’s hand, and Eddie looks away from the television to look at him, about to ask if he’s okay.

But Steve wordlessly pulls at Eddie’s arm so he’s lifting it over his head, and Eddie sets his arm over his shoulders, pulling him close. Steve leans against Eddie’s chest, a hand set on his leg. He squeezes when Eddie starts to play with his hair, and Eddie feels him fall asleep after a minute, heavy against him, his shoulders rising and falling steadily with every breath.

He sighs, dragging his fingers through Steve’s hair as gently as he can, tilting his head to look at him, but he can’t see his face. So he just sighs again and presses a lingering kiss to the top of his head.

He looks up across the room, scanning over all the kids. Eleven is asleep against Lucas, an arm over his stomach, and Max is holding Lucas’s hand that’s by her shoulder, squeezing his fingers. Erica’s brows are furrowed in concentration as she watches the movie.

Will is looking back at him.

Or rather, Eddie realises after a moment when the television screen changes, brightening, he’s looking at Steve. At Steve sleeping against Eddie’s chest, holding his thigh, at Eddie’s fingers in his hair. Will is smiling, looking almost curiously, and his smile grows when his eyes meet Eddie’s.

Eddie jerks his chin up at him, gesturing vaguely, silently at Mike next to him, and Will looks away, at Mike. He seems to hesitate, looking back at the television, biting his lip, and then he finally lets his head fall to Mike’s shoulder. Mike smiles at the tv, and after a moment his head falls to rest on Will’s. Will’s eyes close.

Eddie sighs, shifting to settle into the sofa. Steve nuzzles into his chest, a soft noise escaping him, and Eddie runs his hand through his hair again, closing his eyes and listening to the rain.

#guys i really love angst you dont understand #i have a problem #this follows basically the exact same plot as another one of my fics and i am aware #i just have a hc that steve would be pissed at eddie for not running #so #anyway #drink some water <3 feed yourself <3 take your meds <3 be nice to yourself <3 love you <3 #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #steddie #steddie fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

[its-always-sunny-in-city17]

cant stop thinking about roommate AU Q and others seemed to like him so I'm gonna share some of my ideas, though a lot of you got the vibe perfectly and described him better than I could with my bad english but here you go nonetheless.

Noone has any idea how he pays his half of the rent, considering the fact that he seems to be unemployed.

He seems to be absolutely loaded (which comes directly from the Q continuum) and though Picard never struggles with money often, when he does Q will be dramatically reluctant about it but always jump to help him out.

Almost never actually in the apartment, usually like twice a month.

Despite him almost never being in the apartment Picard can call him up and Q will come running ( though lord knows that's the last thing Picard would wanna do)

When actually in the apartment he makes use of all of it, rarely ever staying only in his room. Most of his time is spent in the kitchen/living room (i always imagined it would be joined) couch, or following Picard around to any room he tries to escape to.

CONSTANTLY steals clothes, towels, just whatever he can get his hands on. This man has absolutely zero regard for personal space.

This applies not only to Picard, as Picard is a fair bit smaller than Q, Q will often resort to just "borrowing" Riker's clothes if he's around.

This also applies to Picard's bed, in which he will sleep whether or not Picard is there. Sometimes Picard will let him stay, throwing his blanket to cover Q also, most of the time he will immediately angerly shoo him out.

This is an if you choose to imagine him without his powers thing- He gets cold really easily. In the summer it's fine but during the winter there will be no blankets in sight unless you look to Q who is bundled up as if he's about to go live in a shed in Greenland.

In the winter his hate for the cold often is the cause of him appearing in Picards room and plopping down to sleep next to him, which in turn due to the extra 5 blankets and man will leave Picard overheating.

Will bring the most awful and garish decorations known to man. when he leaves Picard will instantly put them in Q's room, never to be seen again.

Will never clean or do the dishes, but will leave with the fridge way more full than it was before, despite him only ever being seen eating takeaway or Picard's cooking.

ok thats enough thanks, highfive. If you care more about this dumb little AU please go look at the reblogs for my first post about it because some of you nailed the vibe so hard..... high five....

also sorry if any of this is kinda ooc ive still only seen 2 q episodes hihihiihihoooihohaaa

#star trek #st tng #star trek tng #star trek the next generation #st Q #star trek q #q tng #qcard #jean luc picard #my art

[dvrk-moon]

LOVE ME (NOT) - YANG JUNGWON

TEASER 1

synopsis : fake dating your enemy, yang jungwon, for the sake of getting your mutual friends to stop playing matchmaker is the worst idea you’ve ever heard in your life. however, it’s a bit more enticing when $100 is thrown in the mix.

word count : 1.8k

warnings : none for this part

featuring : ive wonyoung, bnd taesan + more in full work

genre : enemies-to-lovers, fake dating, slow burn, jungwon x fem!reader, private school au, high school au

playlist : tba

expected release date : whenever i finish this ten page essay i have

i. FOURTY-LOVE

The wind always blows when you don’t want it to.

At least, that’s what it feels like.

You were sat on a bench outside of the country club owned by your friend’s family. They were crazily wealthy, owning not only a country club but also many vacation homes and businesses. That was pretty much a given though, especially since you had met your friend at a private and prestigious academy. Everyone that attended the school was extremely well off in a sense. Most of the students had parents who were business owners, political figures, or even celebrities. To say that you were an outlier would be an understatement.

You didn’t come from wealth. In fact, you were one of the only students at your school to not come from wealth. You were offered a scholarship for your academics; last year, you had an opportunity from your old school to take a test that offered a scholarship to your current academy if you scored well. Only the top five scorers would be granted admission. You and four other students were awarded with the scholarship.

Unfortunately, that meant that you had left a completely different life behind. Your two best friends from childhood, Minji and Gyuvin, were both in support of your academic opportunity, but neither of them had passed the test, so you were left alone. A new, clean slate at a school where you knew next to no one.

Your new classmates made no effort to help you fit in. In fact, most of them ridiculed you for coming from a lower class. It was expected when mingling with snotty prep school kids, but it still hurt. The only person that hadn’t singled you out was Wonyoung.

She was easily the most popular girl there, but she still brought you under her wing. This caused the others to be slightly kinder to you, but only in her presence. 

So here you were, sat on a bench, outside of her family’s country club, swinging your legs and glancing at the tennis court in front of you. It was late March, and though the weather reports had said that it would be nice enough outside to wear a skirt, your legs were cursing you because of the wind.

Wonyoung had gone inside temporarily to go fetch the two boys that you were going to play tennis with. She’d left about two minutes ago, telling you that she just had to run down to the entrance gate and she’d be back as soon as possible.

You fidgeted with the hem of the skirt you were wearing. It wasn’t even yours; it was Wonyoung’s, and she had let you borrow it for today. You laughed at yourself, because here you were, at a country club, yet the clothes you were wearing weren’t even yours. From an outsiders perspective, you seemed rich. Everyone else could tell the truth, though.

Another breeze passed by and you stood up, walking towards the door. You weren’t sure how much longer you’d have to wait, so you figured that you may as well wait inside. 

As if on cue, Wonyoung exited the door with the two boys. You knew both of them from school. Honestly, you liked Wonyoung’s boyfriend. His name was Taesan. He was always nice to you, and never made you feel bad for being of a lower class.

The other boy, however, seemed to have a personal vendetta against you, and you had no idea why. He didn’t seem to like you from the first day you met, even though you’d been nice to him from the get-go. If you had to guess why he didn’t like you, it was probably for the same reason that none of your other peers seemed to like you: your wealth status.

Jungwon was his name, and aside from being a major jerk to you, he was extremely intelligent. Ever since you arrived at the school, you’d been one of the top ranked students. It made sense, too, as you were permitted into the school based on your academics. Jungwon was ranked second to you in most classes. You figured that could be another reason.

As soon as you met eyes with Jungwon, he rolled his own and shook his head. He was donned in the most prestigious tennis outfit you’d ever seen, which was saying a lot, given as this country club was flooded with rich and pretentious tennis players.

“Okay,” Wonyoung started, walking over to you, “now that we are all here, do you guys want to warm up?”

“Yeah,” Jungwon said, looking away from you, “let’s warm up.”

You didn’t miss how Jungwon slightly shoulder-checked you as he walked towards the tennis courts.

You entered the fenced-in courts, and another breeze blew in your direction. As a reaction, you shivered, making Wonyoung giggle as she made her way towards you.

“Sorry about the hold up,” she started, bouncing a tennis ball on the court, practicing her serving. She looked over at the other side of the court, where Jungwon and Taesan were situated. She laughed, “but those two were taking forever. They’re weird.” She offered you an apologetic smile.

“It’s fine,” you said, “I was just afraid you wouldn’t come back. I stick out like a sore thumb here.”

Wonyoung frowned, “No you don’t, Y/N. I don’t think a single person here batted an eye while I was gone.”

“You were gone,” you teased, “how would you know?”

“I know lots of things,” she commented, “I know lots and lots of things.”

You bounced the tennis ball on the court as you laughed at her words, “Whatever you say.”

After about five minutes of warming up and a dirty look exchanged with Jungwon later, Wonyoung announced, “Okay, let’s get to playing! Do we wanna do singles or doubles?”

“Let’s do doubles,” Taesan said, walking towards the net. He patted Jungwon on the back, “and Jungwon, you can be partners with Y/N. Is that okay with you guys?”

Wonyoung turned to you, “It’s fine with me as long as you’re okay with it.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Taesan started walking over to Wonyoung, so you took that as your cue to go ahead and walk to the side Jungwon was on. Even though you knew Jungwon wasn’t your biggest fan, you still attempted formalities with him.

“Good luck,” you commented, looking at him. You sent him a little smile, “I’ll play to the best of my ability, but I don’t play often. So, sorry in advance.”

“I’m not surprised.” Jungwon replied under his breath, thinking that you wouldn’t hear. You decided to just ignore him and play to the best of your ability, like you said you would.

The first game started with Wonyoung serving and you receiving, but the first game was cut relatively short with an easy 40-15 that ends in your team’s loss.

The rest of the games of the first set ended very similarly, to no surprise. Wonyoung’s family owned the country club. Of course she would be good at the game.

So far, you and Jungwon had only won two sets out of the seven played. Wonyoung and Taesan only needed to win one more set to win the match.

Jungwon, quite obviously, was extremely frustrated at this loss. Very early on, you’d learned that he was a sore loser, and that you being bad at tennis definitely wasn’t helping soothe his anger.

After the final set that ended up in, surprise, a win for Wonyoung and Taesan, the two winners went to take a quick victory break while they left you and Jungwon to “discuss game strategies” as they phrased it.

In the three minutes that they’d been gone, no words were exchanged between you and Jungwon. He was just repeatedly slamming the tennis ball into the court and catching it when it bounced back. The air was tense, but you still tried to make conversation.

“Sorry about that.”

“Your horrible playing?” Jungwon snidely remarked, “Yeah. Thanks for the apology, but that doesn’t change that you’re making us lose.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, “You’re acting like this is life or death. It’s just tennis.”

“Yeah, it may be just tennis to you. But some people, of… higher class… take it more seriously than people like you would. So I don’t expect you to understand.”

“People like me?!” You laughed incredulously, surprised at his audacity. You tried your best to keep your voice down to not draw any attention towards you two, but with his attitude, it was difficult.

“Yeah, people like you. Did I stutter?” He asked snarky. 

Your words got caught in your mouth- most of the time when people were mean to you, you’d just either ask them what they said (even when you’d heard it) or you’d repeat what they said to you, and that usually made them back off. Clearly this wasn’t the case for Jungwon, though, as he was completely okay with repeating himself and not even thinking twice about what he said to you. You groaned, turning away from him, “You’re not nice.”

“And you’re bad at tennis.”

“At least I’m good at math…” you trailed off, semi-hoping that he wouldn’t hear. You were better than Jungwon when it came to math, and that was a sensitive topic for him. But, if he wanted to ridicule your tennis playing skills, then you would ridicule his mathematical abilities.

The tennis ball that was being aggressively bounced into the court stopped. You didn’t need to look at Jungwon to know his eyes were boring holes into the back of your head.

“What did you say?” Jungwon seethed out, taking a step closer to you.

“Nothing…” you trailed off, facing him, “it’s just that… I don’t need to be good at tennis. I’m smart.”

“Psh.” Jungwon rolled his eyes at you, “At least my parents can pay for good schooling. Sucks that yours have to mooch off of a scholarship.”

You rolled your eyes back, very slightly raising your voice at him, “Yeah. Imagine your parents having to pay for the same schooling that I get. And I get it for free.”

Before any more words could be exchanged, Wonyoung and Taesan returned with canned drinks, one in each hand for the both of them and for you and Jungwon. Wonyoung smiled, “We brought you guys back something to drink!”

You felt most of your anger dissipate at Wonyoung’s return, smiling at her. She and Taesan entered the courts once again and you met her in the middle, “Thank you.”

“Of course. Taesan also brought something for Jungwon.”

You nodded as she handed you the beverage, cracking it open and taking a drink. The cold liquid felt like a good refresher to the heated argument that was just beginning to unfold minutes ago.

“I’m glad that you and Jungwon seem to be getting along.” Wonyoung commented, nearly making you choke on the drink. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ears, “You guys wouldn’t make a bad couple.”

a/n : temporarily showing up with a work after half a week bc i have been thru the trenches lately lmao

#enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen reactions #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfics #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen headcanons #enha #enha x reader #enha imagines #jungwon #jungwon imagines #jungwon x reader #jungwon scenarios #jungwon x y/n #yang jungwon #heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #sunghoon #sunoo #enhypen jungwon #ni ki #dvrk moon

[kristlewrites]

“Baby I’m ready for take off”

CW: Cock Warming ,Chest Riding, Fluff(?), Poorly written smut, comfort(?) nicknames ( ma, mamas, papa, and baby)

PAIRING: Connie x Black!FemReader

WC: 0.9k

🫧🗯️: Test run post! Don’t judge🤒 ALSO! first time writing smut so if it’s bad i’m sorry, it’ll probably remain like that for a minute…(title is from a wayv song.. doesn’t have to do anything with the fic🪦🪦)

MINORS DNI

(take off!)

It's been a long day, long week even. School has been beating your ass with essays and finals..this was your only chance to relax. You enter connie's apartment around 6 pm, he wasn't there because he's also been busy but not with school. The team made it to regionals and the coach has been working the team the bone with drills everyday.

     You use your key that he lent to you and make yourself at home, he lived off campus. You make your way into the shower and clean yourself up real quick and change into his pajamas, although a lot of your clothes is in his room, hell ! you even have your own drawer! But you love the way his clothes feels on you and his scent makes you feel safe. You were absolutely starving by the time you got dressed and decided to go order some food, wing-stop you finally decide you got yourself a 12 pc hot and lemon pepper with a side of fries and A sprite. When the food came around it was almost eight and Connie should be on his way home.

   After you finished eating you cleaned up super quick and went to bed, connie showed up about an hour later. He knew you were here but seeing you in his sheets and pjs made his heart falter. He went in the shower quickly and joined you in bed. He tried his best not to make any noise but regardless you still woke up 

    "Sorry ma, didn't mean to wake you up"

    he said so gentle, 

      "how are you? I'm sorry I came home late.. i didn't expect coach to keep us so long"

   he caressed your cheeks trying to get you back to sleep. You looked up at his beautiful freckled face, you missed him so much you guys havent been able to see each other at all this week with being so occupied with your own personal activities and affairs. Small tears stream from your eyes, he wipes them away with such care and delicacy.

   "I know, I know ive missed you too, baby"

    You turn towards to him and indulge into his chest , he's not wearing a shirt which is normal since he gets really sweaty at night (😭😭🪦🪦🪦) you start talking about the events that happened that week, how your essay went, how you absolutely failed your stats test, new books you bought, girl drama, and how stressful it's been for you. He nods occasionally and throws in a couple of "mhms" to let yk that he's still listening. This goes on for about an hour and at this point you're just rambling, but connie understands how much you love to talk and let's you continue without complaint, that is until you ask him about his week and what he's done. 

   At this point he's practically knocked out. 

   "Hah, What was that baby what did you say??" he said a little bit groggy

   You repeat your question, but while you do you see that he's HARD??? No way this man was hard from just hearing you talk.But then he must've been backed up from this whole week because of how rarely he saw you or had anytime for himself. When you think about it has been a while since y'all had sex, because of how seldom it's been to even talk to him on the phone 

   "Hey con.. You're hard, how long has it been?" you ask while playing with his nipples. (🪦🪦🪦)

   "Baby you don't even understand how much i've missed you..c'mere" He pulls you closer to his penis.

  Slowly he removes his pants and boxers, revealing his hard leaking cock.. good lord it was so much prettier than you remember. You slowly enter his dick into your hole, surprised by how wet you were.

   "Be careful mamas I could jizz into you at any point" you laughed at his choice of words, it was clear that he hasn't been relived in awhile..and while you were also tired doesn't mean you could at least help him out!!?? and you were on the pill so that should count for something..right??? Continuing you grab ahold of his tip and insert it, until fully seethed into your pussy. It felt so good, you grabbed his hand and placed it on your stomach showing him where his dick is. That really pushed him over and sprayed your pussy through and through. your poor baby he was so sensitive. You guys stayed like that until morning.

   Waking up, you find yourself looking at connie sleeping so soundly and peacefully. You reach for your phone but feel restricted once you've realized the man got a whole ass dick in you. omggg

  "Baby wake up" you whisper yell, tapping his chest. you roam your fingers on along his abs, a few seconds later connie shifts a little bit to remove his cock from you and lifts you up and places you down on his chest. This all happens so quick that u immediately shiver, with your wet slicky pussy on top of his chest he begins move you up and down while his dick teases at your ass crack. Your nails dig into his abdomen while you grind your silky pussy over his abs. Connie's hands take pleasure in your tits while they bounce up and down, twisting and turning you nipples putting you into over drive. Your cum glazes over his abs, you panting hard. First thing in the morning... You rest your head on his chest finding his heart beat while he rubs your head calming you down. 

   "I love you ma" he whispers, he feels your smile into his chest and laughs a bit. He raises your head, "did you hear what I said?" He leans in for a kiss and you return it. "I love you too papa"

(Think of this as a soft launch ijbol)🫧🗯️

#Kristlewrites🫧🗯️ #black reader smut #connie springer x black reader #aot x black reader #connie springer x black reader smut #connie springer smut #connie x black reader smut #aot connie #smut #aot fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #black writers

[sturnad]

NIGHT SHIFT p2

Pairing: y/n and Chris Sturniolo

Summary: a girl that just started working in a local cafe in her small town and a boy who just moved into her town because of his dads job.

Warnings: none

I couldnt sleep for the whole night cause I kept thinking of him. I hugged my pillow and stuffed my face in it. I let out a small sigh as i felt my eyes close. And suddenly I was asleep.

-

The next day - I woke up in the morning and rubbed my eyes, back and forth. I slowly rolled out of my bed and stretched while letting out a big yawn. I spotted my clock in the corner of my eyes. "Shit-" i said as i quickly started throwing some clothes on. I had a morning shift today and totally forgot to set the alarm. I quickly got ready and rushed into my car outside. I started pulling the handle of my car door and realized i forgot my car keys in my apartment. I quickly ran into the building and went to my apartment, unlocking it aggressively. I picked up the car keys and stormed out of my apartment after locking it.

I drove off to the cafe all stressed out. When I arrived I rushed in and all of the other workers were already there. "Where have you been?" "Youre late." some said with a tone. "Im really sorry guys I totally forgot im working a morning shift today, i- im sorry.." i said while my breathing speed increased. I almost ran out of breath from all the running around. Everyone glared at me and then returned back to their work. I quickly ran to the changing room and changed in my uniform and apron. I came out and started taking some orders.

As I was cleaning up a table i noticed that boy from yesterday sitting in the corner of the cafe behind the table for two. He was with someone older, probably his father or someting. I got all flustered again just by looking at him. After I finished up with cleaning that table i walked over to them awkwardly.

"Hello, may I take your order?" i said politely while waiting patiently.

"Yes hello." his dad spoke as he cleared his throat. The boy kept glancing at me. "Im gonna have a cappuccino and a croissant" his dad said. I nodded and wrote it down. "And Ill take some waffles please" the boy said. I smiled at him as I wrote down his order.

-

I made their order and brought it to their table. As I began placing the coffee on his dads side of table my hands were trembling a bit so I spilled a drop of his coffee accidentally.

"Oh shoot Im really sorry I-" before I could finish my sentence his dad yelled at me. "What the fuck. Be careful, what is wrong with you?!" I trembled at his sudden change of voice and tried apologizing even more but it made it worse. Tears started fulfilling my eyes. "Im really sorry Ill clean that up for you now.." i spoke as i stormed off to get some paper to clean the mess up. The boy started running after me..

"Hey, hold up!" he said. I turned my head around with watery eyes.

"Im so sorry about my dad, are you okay?" he spoke with concern in his eyes. "Ye-yea im fine, thanks.." i respond.

"Are you sure, you seem stressed.."

"Yeah i was just late for work today and im a bit freaked out.." i say.

"Oh.. do you need a hug?" he said. Even though he was a stranger I totally fell in love with i really needed that hug. I nodded and opened my arms for a hug. I fell into his arms, he wrapped his hands around me, patting my back. Later on we both pull away. I smiled at him and thanked him. He smiled back and calmed me down.

"Hey btw are you from around here?" I said out of curiousity. "Im asking out of curiousity, I mean its a small town so I know everyone but Ive never seen you.."

He chuckled and replied "No um me and my dad moved here a week ago cause of his job.."

"Oh thats great, do you like it here?" i asked.

"Its nice.." he nodded. "I actually go the county technical high school here in Cape May" he added.

"Really? Omg me too! How old are you?" i said with excitement.

"Im 19, you?" he responded. I said im 18.

"So were both seniors after the summer break huh?" he said flirtatiously. I nodded. "Yeah, Ill see you soon?" i asked. He nodded and winked. "Hell yeah. Im Chris btw", he smiled, i nodded.

"Im y/n" I said, he smiled and went back to his table, I came over and cleaned the mess i made before.

-

After my shift i went back home and I COULD NOT WAIT for the summer break to end so I could see him again in school.. very unusal for me to think that but fuck i couldnt wait for school.

TAGS:

@imwetforyourmom @slut4mattsturn

@junnniiieee07 @uhnanix @pxndaaa

@thebottledwatersupplier @h3arts4harry

OMGGG WHAT DO WE THINK?? I honestly dont think its that bad. PART 3 COMING OUT SOON!! Love yall <3

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #adelinasmasterlist #night shift

[helloalycia]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 [𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑] // 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐤

summary: with only your guilt to sit with, you can't help but worry for Alicia's wellbeing and think about what you said to her.

warning/s: mentions of death and injury.

author's note: and this is the final part! hope the person who requested this feels i met the brief haha, that’s all for now but i’m working on some other stuff :)

one / two / three / masterlist / wattpad

After cleaning up and getting into a fresh pair of clothes, all with Ofelia's help, I was able to get into a less volatile state and return to the Clarks, who were still pacing outside the medbay. When they spotted me, they paused and smiled a little, putting me at ease.

"Hey, sweetie, how're you feeling?" Madison asked.

"Better," I answered truthfully, before looking between them both. "I just want to apologise for before. I was hysterical and it wasn't appropriate. Not when your family member is in there, hurt."

"You don't need to apologise," Nick said, nudging my arm. "You're scared. We all are."

I swallowed hard, unsure what to say.

"They're almost done in there," he told me. "They're just wrapping her wounds and we can go in."

At this good news, my heart seemed to return to its normal pace for a moment. "She's okay?"

"She will be," Madison assured me. "It looked worse than it was, but you got her back in time."

I could have cried again at hearing this, but I figured they'd seen enough of my tears, so I settled for a sigh of relief.

The three of us stayed out there for a little longer, Ofelia soon joining us, before we were allowed inside to see her. It was hard for me to imagine anything other than the bloody mess I'd left her there as earlier, but when we approached her bed and saw her looking much better, cleaner and safer, I knew she was truly okay.

Madison and Nick rushed to her side instantly, taking a hand each as she was still unconscious. I felt like I was intruding as Ofelia and I stood to the side, giving them a moment. And then Madison looked up, nodding to me.

"D'you wanna see her?" she asked encouragingly, but I shook my head.

"It's okay," I politely declined, feeling incredibly awkward and also unable to look at her without feeling a sense of shame wash over me.

They didn't say anything about it, and I risked glancing at Alicia once more, my heart aching, but in a different way, when I saw her pale skin, closed eyes and still figure. I couldn't stay here, not when I knew what I'd said to her last – so I dismissed myself before giving them some space, knowing it was for the best.

A few hours later, I was sat outside my cabin, fingers playing with the zip of my jacket mindlessly, when Ofelia found me.

"She's awake," she rushed out breathlessly, a smile on her lips.

I raised my eyebrows, standing up instantly. "She is? Is she– is she okay?"

Ofelia laughed, nodding. "Of course. She's asking for you, c'mon."

She was asking for me? Even after everything I'd said to her?

I nodded slowly, then quickly, then followed after Ofelia when I realised Alicia was waiting for me. It was as if a stone was lodged in my chest as I approached the medbay, walking inside and seeing Alicia's bed, surrounded by her family. When Nick and Madison saw me, they smiled with relief.

"You're here," Madison said, before looking to her son. "C'mon. Let's give them a minute."

I swallowed thickly as they left for a moment, Ofelia squeezing my hand before doing the same. Sucking up a deep breath, I approached Alicia's bedside, eyes falling to the conscious Clark girl as she looked up at me, eyes tired but alive.

"Hey," she started when I didn't, her voice raspy and quiet.

Naturally, my eyes took in the state of her, double checking to make sure she was truly okay. The colour had returned to her cheeks and she seemed pain-free, probably because of the meds running through her IV, and her body was covered by a blanket, so I couldn't see her bandaged wound. Still, she looked pretty weak and it left me with a horrible taste in my mouth, knowing it was because of me.

"You weren't here," she continued, taking a slow breath. "They said you left."

I opened my mouth, "I–", but stopped when my voice broke, taking a second to collect myself. For God's sake, why couldn't I keep it together?

"It's not as bad as it looks," she tried to reassure me, glancing down at her body, before offering me a small smile.

I blinked my tears back, shaking my head. "Isn't it?"

Her smile faded, green eyes boring through mine cluelessly, and I began to frown guiltily.

"You wouldn't have gotten hurt if we hadn't argued," I told her regretfully, "if I hadn't said what I did."

"Y/N, you couldn't have known it was booby trapped," she said, before reaching out her hand towards me.

I grabbed it, squeezing it gently, but I still felt horrible. "But we could have gone together if I hadn't pushed you away."

Embarrassed yet again, I turned my head and forcefully wiped my tears away, the thought of almost losing her reigniting them.

"It's okay," she tried to reassure me, tugging my hand with what little strength she had.

"It's not," I muttered, voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry, Alicia."

"Don't be," she said sternly, tugging my hand harder, forcing me to look down at her and see the determination in her eyes. "You brought me here when I could've died. You saved me. I should be thanking you."

I clenched my jaw, trying to stop the trembling, and let go of her hand. She began to frown, eyes flickering between mine.

"Don't push yourself away again, please," she begged, eyes becoming glossy. "You might not need me, but I need you."

My heart ached as she stared at me, refusing to look away, her heart on her sleeve. I'd almost lost her, just as I'd feared, and it hadn't mattered whether I was with her or not. Losing people was impossible to prevent and it could happen, just like that. It almost had with Alicia, and I could've lost her having acted so horribly towards her. God, I was a fool.

"When my mum died, it happened so unexpectedly," I suddenly said, knowing I was making no sense, but everything was coming out all at once. "I wasn't prepared, and it's the hardest thing I've ever had to go through."

"I'm sorry," she said considerately.

I shrugged. "You don't need to be. It happened randomly. Just like losing people in our tribe did. Death doesn't have a warning label, and I stupidly thought I could push people away so I'd never have to feel loss again."

I closed my eyes, pausing as I tried to collect myself, not wanting to cry again. And then Alicia's hand slipped into mind, and I opened my eyes, holding tightly as I met her green, attentive stare.

"My dad, he won't talk about it, but he does the same. It's why he struggles to trust people," I continued. "As much as I hate that about him, I take after him. And I don't want to anymore... I'm tired of being alone. I... I don't want to push people away anymore."

"You don't have to," she said with certainty.

"I know," I murmured. "Because almost losing you today only reminded me that it could happen any time, anywhere, no matter the circumstances. And I just– I don't want to ever lose you, not like this, not after all the horrible stuff I said to you."

She looked between my eyes, searching. "What are you saying?"

I took her hand between both of mine. "I'm saying that I need you, too. And I'm so fucking sorry. And, if you forgive me, I'd love to have a second chance. One that I won't screw up."

My heart was hammering so loudly in my chest that I wouldn't have been surprised if she could hear it in the silence that followed. Her hand between mine made my skin go numb, and the longer she said nothing, the more anxious I grew. Had I fucked it?

"Of course, you idiot," she finally muttered, before smiling weakly.

I exhaled deeply, feeling a weight off my chest, and then she pulled me down and wrapped her arms around my neck the best she could, hugging me. I tucked my head into her neck as I tried my best to return her hug, despite her laying down, and my guilt was somewhat shrinking.

"I know I'm not good at talking about how I feel," I said to her, pulling away but cupping her cheek, hovering above her as I held my weight up with my other hand. "I'm going to try to be better, I promise."

She closed her eyes, hand behind my neck and pulling me closer so our foreheads were touching. "I know. I appreciate it, Y/N."

I revelled in the moment for a few seconds longer before pulling back, smiling down at her. "You should rest."

"I will," she promised. "You'll stay this time, right?"

I squeezed her hand in response. "I'm not leaving."

Her lips curved into a tired smile, eyes watching me and making me nervous, before closing contently.

As promised, I kept Alicia company for as much as I could during her recovery. Over the next few days, when her family weren't sat with her, I'd stay by her side and try to take her mind off things.

One lunchtime, I was making her a tray of food to bring back to the medbay when my father bumped into me on the way back to her.

"Hey," he said with a smile. "What're you up to?"

I lifted the tray in my hand slightly. "Just getting some lunch for Alicia."

He nodded, eyebrows raising. "Ah, yes, of course. Y'know, it's nice to see that you've both resolved whatever argument you were having. It was starting to get weird, watching you ignore each other."

I smiled a little. "Yeah... it was my fault, but we've sorted everything out now."

"Well, you've been spending basically every waking moment with her since she got hurt, so you'd find the time, wouldn't you?" he joked, but it still made my face heat up with embarrassment.

"I just want her to be okay, dad," I tried to say dismissively, but it wasn't very believable.

He nodded, humming in agreement, eyes looking out ahead. I assumed the conversation had ended there, until he looked back to me casually.

"You like her, don't you?" he asked.

I blinked, trying not to choke on my own spit. "I'm sorry?"

An amused smile appeared on his face as he gave me a knowing look. "Y/N, dear, I'm not blind. I know my own daughter. You care for Alicia, in a way more than a friend does."

If I wasn't warm before, I certainly was now, especially the longer he stared at me, awaiting confirmation. But I was too cornered to speak. It's not that Alicia and I were hiding it, but there was nothing to share just yet, with everything being so new. I hadn't even had chance to prepare an answer.

"it's okay," he assured me, noticing I wouldn't speak. "I won't say anything to Madison. But she's not blind either."

Swallowing hard, I finally looked up at him. "Is it wrong of me to like her?"

He shook his head. "Not at all. Alicia's a good girl. And she seems to care about you a lot. And as far as I'm concerned, that's all that matters."

I wasn't sure what I was expecting him to say, but that seemed good enough as I began to smile with relief, glad he approved. He pulled me in for a side hug, wary of the tray in my hand, before squeezing my shoulders gently.

"You should head back or she'll be wondering why you're taking so long," he said lightheartedly. "After all, you've breathed the same air for the past forty-eight hours."

"Dad," I whined, embarrassed yet again.

He laughed before leaving me to it, and only after I was sure I wasn't bright red in the face did I head back to Alicia. When she spotted me, she gave me a smile, already sat up.

"Here you go," I said, returning her smile and setting the tray on her lap.

She looked down at it, grabbing her fork. "Ooh, it looks great, thanks, Y/N."

I took a seat on the chair beside her bed, quiet as she dug in. My eyes drifted to the bed as I zoned out momentarily, thinking about my exchange with my dad earlier.

"You okay?" Alicia asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

I looked up, meeting her eyes. "Oh, yeah. I... just thinking."

She quirked a brow, amused. "About?"

I leaned back into my seat. "My dad knows about us both."

She paused, fork lowering to her plate. "What?"

"He just said it then. I'm not sure how he knows, he claims he's not blind, but yeah. And he thinks maybe your mum knows too."

She was surprised, but nodded. "Oh."

I hummed, looking away awkwardly. We hadn't talked about telling anyone, so I wasn't sure what she was thinking.

"Is that a bad thing?"

I glanced at her, raising my brows. "What?"

She nodded slowly, looking at her plate. "If they know that we both... that we're more than friends. Is that a bad thing?"

"Of course it isn't," I said, surprised at her reaction, though I wasn't sure what to expect. "I just– I wasn't sure if you wanted them to know."

"I don't mind," she admitted, before smiling a little. "If my mum brings it up like your dad did, then great, otherwise I'll tell her soon."

I nodded in agreement, hiding my smile. "Okay. Sounds, er, sounds good."

She nodded too, stifling her own smile as she returned her attention to her food.

"Okay, pick another letter," Alicia said, pen to the scrap of paper as she waited. "And not 'a', 'e' or 'u'."

"So almost all the vowels aren't in the word," I said with impatience. "Seriously, what word did you pick?"

She laughed, saying nothing as she waited for me to choose again. We were playing hangman and I was losing terribly, but it didn't matter so much because it was keeping Alicia's mind off her injury.

Before I could think of another letter to guess, the sound of someone approaching made us both look up and we saw Nick walking towards us, probably to spend some time with his sister.

"Ladies," he nodded towards us, settling on a chair on the other side of Alicia's bed.

"Hey," we greeted him in unison, and I was about to ask if he wanted to play with us before he spoke up again.

"So, you guys are dating now, right?"

I widened my eyes slightly, as Alicia looked just as surprised, neither of us expecting his bluntness.

"What?" she asked him.

"Mum mentioned it," he explained.

Alicia cursed quietly, whilst I wasn't sure how to respond. I knew she'd told Madison yesterday, but not Nick. Not that it was a secret, but we didn't know he knew.

"Relax," he said, laughing. "I'm just teasing you. Thought it would be funny to see your faces, and right now, they're hilarious."

Alicia and I exchanged embarrassed glances, her cheeks dusting pink, before looking back to Nick.

"For the record, I called it," he added with a knowing look.

Alicia rolled her eyes playfully. "Not funny, Nick. But at least you know."

I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks yet again, especially when he began to laugh, glancing between us both. At least everyone important to us knew now.

It was almost two weeks later when Alicia was growing antsy in the medbay, adamant on getting up and stretching her legs. Of course, she was still wounded and couldn't do just that, but we'd managed to source her some crutches to let her enjoy at least a little bit of time outside.

"Okay, carefully now," I told her as she swung her legs off the side of the bed. "No rush, Alicia, okay?"

"I know, sorry, I'm just excited to get out of here," she admitted, before gently pushing herself off the bed and into a standing position.

I stood before her, ready to catch her in case she fell. Once she straightened up, she toppled forward slightly and I was luckily able to stop her from going anywhere, my concern taking over.

"Careful," I repeated nervously, not wanting her to aggravate her injury. "You okay?"

She nodded, squeezing my arm reassuringly before accepting the crutches I handed to her.

"Harder than I thought, sorry," she mumbled, before settling her weight on the crutches.

"Maybe there's a wheelchair or something we can find," I tried to help, "if you're not up for walking just yet."

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "C'mon, I'm not completely useless, am I?"

I rested a hand on her forearm comfortingly. "I didn't say that."

She sighed, before shaking her head. "I'm okay. Just want some fresh air."

"Okay," I agreed, before taking a step back. "Whenever you're ready, Alicia."

We took a stroll out of the medbay and around the ranch, giving her time to get used to walking with the assistance of crutches and also letting her enjoy the fresh air and change of scenery. A lot of the ranchers were happy to see her, having befriended her in the past, and shared some conversations with her before making sure I promised to take care of her. It was sweet, and it especially made my day to see Alicia looking a lot happier than she had these past few days.

"You've gotta show me the garden now," she said after another rancher greeted us. "I've gotta see how ruined it is since you've been slacking on your duties."

I couldn't help but crack a smile at her joke. "Last time I checked, I was slacking to keep you company in the medbay."

She laughed, before leading the way to the garden.

"Ofelia has been keeping an eye on it," I assured her, before we stopped in the field where the section Alicia and I managed was. "See? Just like it should be."

"Mhm," Alicia hummed, before shooting me a smile. "I suppose it's looking good."

I rolled my eyes playfully before tugging her towards a nearby bench. "C'mon, you need a break."

"Sorry, mum."

I refrained from glaring at her as we both sat down, and I chose not to comment on the relieved sigh she let out when she had a minute to relax. An 'I told you so' would have felt good though.

"How're you feeling?" I asked instead, resting a hand on her knee.

She grabbed it instead, holding it as she spoke. "Not in any pain, if that's what you're worried about. The fresh air is nice. So is spending some time with you."

I tried not to laugh as I raised an eyebrow her way. "What, like the past week hasn't been enough?"

With a deadpan expression, she shook her head. "It hasn't."

I didn't know what to say, sensing half of her teasing self was being serious. Instead, I looked the other way, feeling my cheeks heat up as she smiled, still watching me.

Thankfully, she changed the subject and we both sat there for a little while longer, talking about the garden and the ranch and anything else she wanted to. It was funny how, even though we'd spent the past two weeks keeping each other company, I still had so much to talk to her about. She was the best company to be around.

Eventually though, I checked my watch before realising we'd been out for too long.

"Your next dose of meds is due soon," I said regretfully, not wanting to leave. "We should head back."

Judging by her quiet groan, she didn't want to leave either, but she nodded and straightened up, stretching her arms.

"Back to the medbay we go," she said, yawning.

I stood up before stepping before her to help her up too. I didn't anticipate how close she would be stood to me though, and when she smiled softly, I grew very, very distracted by her lips.

"Y/N," she muttered with amusement, making my eyes flicker to hers briefly. "The crutches?"

I nodded, eyes falling back down to her lips. "Yeah..."

She laughed when I didn't move, but I couldn't help it. Her lips were pink, soft-looking and enticing, and all I wanted to was lean forward and kiss her. I hadn't found the courage to kiss her properly, not since the last kiss we shared when I ran away afterwards. She'd forgiven me for it, sure, but I didn't want to push my luck and rush things between us. It had only been two weeks since we'd started up a relationship.

Swallowing hard, I stepped back and tried to snap out of it, instead grabbing her crutches that were leaning against the bench. As I was about to hand them back to her, she called my name, making me look up. I didn't get chance to think as she suddenly pressed her lips to mine, hands cupping my neck and pulling me close.

I closed my eyes in a second, melting into her touch and her lips and wrapping my own arms around her waist, refusing to let go. It was amazing how perfect she seemed to fit against me, and how I didn't want it any other way.

My lips were numb when we finally pulled apart for air, and when I opened my eyes, I was submerged in pools of green.

"You think too much," she said quietly, a soft smile on her face.

I swallowed hard. "I know."

Her hands were still around the back of my neck, fingers moving and sending shivers down my spine. "Sometimes, it's okay not to."

I exhaled gently, smiling a little. "If only it were that easy."

She let out a sharp breath from her nose, trying not to laugh. "You'll get there," she promised, before kissing me again, though this time much slower and softer than before.

#alycia debnam carey #alicia clark #fear the walking dead #alicia clark imagine #alicia clark x reader #ftwd #alicia clark x you #fear the walking dead imagine #feartwd

[dognonsense]

so im brand new to the punk scene and way of doing things and i really dont know where to start. I want to decorate my jacket with patches and pins and stuff but i dont really know how to do that. Do you have any tips?

epic! for patches first step is to source the materials you need for it!

youll want to get fabric thats thick and not too stretchy. Denim is the strongest fabric for patches. But ive never made one from that. I would cut up old clothes i didnt wear or take clothing that was going to landfill for fabric.

Now i go to a fabric store that takes all the excess from the main stores and sell its for cheap which is great for saving money.

for making patches for individual use its easy to make a simple stencil with cardstock or thin cardboard, think cereal box, draw on ur design. then use a pen knife to cut of ur stencil, then put it over fabric, then ull want to be using a sponge to apply fabric paint in the holes. Then you can clean up with fine paintbrush when ur done.

Another technique is you can free hand paint directly onto the fabric. If the fabric isnt sturdy, giving it a base coat of paint before doing your design can make it easier to paint on.

leave edge space at the side of ur patches more than you think you would need, so that you can fold the hems when sewing your patches down. This helps keep the patch together as when unhemmed the fabric edge is exposed and falls apart over time.

you can use dental floss or embroidery floss as alternatives to sewing thread. Dental floss is popular because it is sturdy, cheap, and easy to use, as well as u can burn the end of it if u run out of thread to finish. embroidery floss is fun because you can use different fun colors which adds characters and style. The stitches are also thicker and more visible.

you can make pins using a bottle cap, can tabs, and safety pin and paint! You paint the bottle cap to have ur design. U can sand it down to make it smoother to paint. then you put the tab in the back side of the bottle cap. Then slide the safety pin into the can tab with the pinning on bit facing outward, then flatter the sides of the bottle cap to encase the tab into place. This is a common diy if you google it images will come up for sure.

#punk #diy #patches #diy patches #patch pants #crust punk #crust pants #diy punk #battle vest #pins #badges #punk patches #punk tips #punk fashion #asks

[emeritus-fuckers]

Copia as a dad maybe?

Copia as a dad headcanons

He's gonna freak out at first. Him? A dad?

He's gonna be a papa? Not just Papa Emeritus IV, but an actual papa! A father! A daddy!

And a daddy of your baby! With him!

He's gonna be all over your tummy as it grows! Touching, stroking, giving small kisses... His favorite thing is resting his cheek against your stomach as the baby squirms around inside you. He just loves cuddling up to your belly so much!

And then when the baby comes out? He's overwhelmed.

He just makes so many little noises when he holds the baby for the first time. He doesn't move when he holds the baby at first, completely shocked.

He barely even breathes for the first month of the baby's life when he gets to hold your child.

Watches your baby sleep, kneeling right next to the crib, only the top of his head and his eyes sticking out above the crib walls (or however tf you call it I dunno) as he watches, making sure your baby is alive and well while they're sleeping.

He's miraculously good at soothing the baby? By all accounts, it does not make sense, but the very second your baby sees him, no matter how upset they were, they're giggling immediately!

Definitely a daddy's baby. He's the favorite parent, I'm sorry.

Loves to feed the baby, though he will just kinda sits there like a statue at first.

With how many silly noises he makes, it's almost like they have their own language as soon as the baby starts babbling.

He could sit there, the baby on his lap, as they just made noises together.

I can see him doing the Freddie Mercury "eeeero" thing with the baby. You know what I'm talking about.

Barks with the baby, too.

It's just so precious I could cry. I wanna make this a drabble/oneshot so bad-

He's a bit awkward around diapers at first, but not because of what's inside them (he's cleaned lots of rat poop, he can take it), but rather... He struggles to put them on. It's way too complicated for our silly rat man.

You don't get to get up in the middle of the night if something's wrong. He does it. No questions asked.

He's pretty energetic, so he often runs around and bounces around with the baby in his arms to make them laugh.

Very proudly takes the baby on walks with you.

Your kid will most likely be a nerd, btw. Like their Papa.

Sister Imperator becomes a grandma for the baby because it's just so adorable (still doesn't reveal herself as Copia's mom though).

And the Ghouls come over to play with the baby all the time!

Just make sure there's someone to supervise them... They will go to the extreme to protect your baby. Surprisingly, Cumulus is the most protective out of them and she's very eager to babysit if you two need a break. She's also probably the safest babysitter of them all.

Your baby gets matching clothes with Copia, btw. Like the red and blue jackets. Even mini versions of his papal robes. They also have more casual matching sets, too.

Copia would be a bit awkward as your child gets older, but he'd do his damn best for them. No matter what might happen, the child can be sure he'll protect them.

Taglist: @sirlsplayland @firefirevampire @mamacarlyle @thatoddboy @lightbluuestars @mybotanicaldemise @emo-mess (send an ask if you'd like to be added! read the pinned post before asking!)

#ask #ghost band #ghost bc #ghost #anon #ghost band x reader #ghost bc x reader #ghost x reader #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia #copia #papa emeritus iv x reader #cardinal copia x reader #copia x reader

[444rockstargf]

omg school has been so so so hectic for me.

but ive said my thoughts on sub x sub stuff right ? k so ! dom x dom jack (or euro coz mmm euro) and reader :3

like jus imagine its their first non vanilla night and jack is hyping himself up, imagining what hes gonna do to his precious "sub". he knows that readers always been a bit pushy during their makeouts and very vocal on if she needs more foreplay or anything. but they start making out and getting naked and hes tryna push her on her back on the bed but shes like "whatre u doing?" and flips them over and grabs his hair and stuff :3 "did you really think i was gonna obey your every word? be serious, jacky baby."

yayy you're back!!

"i want you on me." | jack thurlow

chemtrrails over the country club. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @angelsanarchy @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @livingdead-materialgirl@romanroyapoligist @oliviah-25@si1nful-symph0ny @auggiethecreator @vanlisbon@livingdead-reilly

dom!female!reader x dom!jack

word count: 1.3k

contents: 69 position, blowjob, slight femdom, lots of nasty stuff

you had him running completely mad. since the start of your relationship, he realized how different you were from all his past conquests. your first night together had ended in a sloppy makeout session that left your image engraved in his mind ever since. and that’s how he found himself at the drugstore checkout, putting down a box of flavoured condoms in front of the cashier.

“ring ‘er up.” he pulled out a few dollar bills, slamming them onto the counter without making direct eye contact with the young worker. his mind buzzed with thoughts of you laying down in front of him with his pulsating cock down your throat as you sucked on it through the sweet latex. he had never purchased this before, but he wanted to sweeten things up for you a little. because you were special. 

he shoved the box into his pocket, making his way out of the store. your long conversation with him from the night before had finalized your plans of spending the night with him. your innocent request rang through his head all night. he imagined your sweet little pussy hovering over his face, all busted up from the endless rounds of stimulation that he would put you through.

he had everything planned to the last letter even though he had always been the spontaneous type. he even went as far as cleaning his room a little. he was that desperate to make things work out tonight. 

as he arrived back at this place, he set the condoms on his dresser. the sun started to fall below the horizon and before he knew it, the doorbell rang, signaling your arrival. he lept up from his seat, quickly dashing to the mirror to check himself out. he looked tired and sickly with week-old stubble spotting his jaw, making him look attractive in such an effortless way.

you stood shyly on his stoop, fidgeting with one of the buttons on your cute little black skirt. the door swung open and you were met with his cold, blue eyes. from his perspective, you looked like a child’s doll. the wind blew up the fabric a little, giving him a tiny peek at your lacy little panties. the motion caused a sizzle to burn in his core. he wanted you. badly.

he took your hand, pulling you inside. once you were about 6 inches away from him, he shut the door behind you, pinning you there and kissing you deeply. you gasped slightly into the kiss before melting into his touch, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs and his waist. your aching clit brushed against his clothes boner, pulling out a groan from his swelling lips. 

he carried you up the stairs, gripping your ass firmly enough to make you whimper. you were practically putty in his hands, and right now he just wanted to see how far he could take you. he would destroy you tonight. he reached his bedroom, collapsing onto the bed with you writhing underneath him. 

before you knew it, you were both stripped down to the flesh. jack laid you down on your back as your tongues fought the silent yet heated battle. your nude bodies were tangled with one an other, the need and passion in your movements growing faster as each second passed. he had two curled fingers shoved in your needy cunt as he sucked harshly on your bottom lip.

he parted your lips for just to take a good look at you. he was going feral, his motions resembling those of a wild animal. he quickly pumped his cock as he trailed sloppy kisses down your jaw, making a disgusting mess of cum as he helplessly bucked his hips into the edge of the mattress. 

needy groans escaped from his spit-covered lips. he was falling apart before you had even done anything yet. he went to shove his pulsating length inside of you, but before he could react he was flipping onto his back with you on top of him, keeping your legs on either side of him. a look of great confusion flickered across his face until you started using his red, leaky tip to toy with your tiny clit.

your eyes conveyed a message that your lips wouldn't speak. he cleared his throat, his voice coming out as a low croak. “w-what’s goin’ on, doll..?” a smile spread across your lips as you leaned forward to bring yourself to his level. you trailed a finger down his neck, making him shiver. you brought your lips to his ear, whispering so sweetly that he could’ve melted right there. “i’m gonna have a lot of fun with you tonight…”

so the tables had turned. and so quickly that his head was still spinning. he watched as you picked up the box of condoms from the dresser, reading out the words. “strawberry flavoured condoms. cute.” your belittling words made his cheeks flush and alarming shade of red. you opened the box, taking one out and tearing it open with your teeth. the simple gesture made a stream of cum leak down his length as a deep groan escaped his lips.

you moved down, turning yourself around so that while you were face-to-face with his aching cock, your dripping cunt was right in front of his face. he was lost for words at the sight of your fat little pussy. you rolled the rubber down his length, watching as the condom was already swelling around his girth.

wasting no time, you spat on the tip, taking the whole thing down your throat in an instant. the sweet taste of the condom filled your mouth, making it all the more enjoyable for you. his muscles contracted as all of his most disgusting fantasies were finally coming true. he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. sweet moans and breathy whimpers caused his chest to rise and fall. this was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. but he’d be lying if he said he wasnt loving it.

you ground your ass on his face a little, using his angular nose to get yourself off. you gagged and slurped up his dick, spit bubbling running down his balls and ruining the bedsheets underneath you. jack brought his hands up, using four fingers to start fingering you vigorously. you moaned deeply, the vibrations travelling down his veins. he buried his flushed face in your pussy, using his tongue and teeth to tug at your hard pearl as his nose penetrated your wet folds.

you screamed out as hot cum started pouring out of your hole, completely covering his face. as nasty as it was, he couldn’t get enough of the taste of your juices. he lapped up every last drop, wanting you to gush and squirt all over him. your legs wrapped around his head, nearly crushing him to death.

not a single thought could travel through your mind as his hypnotic movements pushed you closer to the edge. your nails dug into his thighs, leaving deep, crescent-shaped cuts all over them. his dick wiggles in front of your face as the condom filled up like a water balloon. you fondled his balls in your hands, sensing his orgasm coming.

you took his cock into your throat once more, wanting to feel him in your guts more than anything. tears streamed down your face as it hit the back of your throat repeatedly, but the pleasure of it was undeniable. your bodies were like a ticking time bomb, just waiting to explode from the abundance of stimulation. 

“d-doing such a good job, jack… j-just like that…” you rocked your hips against his face, not caring whether he’s suffocating or not. his muffled whimpers signalled that he was doing just fine under there. he reached a hand forward, pushing your head down his length as you swirled your tongue around him.

he fucked your face vigorously, letting the last amount of control in him take charge. this complicated display of dominance and submission was what made this truly orgasmic for the both of you. you both pushed eachother to your limits and far beyond them, making a complete mess of eachother in the process. 

needless to say, your first time with him truly turned his world upside down.

author's note: not too proud of this one :(( at least this visual is nice. but anyways this was supposed to come out like two weeks ago. enjoy yall!

#rory culkin #rory culkin smut #jack thurlow smut #jack thurlow x reader #jack thurlow #jack goes home #smut #lana del ray aesthetic #lana del rey #lana del rey chemtrails #chemtrails over the country club #444rockstargf

[kelloggsenthusiast]

please could you do a carlos alcaraz smut where he brings you to meet his parents and you have a good evening and after he rewards you with sex?

Permanent fixture

Post Cincinnati masters innit

cw: Trash Spanish translations (thank you Duolingo), smut, breeding kink, p in v, hella teasing, dirty talk (it's Carlos alca-rizz pls). Minors dni.

You had met Carlos' family before. That in itself wasn't new. The difference was that tonight you had gone to dinner with all of them, whereas you had only properly interacted with his mum or younger brothers during the time you used to play tennis yourself.

The dinner had gone objectively well, with your boyfriend holding you hand under the table every time he sensed that you were even slightly uncomfortable. That little gesture made your heart melt for him more.

By the end of the night, you were feeling more comfortable seated between Carlos and his older brother, chatting animatedly with his family comfortably.

Back at your hotel, as he watched you brush your hair and get ready for bed, Your boyfriend couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to make you a permanent part of his family. He thought about getting a beach house with you in the south of Spain, with some beach in your backyard. He thought of a dog or three that you would pick. Most importantly, he thought about you being pregnant, your tummy round with his children and him taking care of you.

"a penny for your thoughts, guapo?" she you ask as you turn in your seat to look at him.

"ven aqui," he says, tapping his lap for you to go sit, which you dont hesitate to do

you straddle him and he wraps his arms around your waist, making you comfortable in his lap.

"i was just thinking about how good you looked tonight with my family, and my younger siblings. it made me want to start one with you," he said as his hands go under the oversized Duran Duran t-shirt you were wearing. his warm touch made your stomach turn sweetly. you looked into his soft brown eyes and found sincerity in them, one that you had not been expecting to find.

"do you want me to give you children, mi amor?" he asks ans he lightly juts his hips into yours. you knew what he wanted. you had wanted it too. all night in fact

"yes, carlos," you say breathlessly

his hand comes to the back of your neck as he presses a sweet kiss to you lips. your hips begin to rub against his, making his grip on your waist tighter. you moan into his mouth as his tingue tastes you and his hands run down your body to the hem of your shirt

he reaches under your tee shirt to try and get you out of the cloth and pulls away fromthe kiss to lift it over your head. he looks at you, bereft of clothing exept for your barely covering it underwear.

his hand lifts to toy with your nipples, gently tugging and squeezing the engorged bud. you like.it so much that it makes you bdy arch towards him. his mouthr cobers your other nipple, nibbling and licking and sucking on the taunt flesh. making you hotter. making you weter. making you cry out his name.

"fuck, thats the prettiest sound ive ever heard in my life mi amor," be cooed as he played with your breasts. you began to grind against him with more fevor, making him groan against your chest

"more, please more," you whimper helplessly, desperately trying to get him where you needed him the most, and its like your prayers were answered because he immediately detached from your chest and went to kiss a spot on your neck that he knew drove you mad, all while his hamds made their way down to the hem of your thong. his fingers hooked the silky fabric and began to try and himmy it down your legs. when he realised that this was taking him nowhere, he decided to rip the fabric clean off, making you gasp

unable to hold himself back anymore, he flips the both of you overand kneels at the foot of the bed, pulling you towards him and making himself level with your glistening pussy

"carajo, muñeca. eres tan perfecta," he says before sucking on your hard nub, dragging his tongue against your bundle of nerves.

>"oh my god, carlos,"you moan out as you drag your fingers through him soft dark curls. he looks up at you as he continues his ministrations. he absolutely loved seeing you like this, all flustered and delirious. the total opposite of yourusual composed and calculated self. he loved hearing you beg and scream and moan. he especially loved that he was the onewho did that to you.

you began to grind your hips against his face, despereately searching for more friction until his hands squeezed your thighs, holding them in place. one of his hnds went between your legs to collect some of your wetness on his fingers. need to keep you wet as i can he thinks to himselfas he curls his fingers up inside of you, making your hips stutter. it was driving you mad, how close you were

"come on, bebé, you can do it," he encouraged as he thrusts hisstill curled fingers in and out of you. with a strangled cry and a shuddering body, you came all over his fingers and face. he fingered you through it, whispering to you how good you were for him and how it turned him on to see you like that, at his mercy

he pulled away to undress himself as you came down, but you still watched his every movement. it never got old to you

oncwe he was fully unclothed, he ran his fingers over your wetness, collecting some of it and using it to stroke himself. he looked so painflly hard and ready. it made you wet all over again, seeing him do that.

he ran the leaking head of his cock obver your slit, ccoating t with his warm precum. it made you let ouf the neediest , most pathetic whimper ever. god, you were so embarrased by it that you bit your lip.

"dont do that, hermosa," he chide as he leaned down to kiss you on the lips."i want to hear all the pretty sounds you make."

his words made yoyr head light, or maybe it was the head of his cock slowly entering your tight pussy. whatever it was, you were enjoying it

"ah, fuck," he groans as he grabs the sheets with his fist. you moaned as well, grabbing his biceps for purchase as he slowly bottomed out in you

"i love you," he whispers as he enters you completely. the sincerity of his voice makes tears spring into your eyes

"i love you," you respond as he begins to slowly thrust into you

his strokes were slow and gentle at first, making you get used to the stretch and intrusion, making you relax so hecould give you what you wanted. your hips began to move against his, meeting his thrusts

"tan bonita, tan preciosa, todos para mi," he groans as he picks up speed, rutting into you with purpose.

your breathing got shallower the closer he brought you to your orgasm. you felt so in love inthat moment as you stared up at him with rose tinted irises. you clech around him as you come for the second time. he continues to thrust into you, this time flicking your clit with his thum. the overstimulation makes you clench and jerk uncontrollably as you cry out his name.

"asi, mi amor, you can do it again.you can give me one more," he groans as his th rusts pick up more speed

"i- i- "you choke out. you feel him getting to you, his fingers on your clit, his thrusts against that ribbed spot inside you, his cock twitching with every thrust

"i cant," you cry out as you feel him get closer and bringing you along with him.

"you can mi amor. you can do it," he grunts. "come on, just one more. i know you can."

your breath catches as you feel your third orgasm wash over you, from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head. your body trembles and yoir pussy clenches, making carlos release his large hot load in you with a groan. you stare up at him as you try to regain your breath.

"i love you, he rasped as he leaned his forehead against yours.

"i love you," you respond , holding him close

#carlos alcaraz x reader #carlitos alcaraz #carlos alcaraz imagine #tennis x reader #carlos alcaraz smut

[dustydaddyyy]

iv: miss you | joel miller x f!reader

flash point (series) masterlist

pairing: pre-TLOU! joel x fem!reader (no use of y/n!) summary: on a particuarly wet night, you run across tess servopoulos and joel miller, and they help you out of a tight spot chapter warnings: canon-typical violence and gore, swearing, nightmares, mentions of stab wounds, FEDRA is basically an authoritarian regime, fireflies are not much better, constant POV-changing (sorry not sorry I'm trying to be an omniscient b), a lot of jokes about joel's old-man status, the slowest slow-burn of slow burns (because I'm trash and like to make you all wait for it), joel is kind of slightly less of an asshole in some parts of this chapter (when is joel not an asshole tbf), !TW!: mentions of parent death and suicide

a/n: *cracks knuckles* time for some character backstory hehehe. also more sam interactions because mark my words he's going to be an important character. we're not going to be talking about how long this took me to post. all i can tell you is that chapter 5 will be up by the beginning of next week, as well, so stay tuned xx K

"I've been holding out so long

I've been sleeping all alone

Lord, I miss you"

It was always the same nightmare.

Same field, same sky, same scream.

You were always frozen, unable to move, watching helplessly as the figure advanced past the barbed wire of the zone slowly, arms so thin they looked like they could snap, shoulder blades visible against the thin material of the dirty shirt. You would watch in horror as the figure spread their arms wide, as if welcoming death, before opening their mouth. The scream always felt as though it were straight in your skull, echoing through every cavity in your body and sending white hot fear through your stomach. 

You’d always woken up the same way, as well, sitting bolt upright in bed, gasping for air as your thundering heartbeat echoed in your ears, eyes wide and filled with unshed tears.

Tonight had been no exception.

You try to keep your breathing under control as you sit upright, eyes trying to adjust to the darkness. For a scary, disorienting moment, you have no idea where you are, gaze scanning the room for any hint of familiarity before your brain catches up and your memories fill you in.

Joel's apartment. Joel's couch.

Breathe.

The nightmare hadn't been new, but somehow, tonight, it had been worse. You were used to waking up in cold sweat and having to remind yourself it was just a nightmare, before falling back asleep, but tonight it was different.

Maybe it was the unfamiliarity with the environment, or simply the fact that this one had felt even more vivid and unsettling than the ones that had come before. Your heart pounds like a frantic drum as the remnants of your nightmare cling to your mind like cobwebs, a lingering haze of terror that refuses to dissipate.

It takes a second before your heartbeat settles again. Wiping the few tears that managed to escape your eyes from your cheeks, you try to take deep breaths. Casting a ghostly glow through the half-shut curtains, the moon is the only source of light as it hangs low in the midnight sky. Slowly you lower yourself back down onto the couch, hands trembling as they grip the sheet you'd been given by Tess, eyes staring up at the grimy ceiling. It's a warm night, one of those that makes every piece of clothing cling to your body. You had discarded your shorts long ago, leaving you in only the old but clean smelling t-shirt Tess had handed you before going to sleep.  

Desperately trying to close your eyes and go back to sleep, you twist and turn. You lie awake for a good long while, but nothing seems to work, the adrenaline of your nightmare coursing through your veins and keeping your mind awake. Swallowing hard, you take a deep breath and sit up again, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and burying your face in your hands, trying to shake off the lingering fear.

"Jesus," you whisper to yourself as you straighten out, before standing on shaky legs and quietly padding over to the kitchen. Normally, you'd have some shame about walking around somebody else's kitchen in the middle of the night in nothing but your underwear, but thankfully the shirt Tess gave you is too big, and just about long enough to cover your ass. You turn the faucet on, the water coming out a measly and unstable stream, before you cup your hands under it, bending down to splash some water on your face. You're not expecting it to work, but you still find the that the cold water helps ground you a little as you straighten back up, using your t-shirt to wipe the drops from your face.

You try to pull open a few cabinets as quietly as possible, looking for a glass. As you peer into the third one, which is filled with what looks like old coffee tins, a voice sounds from behind you.

"Glasses are under the sink."

You can't help the sharp intake of breath as you turn around to give Joel a wide-eyed look. He's standing –or rather, leaning– against the doorframe of the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest as he peers at you. The dim moonlight reflects off the bare skin of his arms in his t-shirt, and it takes a lot of willpower not to stare at the grooves of the muscles in his biceps, smooth and powerful.

"Fucking Christ, Joel," you breathe out as you pinch the bridge of your nose, "Give a girl a warning if you're going to do that."

"How would I have made sure you weren't stealing if I'd said I was standing behind you?" he asks, and you raise a single, sarcastic eyebrow.  

"How do you know I'm not stealing from you, then?" you ask him, and for the first time since you've met him, Joel doesn't seem to react to your inflammatory tone, and he shrugs.

"You'd have looked in those tins," he says simply, and you press your lips together as you realize he makes a more than valid point.

You say nothing as you turn away from him, opening the cabinet he pointed out and pulling out a glass of water. Joel tries his hardest not to look at the way Tess' shirt rides up slightly over the curve of your ass to reveal the seams of your underwear, exposed skin illuminated by the peeking moonlight, but it's a force stronger than himself. It's silent between the two of you as you run the tap and fill up your glass, before taking a few big gulps.

"Couldn't sleep?" Joel asks suddenly, and again, you take notice of the fact that his tone is devoid of its usual gruffness.

"Yeah," you say, turning back to look at him, glass in hand. 

Joel's eyes zero in on the t-shirt you're wearing, and he realizes with a start that he recognizes the faded logo on the chest and the once vibrant color of the material. Sure, Tess had appropriated the shirt a long time ago when it had stopped fitting Joel, but seeing it on you still sent a shiver through him. He wasn't sure how it made him feel.

"You an insomniac or something?"

"Sometimes," you say with a tight-lipped smile, "Why are you awake? Except to make sure I'm not stealing from you, apparently."  

It's dark, so you aren't sure, but you swear you can see Joel's mouth twitch ever so slightly into what you might've considered a smile.

He shrugs. "Couldn't sleep either, I guess."

Joel wonders if you can tell that he's lying.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that once upon a time, Joel had been someone's father, but he was a light sleeper. This meant that he'd easily been awoken by the sounds of your crying whilst you'd been having your nightmare. He hadn't moved a muscle at first, assuming that you were awake and not wanting to get involved in personal business that didn't concern him, but eventually, he'd heard you wake up with a gasp and a cry and realized you'd been having a nightmare. 

Usually, Joel would've relished an opportunity to get on your nerves. Maybe it was the peace of the early hours of the night, or maybe he'd been far too well acquainted with how these kinds of nightmares could rattle you, but he felt no urge to tell you about what he'd heard.

Besides all of that, he also figured it was none of his damn business, anyway.  

You let out a hum as you nod, leaning against the counter, eyes on the floor between your feet. After another few beats of silence, Joel speaks up again.

"Do you trust him?"

You look up in surprise at his question, and Joel feels the need to elaborate.

"This. . . Samuel."

You give a nod, letting a breath out through your nose. "With my life."

There's another beat of silence.

"Ain't he FEDRA?" Joel asks again, and for a second you can hear the usual abrasive, skeptical tone. Your eyes move to meet his in the dark, gaze suddenly piercing through him as you give a little shrug and a slight raise of your eyebrow.

"I used to be FEDRA," you state simply, and Joel fights hard to keep the surprise off of his face, "You trust me."

"That's still debatable," Joel says, and you give a small huff of laughter, before taking another sip.

"Fair enough," you say with a nod, your eyes focusing on the water in your glass.

Joel really wants to ask you what you mean when you say you used to be FEDRA, but he doesn't. After a second, you let out a breath, looking up and giving him a semi-awkward smile.

"I think I'm going to try and get some sleep," you tell him, "When all of this has gone smoothly, I still have to work an 8 hour shift."

"You're going to jinx it."

"Anyone ever tell you you're kind of a pessimist?" you tell him with a tight lipped smile, and he shrugs his shoulders, making an indifferent face.

"Not to my face," he tells you, and you nod again as you push off of the counter. As you step past him, you stop for a second to look at him sideways, corners of your mouth twitching ever so slightly. 

"Well, you're kind of a pessimist, Joel Miller," you tell him, your voice a semi-whisper, before you move on and away, disappearing through the doorway and into the darkness of the living room.

The next morning, you're gone before Joel and Tess even wake up, leaving nothing but a pile with the folded sheet and the t-shirt behind. You'd managed to sweet talk your manager into letting you open, having no problem letting yourself into the dark Starbucks to go about usual opening activities until you hear the sound of a truck pulling up in the alleyway followed by a few firm knocks at the backdoor. You open the door with a smile, and the soldier that greets you, frowns.

"You're new," he mutters, and you pretend to look surprised, "Where's Lucy?"

"Sorry," you say in your best apologetic tone, "Lucy said I could open today. . .she said she's sent word it would be me instead of her?"

"Fucking tower's been down again because of the storm last night," he mutters, before he takes a minute of silence to look down at you. Then, he sighs. "Whatever, I don't care enough. . . she tell you how this works?"

You nod. "You're just dropping off, right? Someone else comes by to do inventory and handle pick up?"

"Come on," he beckons you out into the alley, where the truck has been parked back first, canvas cover flipped open to reveal the contents of the truck, "Pick up's not until closing time, but someone will be by in a half hour to inventorize. . . he's always fucking late, that one, but he'll be there. Then pick up will be later in the day. . . help me with this, will you? Partner's out sick and fuck knows central couldn't spare me the extra kid."

Together you spend the next 5 minutes lugging crates, barrels and boxes into the back of the Starbucks. When you're done, you give the soldier a blinding smile as he closes up the truck.

"Thanks for the help," he tells you, and you nod, smile still on your lips.

"Anytime," you tell him in a sweet voice, "Thanks for not being a dick about it."

The soldier snorts slightly. "What's your name?"

"Jenny," you lie smoothly, and the soldier gives a small nod, the beginnings of a smile on his mouth.

"Thanks for the help, Jenny," he nods, before giving you a crooked grin, "I'm Jack. I'll see you around?"

"Sure thing," you beam, and it feels almost unnatural to smile this much this early in the morning. Despite this, the smile stays plastered on your face until the truck disappears around the corner of the alley. 

There's a rustling sound behind you, followed by a voice.

"Jenny?"

You roll your eyes as you turn to face the source of the voice. Sure enough, Joel and Tess are standing at the back of the alley, having seemingly appeared out of the shadows.

How did they do that?

"I bet there are a million Jenny's in the QZ," you say with a shrug, "Means he'll have a harder time finding me if he decides to come looking. . . now come on, we don't have a lot of time."

They follow you inside the room, and when she catches sight of all the crates, Tess lets out a low whistle.

"This is a lot of shit," she says, raising a single eyebrow as her fingers run over the top of one of the boxes, which is labeled 'Penicillin', "Could sell this for a small fortune."

"I'd advise against it," you tell her as you walk over to one of the 4 barrels of fertilizer, "FEDRA might be sloppy with some things, but the one thing they're meticulous about is the medicine."

"Go figure," Tess says with a snort, before she watches as you grab the edges of one of them, before nodding towards her.

"Help me with this, please?" you ask, and for a second, a look of surprise crosses over Tess' face.

"Please?" she repeats, almost bemusedly, "You got some nice manners for a thief."

"Only cause I like you," you return semi-jokingly, and Tess lets out an agreeing hum.

"Can we focus?" Joel interjects, and when you turn to look at him, he's raised an unimpressed eyebrow, "This ain't fucking tea time, you know."  

It takes all three of you to move the barrel of fertilizer back out of the door and against the wall, and when you're done lugging and have gone back inside, Tess gives you a look. "Now what?"

"We wait," you say, pacing slightly in front of the door, and Joel frowns.

"I thought we were on a schedule," he notes, raising another skeptical eyebrow, "On account of the entire working population of the QZ going to said jobs in about an hour, and all of that."

"Thanks for enlightening me," you snap at him, and your mind works overtime as you stop in front of the barrel, heaving a sigh.

Where was Sam?

You knew he was working a shift this morning, this shift, because you'd had a sneaky look at the roster he'd stuffed in his pants pocket when he'd been passed out in bed two nights ago.

"So, this is your great plan? Wait around?" Joel continues, crossing his arms and giving you an unimpressed look.

"Do you have a fucking better idea, hm?" you say, stepping towards Joel, hands curling into fists, your lack of sleep catching up to your temper, "Because all I've heard out of your mouth so far has been criticism, and it's starting to seriously piss me off."

"I ain't afraid of you," he counters as he crosses his arms, looking unbothered, and your jaw tightens as you take another step towards him.

At that exact moment there's a sound, and a pair of headlights illuminate the alley; then, the sound of a motor switching off and a car door slamming shut drift through the air. A few moments later there's a hurried knock on the back door. You give Joel another furious glare before stalking over to the door and opening it in one fell swoop. Sam is standing on the doorstep, peering down at a sheet of paper you assume is the inventory list, end of a cigarette between his lips.

"Sorry I'm late, couldn't find my fucking lighter," he mutters, before pulling the cigarette from his lips and dropping it on the floor, "You do know you've got one barrel out–"

His voice stalls in his throat as his eyes fall on you, the smoke of his last drag disappearing in the air around him. "Speedy? What are you doing here?"

You give him a dry smile. "Working."

"You never work the morning shift, you'd hit someone over the head with a coffeepot," he retorts matter-of-factly, before he narrows his eyes at you, "You up to something?"

"No," you deny, slightly offended, but when Sam gives you an expectant look, you shrug your shoulders as he steps inside, door closing behind him, "How come I always have to be up to something?"

"I've known you for over a decade, speedy, I know when you're up to something."

"As delightful as this conversation is, can we get on with it?" comes Joel's voice from behind you, and you resist an urge to suck a sharp breath between your teeth.

You wouldn't say Sam is a jealous man, but he isn’t exactly amenable to strangers.

Sam is silent for a second as his eyes move between Joel, Tess, and yourself, the playfulness in his eyes gone. "Who's this?"

His voice is tense, like an elastic that's been pulled taut, and you swallow slightly.

"Doesn't matter," you dismiss, shaking your head, "Look, Sam, I need your help."

Sam's eyes move between you and the two people standing behind you, expression unsure.

"Yeah?" he asks, raising a single eyebrow as he observes the scene, "With what?"

"The blue barrel in the alley outside. . . I need you to write it off the inventory," you tell him, and you watch Sam's eyes move from Joel and Tess to you, jaw falling open slightly. Then, he closes his mouth, eyes becoming stormy as his jaw twitches in anger.

"Are you serious right now, speedy?" he asks you, and you resist the urge to correct him on the nickname in front of Joel and Tess, and you watch as Sam runs his tongue over his top teeth in frustration, "Can I talk to you? Privately?" 

"Sam–" you say, but he doesn't give you time to react as he takes a hold of your forearm and all but drags you through the door of the backroom to the front of the shop and out of earshot. Tess and Joel exchange a look at the action, both wordlessly taking a step a little closer to the doorway.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Sam tells you as he rounds on you, eyes narrowed into an expression that makes it clear he isn't happy, "Tell me you're joking, right now."

"Sam, please," you ask, and your voice is surprisingly vulnerable, "Listen, you know how I told you I stole from the wrong people. . . ? Look, all I need to do is this, and then we're even, but I need your help."

"You've got some goddamn nerve, asking me this. . . you're putting me in a fucking impossible position, speedy," Sam hisses at you, eyes bulging slightly, "What if someone notices, hm? Then it's my head on the chopping block."

"They won't notice. . . they can't notice something they never knew they even had," you assure him, putting a hand on his forearm, "Please, Samuel."

After a second of brooding silence, Joel hears Sam sigh.

"What do you even need a barrel of fertilizer for?" he asks, and you let out a breath, giving him an almost guilty look.

"It's better if you don't ask questions," you tell him, your voice slightly uneasy, "Just–. . . please?"

Another beat of silence.

"What's your big fucking plan, then?" he asks, "Even if you had a car, how are you going to move this massive barrel across the QZ without at least 50 guards on your ass?"

"The abandoned church on Salem," you say carefully, knowing he isn't going to take it well.

"That's been boarded off for a very good reason, and you know it," Sam says immediately, shaking his head, "There is no way in hell."

"Come on, Sam," you plead, "I know FEDRA cleared it out forever ago and just keeps those signs up to avoid people sleeping in it."     

"How the fuck would you know that, hm?" he snaps at you, before Joel hears him sigh again, "Nevermind, don't answer that, I don't even want to know."

"It's on your delivery route, all you have to do is drop us off with the barrel so I can keep it there all day and move it as soon as it gets dark."

"That all?" he asks you sardonically, and for some reason, Joel finds himself getting irritated at this kid's tone with you. It wouldn't kill him to be a little nicer about things.

Eventually, Sam speaks again.

"Fine," he says, "But I'm not taking your little criminal friends in the truck with me, that's out of the question."

"How the hell am I going to move it, then?" you ask, and you sound put out.

"You can figure that out, since you're so clever," his voice is biting, filled with aggravation, and after a second, Joel hears you sigh.

"Yeah, okay. . . I'll figure it out. Thanks, Sam."

"Don't mention it," he says bitterly, before Joel and Tess hear his heavy boots walking back towards the backroom before he appears in the doorway again, eyes settling on both of them for a second. Then, he looks over his shoulder, looking back at you.

"Come on then," he tells you, his tone irritated, "You think I've got all day?"

Joel feels another stab of annoyance as he regards Sam, but he doesn't say anything, instead exchanging a glance with Tess.

"What's the plan?" Tess asks carefully, even though she's fully aware of it, and the soldier gives her a look.

"Go home," he tells her, rather bluntly, "She can handle it from here."

"I think we'll wait to hear that from her."

Joel doesn't know why he says anything; maybe it's the frustration at his tone, maybe it's the fact that he has stakes in this particular plan succeeding, but he gives the soldier a raised eyebrow as he receives a glare.

"It's okay," you say hastily as you watch Sam open his mouth to deliver what you're sure is a scathing rebuke, and you give Joel a look that clearly means 'drop it', "I'll meet you there."

Joel shakes his head. "And then what? You gonna move that thing by yourself? Not to diminish your abilities, but there's no way in hell you're moving 300 pounds of fertilizer in your lonesome."

"Who said anything about her doing it alone?" Sam interjects, and now Joel raises a single eyebrow.

"You did," he returns bluntly, not giving a damn if he knows he's been listening to their conversation, and Sam squares his shoulders, "Just now, actually."

"Not just a criminal, but an eavesdropper, too?" Sam says sardonically, before turning to you with a frozen, sarcastic smile, "This is the company you're keeping, lately, hm? Real nice."

Joel is about to open his mouth again to tell this little punk exactly what an eavesdropping criminal will do if he keeps speaking to you the way he is, but you beat him to the punch.

"That's enough, Samuel, we don't have time for this shit," you tell him, your voice firm, "I don't need to remind you about keeping bad company, do I?"

Your tone is biting, and clearly it works, because the soldier clamps his mouth shut with a furious glare as you turn back to Joel and Tess.

"I'll be fine," you say with a nod, mostly talking to Joel so he doesn't start anything when there isn't any time for it, "I'll meet you there. . . promise I won't run off with your shit again."

You say that last part with a small smile, which neither Joel nor Tess return, but eventually Tess gives a short nod.

"Tough crowd," you mutter to yourself, before you feel Sam's fingers close over your forearm, which makes you wince slightly, "Ouch, Samuel."

"Come on, then," he says in an irritated tone, ignoring your yelp of pain as he pulls you forward towards the door, "But if we get caught, I'm ratting you out."

Joel and Tess follow you out, and as Sam angrily stomps over to the truck, lifting the tarp from the back, you pull a set of keys out of your pocket and use them to lock the back door. 

"You guys go already, you'll need the head start. . .if you cut through the abandoned post office on 5th, you'll get there in 10 minutes, tops," you say as the lock clicks, before grabbing the edges of the barrel.

Tess nods. "Meet you there?"

You give an agreeing hum and a nod, before there's a banging noise as Sam gives the back of the truck a whack.

"Let's fucking go, speedy," he lets out in an exasperated breath as he starts to walk back towards you.

"Sure you got it from here?" Joel huffs out as his eyes move between you and Sam quickly, and you give a small nod, shooting him a furtive smile.

"Yeah, thanks," you say, and you sound genuinely grateful, which catches Joel slightly off guard. He looks at Tess, nodding once, before they step away from you and start to jog down the alley, making sure to glare at Sam in passing.

"Not sure I liked the way that kid grabbed her," Joel lets out gruffly as they round the corner, and Tess gives him an unimpressed look.

"Barely 20 hours ago I had to pull you off of her when you grabbed her in the exact same way."

"That was different," Joel grumbles, and Tess' eyebrow raises.

"How, exactly?" she asks him, but Joel ignores her and gestures for her to move on.

Back in the alleyway, Sam lets out a grunt as the two of you lug the barrel into the back of the truck.

"Unbelievable," he mutters to himself, shaking his head, "You're going to get me killed one day, you know that?"

"Let's hope later rather than sooner, hm?" you answer as the barrel drops into the truck bed with a decisive thump.

Sam lets out a grudging hum, before gesturing towards the back.

There's a moment of silence as you exchange a look, before you make a face.

"You can't be serious," you tell him, and his eyebrows raise.

"No way you're riding in the front, speedy," he tells you, and this time he doesn't sound angry, "I'm sorry, but there's no way I can explain you to anyone if we get stopped. . . besides, wouldn't you rather stay anonymous?"

You give him an annoyed look, before you clench your jaw and grudgingly get in the back of the truck, sitting down next to the barrel on one of the makeshift wooden benches nailed to the side.

"Thank you," Sam says in a breath, before giving you a furtive smile, "See you in 5 minutes."

Then, he unties the tarp at the top of the truck so it falls to cover the contents of the back, you included.

The ride is semi-smooth, except for a moment where Sam gets stopped at a checkpoint because his 'buddy', Carter, wants to know if he has any cigarettes to share. It gives you half a heart attack when you feel him bang his rifle on the metal side of the truck in a joking greeting.

"Sam-my," he says, his voice low and arrogant, "Late on the early shift again, hm?"

"I overslept," Sam says, and you can tell from his dry tone he isn't totally enamored with Carter.

"I would say it happens to the best of us, but. . . we're all here, Sammy."

His smug laugh floats through the morning air, and it makes you roll your eyes.

Jesus Christ, this guy.

As you suspect, Carter just wants a cigarette. But as he leans through the window, you hear him clear as day as he speaks to Sam. "You got anything extra today? For my pain, you know."

There's a grunt from Samuel as you listen to him rummaging around, before Carter lets out a contented hum and clears his throat, stepping away from the truck. "Alright, come on, let him through."

The truck rumbles down the street as you leave the checkpoint behind, and barely a few minutes and a corner later, it stops and the motor switches off. You hear Sam's footsteps as he jumps from the driver side and walks around to the back of the truck, before lifting the tarp.

"Out you come," he says, and you clamber out as inconspicuous as possible, which you're not going to lie, is hard.

Finally your feet hit the ground in front of him.

"You know," you say as you stand up straight to face Sam, your face barely a few inches from his, "I wouldn't let Carter walk all over you like that."

"I can't remember asking for your opinion," he tells you with a sarcastic smile, and you raise your eyebrows slightly, making a face.

"You could take him."

"I don't want to, speedy," Samuel says with a scoff, shaking his head as he lowers the latch of the truck, "I'm not interested in making enemies like you are."

"I don't make enemies," you defend slightly, and even though Sam doesn't look at you, you can tell on his face he doesn't believe you.

"We've been here barely two months and you already owe the wrong people too much money."

"Who said it was money?" you ask again, and when Sam doesn't answer you, you let out a breath through your nose, pursing your lips.

"Is that why you didn't want Joel and Tess in here? Didn't want them to know you bribe your buddy Carter for some extra minutes of sleep? He just a smoker. . . ? Or does he use something stronger?"

"Oh, bite me," Sam tells you with a narrowing of his eyes, and you give him a half-smirk as you stare him challengingly in the face.

"Anywhere you like, Sammy," you tell him teasingly, and he lets out a scoff, shaking his head as the corner of his lips pull upwards.

At that moment, you hear footsteps at the end of the relatively small street, and you turn your head to watch Tess and Joel approaching.

"We all got there in the end!" you say brightly, and you're met with Joel's scowl as he scoffs.

"Speak for yourself, sweetheart, you came in a truck."  

You watch as Sam's brow crinkles just slightly at the sound of the nickname Joel uses, but you move on as quickly as you can.

"A man your age, should be keeping fit," you say in a robust, mocking voice, before making a face at him that drips with false concern, "Wouldn't want to risk you dropping dead from a heart attack at the ripe old age of sixty-five, grandpa."

"Means a lot coming from someone who's been alive less than two decades," he snaps back, "Tell me, do you remember what a rotary phone is?"

"I know perfectly well what it is," you reply swiftly, and Joel makes a momentary face like he's considering it.

"How's the day going to work?" Tess interjects suddenly, gaze resting on the expression on Sam's face, whose eyes keep flitting between you and Joel.

You heave a sigh. "I'm going to have to go back to work, but I'll get here as soon as I get off at 3pm."

Tess nods. "Works for me, I got a 4:30pm job to get to. It should finish before curfew at ten."

"I'll stay in the area to make sure nothing goes wrong, then," you say with a short nod, before eyeing them both, "And then your friend and his dudes can do the rest."   

"Dudes," Joel repeats, his voice slight with disdain.

"Men, goons, brutes. . . whatever," you say with a wave of your hand.

"You're in luck, my final shift of the afternoon is somewhere around here," Sam says sarcastically, before shooting you a look, "Although not very sure about the coincidences of that."

"M'staying," Joel grunts, exchanging a look with Tess, "Don’t have much going on today, anyway.”

You bite back a snippy comment about how he has no life, concluding that you all don’t really have that much of a life in a post-apocalyptic hellscape. 

“I need to go back to the shop,” you say, giving a half-apologetic look, “I can’t miss this shift, and if my boss finds out I skipped after begging her for it in the first place she’ll fire me faster than I can even apologise.” 

“Go,” Tess says with a nod, and you give a half-hearted smile before you walk away, Samuel in tow. Joel watches as you exchange a few words, not missing the way Sam’s hand brushes over the side of yours as you talk. Tess also seems to notice, brows raising slightly as she observes your interaction, but she says nothing. 

She looks away instead, wondering what the fuck she’s going to do to kill 8 hours with the man-turned-brick-wall that was Joel Miller. 

True to your word, you're back at three in the afternoon. The sun is still high in the air, which is thick with humidity. Boston didn't get many hot days, but when it did, they were also horribly humid. Joel and Tess are standing right where you left them, or rather a combination of standing and sitting. They look bored. 

You hold up a paper bag as you approach. 

“Anybody want a snack?” you ask semi-flippantly, and Joel shoots you a glare from his position leaning against the brick wall, beams of sun illuminating his feet as the rest of him stands in the scarce shade. When you receive no answer from neither him nor Tess, you give a dry smile. 

“Not all at once.” 

“This isn’t a picnic,” Joel snaps, and you give him a look.

“Who pissed in your oatmeal this morning, grandpa?” you ask him, before your face turns jokingly serious, “Tell me, did you run out of raisins?” 

The glare Joel delivers is furious, but you shrug your shoulders in mock innocence. 

“Out there you can be as mouthy as you fuckin' want,” you imitate his voice, exaggerating his accent as much as you can as you throw his words from last night in his face, “This counts as out there, right?” 

Joel can see in your face that you’re enjoying talking smack to him; your eyes have a twinkle to them he’s not sure whether he likes or loathes. 

“I don’t sound like that,” he says finally, resolving not to give in to your digs, because he knows that’s exactly what you want. He watches with some satisfaction as you let a breath out through your nose, almost a huff, eyebrows moving up momentarily as you turn away from him and go to sit down against the wall. Tess is sitting on it, peeling an orange in silence. 

The silence doesn’t last very long, though. Joel’s eyes land on your twitching fingers; you’re not someone who likes silence – it makes him wonder why.

“Where the fuck d’you get an orange?” you ask Tess, hand coming up to shield your eyes from the sun as you look up at her. She meets your gaze with a nonplussed look. 

“Went to the market,” she returns sarcastically, “Selection’s great this time of year.”

Joel feels a distant urge to smile at her snark as you give her a dry smile.

It’s silent again, and for a second Joel rests his head against the wall and allows himself to close his eyes, the only sounds coming from the people in the street around him. It seems silly, but like this, Joel doesn’t have to see. Sure, the sounds of the QZ are quite a bit different from what cities used to sound like, but it’s still nice to close his eyes from time to time and pretend it’s the same. 

His ears perk at a new sound, like something scraping against wood, and when he opens his eyes to investigate, they fall on you sitting against the wall. Your knees are pulled up, and Joel’s eyes have to look past your knees to see that you have that tiny blade clutched in one hand and a stick in the other, using your knee to sharpen it to a tip. You’re focused, eyes staring as the blade rolls over the wood, chips curling elegantly before falling into your lap. 

“The silence was nice,” Joel comments, and you actually find yourself rolling your eyes, but you don’t look up at him.

“I didn’t say anything,” you tell him pointedly. 

More silence. Joel’s eyes feel like they’re staring holes into your head. 

“You one of those kids that can’t sit still?” he asks eventually, clearing his throat as he crosses his arms and peers down at you. Your mouth curves slightly but you still don’t look up at him, focusing on your stick. 

“So what if I am?” you reply, your voice smooth but Joel discerns the slight defensive tone, “And I’m not a kid, Joel.”

There it is again. Joel hates how much hearing you say his name like that affects him. He looks away, directing his surly expression across the street. There’s a FEDRA checkpoint set up there, and he watches as Sam chats to another soldier. Occasionally, they stop someone, and search them, but it doesn’t get much more exciting than that. 

You’re done sharpening your stick; you discard in the dust at your feet, before breathing a small sigh as you look across the road at the checkpoint. 

"What's the story?" Tess asks you as she follows your line of sight to Sam, who is standing at the checkpoint actually laughing with one of his fellow soldiers.

"Hm?" you ask her, and she gives you a look as she nods in his direction.

"With your soldier."

"He isn't my soldier."

"He's something," Tess says matter-of-factly, and you let out a sigh.

Joel pretends he isn't listening as he leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as his eyes survey the square, but his ears are very tuned into the conversation. As much as he hates to admit it, he's just as curious about the nature of your relationship to Sam as Tess is.

"I've known Sam a long while. . . we met in FEDRA military school," you say finally, and Tess' expression barely changes as her gaze bores into yours, eyebrows moving up as they silently ask you to continue your story.

"Here in Boston?" she asks, and you shake your head.

"No, uh," you clear your throat, and Joel notices the way your fingers twitch nervously around the blade, "San Francisco. . . I was there before I came here a few months ago."

"Didn't they have a full-scale insurrection in San Francisco?" Joel speaks up, and you turn your head to look at him, nodding as your eyes fall back on your fingers, which twirl the knife around in your hands.

"Yeah, it was carnage," you say, swallowing, before your eyes move back up, resting on Sam again, "We barely got out of it alive."

"How'd you end up there in the first place?" Tess asks, and you give her a cautious look.

"How come you're suddenly interested in my life story?" you ask her, your tone almost defensive, and she raises her eyebrows as she crosses her arms over her chest.

"If this goes right, I have a nasty little feeling we're going to be seeing a lot more of each other, and I don't like going into my partnerships blind," she tells you, and you nod with a small scoff, "And I guess we've got time to kill."

"I guess we do," you say sarcastically, and Joel watches as you click the blade into the handle, before putting it in your pocket. 

"Outbreak day was the day before my 10th birthday," you explain, swallowing, hands clasping together in your lap, "My parents owned a convenience store in Fresno."

"California?" Tess interjects, frowning, "The hell d'you come all the way out here for?"

"It wasn't my choice," you tell her, sighing as you clear your throat, and Joel watches from his peripheral as you start to pick the skin around your nails. 

You’re nervous. 

"By some miracle, we lived through outbreak day. . . then, for a while, we were in the San Francisco QZ, but that didn't end well."

"We heard that all the way over here."

You nod, swallowing. "Fireflies. . . just like you have here, I guess, only more willing to risk collateral damage for the cause."

When neither Joel nor Tess speak, you clear your throat again. "San Francisco QZ wasn't always bad. . . it started out relatively okay, but more people just kept coming, and for some reason they handled it badly. I mean the center of the city was heavily fortified, and probably the safest you'd find on the west coast. . . but you had to get in there, first. Most people lived on the outskirts, and into the surrounding Bay Area. . . FEDRA still had some control. There was a fence for infected all the way across the Bay bridge, but it became the number 1 breeding ground for crime and squalor. . . and resistance. People were starving, poor, and angry, and looking for someone to blame."

"Recipe for disaster," Tess mutters, and you nod, swallowing hard.

"They ignored the Fireflies for a long time, they just let them do their thing, it was all mostly non-violent. I guess we got lucky, because they allowed my dad to run this little store right on the outskirts of the inner city. . . he used to let the Fireflies use the storefront to move goods easily in and out of the zone and the suburbs without treading on FEDRA's toes."

"Your dad was a firefly?" Tess interjects, one of eyebrows raised, but you can't decipher whether she looks impressed by or dismissive of the fact.

"No," you say, pointedly, "He believed in the cause, definitely. . . but he had us. . . he couldn't commit to it like others."

"Touching," Joel mutters, and your eyes deliver a stinging glare as you regard him, before taking another breath and looking away.

"The first time the Fireflies took a more radicalized approach to their resistance, I remember I was in the store. . . I would help my dad, and the FEDRA facility two blocks down got blown up by a car bomb from the street. . . 14 soldiers died, all teenagers that were training at the academy they had there."   

"Jesus," Joel lets out a sour breath, shaking his head as he looks away again for a second, eyes on the abandoned church. 

"I remember my dad arguing with some guys on our doorstep that night. . . the SF Fireflies had had a change of leadership," you explain, and Joel notices the way you wring your hands nervously as you tell them, his own arms crossed as he regards you. "He refused to help them any longer and they weren't pleased. . .they tried to threaten him but he wouldn't give in. I guess someone overheard the conversation in the street because when I got back from school the next day, he'd been arrested­–" your voice stalls in your throat for a second and Joel watches as you swallow, hard, before you continue, "­They hung him in the square, for everyone to see. . . I didn't find out until I walked past him on my way home from school." 

The silence that follows is heavy, and as you look down at your fiddling hands in your lap, Joel and Tess exchange a shocked look.

"I'm sorry," Tess offers after a second, and you nod. Even though you aren't looking at them, Joel watches as you swallow hard, your eyes blinking furiously, before you take a deep breath and look back up.

"Yeah, well–" you clear your throat again, offering a bitter half-smile, "I guess everyone's got a shitty story."

"What happened after that?" Joel asks, and you shrug.

"My mom enrolled me in the FEDRA academy a few months after that. . . I would spend weekends at home to see them, but most of the time, I was there. . . it's where I met Sam."

"Them?" Tess asks, and her tone is surprisingly gentle, and she watches as you swallow hard.

"Yeah, I had a little sister," you explain, nodding, "My mom was pregnant when the outbreak happened, and Grace was born a couple of months after outbreak day. . . she was 6 years old when my dad died."

"Are they here? In Boston?" Tess asks, and the minute you look at her, and she sees the pain in your eyes as you shake your head, she wishes she'd never asked.

"No, uh–. . . Gracie died of typhoid fever the next year, and my mom hung herself a few months after that– a couple of days after I turned sixteen."

Another silence follows as your purse your lips awkwardly, your eyes swimming with grief as your fingers pick at each other. Joel feels a familiar tightness in his chest; he wasn’t necessarily surprised you’d been through what could only be described as a pile of shit, but hearing it still stirred uneasy feelings for him as he thinks about his own loss. 

If Sarah had been alive, she would’ve undoubtedly told him to be nicer to you. 

Finally, Tess breaks the silence again.

"Why'd you come out here?" Tess asks, and you shrug. Joel watches as you blink furiously a couple of times, but when you clear your throat and look back up at them, he can still see the tears lingering in the corners of your eyes.

"Furthest away I could get," you admit, taking another breath, "The group of fireflies who took over San Francisco, they were out for blood. . . they hung as many FEDRA soldiers as they could get their hands on, young and old, and they didn't care who you were."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Tess breathes, and you nod.

"I hadn't worked for FEDRA for a while by that point, but–" you voice quiets in your throat as you press your lips together, "Let's just say I wasn't very popular."

"How'd you two get out of here?" Tess asks, and your eyes fall on Sam again.

"We managed to drive a truck up to Seattle, but they were having their own problems. . . we got separated in the mess of it all. . . Samuel managed to get out in a fleeing FEDRA convoy, and they relocated here. . . I walked."

"You what?" Joel lets out before he can stop himself, making no effort to hide the shock in his voice, "You walked? You walked from Seattle to Boston?" 

You shrug as you look between him and Tess. "Where the fuck was I gonna go otherwise? We'd agreed on Boston months before that. . . we'd heard it was better here."

Joel lets out a scoff, shaking his head. "That makes no fucking sense. . . How are you even alive?"

You shrug. "How is anyone alive? We're in the fucking apocalypse, dude. . . I guess my spite got me far."

"That's a lot of fucking spite to go on," Tess says, raising a single eyebrow disbelievingly, "How long did it take you?"

"To Boston? About two months, give or take," you tell her, and Joel lets out another scoff, shaking his head as his gaze rolls over the crowd again, but you ignore him, "Got lucky and found a bike somewhere on the border with Canada. . . cut the time in half."

An impressed expression crosses into Tess' eyes, and when you look to your side, Joel is frowning at you again, and you can tell from his eyes that he can't decide whether or not to believe your outrageous story.

"Look, believe whatever the fuck you want, but that's the honest to god truth," you say with a sigh, before getting to your feet as your eyes go from Sam back to Joel and Tess as you wipe your hands on your jeans uneasily,, “Do you need me here? Cause frankly I smell like shit and I need a shower.” 

Even to you, it sounds like a clear lie. 

Tess disguises her surprise well, but Joel can read her face because it mirrors his feelings. The unease in your face and voice at talking about your past is intriguing, and Joel can’t shake the feeling that hadn’t been the whole story.  

“As long as you’re back for the actual pick up,” she says, and you nod your head, “Cause I gotta go at 16:30, and if I leave Joel to it, the dude’s going to end up with two less teeth than he started rather than with a barrel of fertilizer.” 

You try to bite back the small smile that grows on your lips, but you don’t hide it well as Joel scowls at Tess. 

“Don’t deal in anger management meds, huh?” you ask, an ounce of your earlier cheekiness returning as you look at Tess, who snorts. 

“My life would be easier,” she comments, and you actually chuckle as you step away. 

“You two are real fuckin’ funny,” he says, his voice a deep but sarcastic growl, and you give Joel a furtive glance over your shoulder.

“All in good fun,” you shoot back, “See you later.” 

With that, you flounce off and down the street, fingers tapping nervously against your thigh as you start weaving through the people. 

The minute you’re out of earshot, Tess heaves a breath. “Jesus fucking christ.” 

Joel nods along with an agreeing hum, eyes meeting her stormy ones. 

“She can’t be a whole lot older than–”

“27,” Joel says quietly, clearing his throat as he looks at his feet for a second, not wanting to meet Tess’ intense stare, “She’d be two years younger.” 

The silence that follows is heavy, before Tess scoffs and shakes her head. 

“At 27 I was fucking my way through Detroit city,” she says with a raise of her eyebrows, “Not fighting for my life.” 

Joel makes a face. “Thanks for the information.” 

“What?” Tess asks, raising a single eyebrow as she looks at him, “You’re not a prude, Joel, so don’t act like one.” 

Joel’s eyes shoot her a warning look. Not an acceptable topic of conversation right now. 

Tess says nothing more, only the remnants of a cocky smile on her lips as she heaves a sigh, before her eyes zero back in on Sam. 

“What’s their deal?” she asks, practically squinting at him, “Are they together?”

Joel lets out a noncommittal grunt, shaking his head as he looks at Sam across the street. “No, I don’t think so.” 

“You don’t think so, or you don’t want so?” Tess asks him, and Joel can feel her eyes boring into the side of his face as he ignores her comment. 

“He invited her in one night, she said no.” 

Tess makes a face, sucking some air between her teeth. “Ouch.”

Joel nods and makes an agreeing hum, before he tears his eyes away from Sam and back to Tess with his usual, indecipherable stare. Her gaze is equally difficult to read as she stares right back at him, but says nothing before she looks away again with a breath. 

Eventually, Tess leaves for her job. Joel stands in the same spot, occasionally stretching out or sitting on the little wall when his back starts to protest too loudly, eyes trained on the church and occasionally going back and forth to Sam. He knows the soldier is watching him, too, but Joel doesn’t mind, expression unchanged and as surly as ever.  

You come back just after darkness has fallen, when the FEDRA checkpoint has had its last shift rotation and the people of the QZ have started retiring to their homes in time for curfew. 

“Have you not moved?” you ask Joel as you approach him, and it takes almost all of his willpower not to jump in surprise. He doesn't know how you'd snuck up on him that way, and makes a mental note to keep an eye out for you doing it in the future. 

Joel doesn’t answer you, just letting out a noncommittal grunt that makes you roll your eyes. 

“You’re not really a man of many words, are you?” you ask him, sounding bemused, and Joel gives you a look. 

“Trust me, I’ve got plenty of words for you,” he tells you, and your eyebrows raise as you put a mocking hand over your chest. 

“Still angry with me for fixing your watch? And solving your supply problem?” you ask him, batting your eyelashes.

“I never asked for you to fix my watch, sweetheart,” he replies in an aggravated tone.

Your lips plump ever so slightly into a mocking pout. “You’re hurting my feelings here, Joel.”  

Joel lets out a grunt. “Thank god I don’t give a damn about whose feelings I’m hurting.” 

“Taking your role as bitter middle-aged criminal very seriously, I can see,” you say with a snort, and Joel shoots you a glare, but you aren’t looking at him anymore. 

Your eyebrows knit together as you look at something, before your teasing expression falls away and it becomes guarded. “That your guy?” 

Joel turns to watch Peter approaching them from the end of the dark street. His lips are twitched into that same smile that gave Joel the creeps the first time he met him. He gives Joel a nod, and behind him, two young-looking guys come out of the alley, too. 

Joel is immediately on edge; the unnerving smile, the rifle one of the guys is wearing, coupled with the way all three men looked at you, sets him on high alert. 

“Hello there, Joel.” 

There’s a small crease in your brow at the tone of his voice as you come to stand level with Joel, who nods at the man. His whole body is tense as he stands as straight as he can, eyes never leaving Peter. He wonders whether you’ve noticed the change in the air yet, but he doesn’t want to stick around long enough for you to figure it out.

“We’ve got your fertilizer,” he grunts, nodding towards the church, and an impressed expression crosses Peter’s face. Then, he looks at one of the guys standing by his side, motioning with his head. The guy stalks off towards the abandoned church, as Peter looks back at you. 

“I gotta say I’m impressed, shit’s been real hard to get my hands on. . . didn’t think you’d have it in you,” Peter muses, before his eyes move from Joel to you, “Maybe it has something to do with this lovely lady, hm?” 

Joel doesn’t have to look at you to feel the shift in your demeanor as you stand next to him, and he watches your shoulders square from his peripheral and you give Peter a cold smile. 

“You’re smooth,” you remark, your tone tinged with sarcasm, “What do you need all this fertilizer for?” 

Peter’s smile becomes icy. 

“Putting your nose where it doesn’t belong gets people killed around here, honey,” he says, Joel feels something stir in his stomach at the sound of the nickname and the implicit threat, “But if you’re done asking questions, you're welcome to come with us for a drink. . . promise we’ll show you a real nice time.” 

Joel feels his fists balling up, and out of the corner of your eyes, you notice his shoulders tensing even more. 

“I’ll pass,” you say, almost immediately, raising a single unimpressed eyebrow, “As. . . appealing as that sounds.” 

Peter lets out a hum, shrugging his shoulders. “Your loss, honey.” 

Joel still doesn’t love the look in his eyes as they linger on you, running down your figure. 

At that moment, the man he’d sent to check on the merchandise comes back, giving a curt nod. “It’s all there.” 

“Great,” Peter says through a breath, before he pulls out another wad of ration cards tied together by some string. He tosses them at Joel. “That’s the rest of it.” 

Joel gives another silent nod, but he doesn’t check the ration cards, eyes instead trained steadfastly on Peter as he looks back at you, not wanting to take his eyes off this fucker for even a minute. Again, the twinkle in the guy’s eye gives Joel the creeps. 

“You got a home I can walk you to?” Peter tries again, but as you open your mouth to reply, Joel loses his cool. 

“She’s fine where she is,” he snaps, his voice steady but not any less threatening as he glares at Peter, who puts up his hands defensively. 

“Didn’t mean to tread on anyone’s toes,” he says in a nonchalant voice, calculating gaze moving between you and Joel, “Ain’t she a little young for you?” 

“That’s none of your business,” you snap at him, and you’re starting to sound more annoyed by the minute. 

“Let’s go,” Joel lets out in a low voice, and to your surprise, you feel his hand close around your forearm. It’s surprisingly gentle as he pulls you back, before showing Peter his back. 

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Peter calls after both of you, but Joel pays him no heed as he pulls you down the street with a hasty walk. 

“Dude,” you say when they’re out of earshot, shivering slightly as you pull your arm out of Joel's grip, “What is with that guy? He’s fucking creepy.” 

Joel gives an agreeing hum, nodding as he peers over his shoulder. “He’s definitely got an unnerving gaze.” 

“Understatement of the goddamn century,” you snort, before you frown as Joel follows you when you take a left in the alley towards your apartment. "What are you doing? You live the other way.” 

Joel peers over his shoulder again. “Walking you home.” 

You raise a single eyebrow. “I’m not helpless, Joel. . . I can walk myself home.” 

“I never said you were, trust me,” Joel says with a snort, remembering the press of your blade against his stomach like it was just yesterday, “But something tells me Ted Bundy's starving twin back there doesn’t react very well to being told no, and I don’t need your sudden unexplained disappearance on my conscience.” 

It takes a significant amount of your willpower not to say anything teasing, instead nodding. “Thanks.” 

You walk mostly in silence, but when you arrive at your street, you see that somebody is leaning against the building, arms crossed and clearly waiting. It’s Sam. 

“You’re a popular girl tonight,” Joel notes with a raise of his eyebrows as he slows down slightly, and you let out a small snort. 

“It has to do with my irresistible charm,” you tell him jokingly, raising your arms, “Half-dead and struggling to make ends meet. . . it’s the new sex.” 

You watch with some satisfaction as the corner’s of Joel’s mouth twitch slightly into what you can only assume would be a smile, before he stops completely, eyeing Sam. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” he says, giving you a look you can’t decipher, “I’m sure I’ll see you around.” 

You give a small nod, suddenly feeling a little awkward as you’re overcome with an urge to bid him goodbye in some way, but you don’t know how. Instead, you keep your hands by your side, swinging them awkwardly as you look back at Sam. 

“You know where to find me,” you say with a small chuckle, before heaving a breath, “Night, Joel.” 

Joel says nothing, just nods once at you, before he turns on his heel and disappears down the street, darkness swallowing him up. 

taglist:

apart from those of you who explicitly asked to be added, i also took the liberty of tagging some of you that showed interest in more parts (if you do not want to be tagged, please please let me know, in which case i apologize in advance for doing so!)

@tanushreeg27 @user1112223334449890171 @frecklefacelm @samarav @alyssiamarierenee @platinumblondeedition @huntersandpie @lizlil @lumpypoll @pedro-pascal-3nthusiast @phryne-fish @ponyboys-sunsets

as usual, replies, reblogs and likes are highly appreciated

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #the last of us