#from the fic that won't die | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

otterlyfoolish · 3 months

Text

Eat Crow

(Zombieman x GN!Reader)

Warnings: Mentioned Human Experimentation, Animal Death, Abandonment, Implied Child Abuse/Neglect, Swearing, Blood & gore (come on this is ZM), self-harm (ZM does some reckless things), there's probably other things in here that I can't think of right now so if you're particularly sensitive maybe you should just avoid this,

Tags: Pining, borderline romance, strangers to friends, maybe lovers (in the future), Reader is starved for any kind of companionship, Unstoppable force & Immovable object, oneshot, angst, comfort (very barely), open-ended ending, so much build-up for a fucking oneshot, not edited so sorry

Word count: 11k

Summary:

Zombieman had what he thought was a simple case: "Find the source of the toxins in the assigned area."

One of his specialities is investigating contaminated or toxic areas - places that only robots or cyborgs could reach, areas where organic matter struggled to make it out alive. Other heroes would be dispatched to a monster infestation, and he would be sent to the local ghost town. This was fine to him - he would describe himself as more of an investigator than a hero anyways. So, in one way, this task was like no other.

In another way, he's never seen a case as peculiar as this. A product of human experimentation, just like him. He's never really had a case like this before. Curiously, they didn't seem to want to admit it. He can't blame them for their decision either - especially not after he found out some reasons why. And it's not like he could have found out the normal way - after all, what's considered poisonous to a dead man?

So, he couldn't quite complete his investigation - at that point, he couldn't really confirm or deny his suspicions. That is until he saw their touch wilt a crow's life within seconds.

...Well, the crow is already dead. You just have to eat it now.

-----

Ao3 Link here, if you prefer reading there!

A/N: I'm mostly writing this to ward off my impulses for the other idea I have for ZM - I can't start another multi chapter fic on him when I've not even finished the other one I'm writing right now... (TBH if I just dedicated my time writing this into that, I might have been able to finish it... Uhhh I just won't think about that)

I've kept this on the drafts so long, but now I've finally vomited it out (I ran it through a spell checker, not even edited) - I hope that it's coherent because I struggle editing so much, and I don't know if I have it in me to make it more articulate than it is... Uhhh story isn't fluid sorry (>>_>>)

But if I used the wrong pronouns for the Reader (anything that's not they/them) please feel free to point it out since it is supposed to be Gender-Neutral!

---

"QUARANTINED AREA AHEAD"

"TOXIC WASTE NEARBY"

"LEAVE NOW"

The danger signs were littered everywhere.

From the very moment he even came near the location - even miles away, he was warned not to approach. As he got closer, the signs and fences only increased in frequency. Just a few caution signs at first, illustrated by the humble exclamation mark. Then the potentially comedic skull and bones - pirates would be overjoyed at the sight of so many of them. And finally the unnerving biohazard symbol appears. He's never liked the look of it - maybe because he doesn't understand what it was actually supposed to be, or maybe it reminded him too much of Dr. Genus' lab - the same symbols were also hung up everywhere, the scientist liked to be organised after all.

The final hurdle was in sight now - a chain-linked fence with barbed wires that had rust collecting on the bright red sign that hung brazenly on the door.

"DANGER: YOUR LIFE IS AT RISK FROM THIS POINT FORWARD"

He nodded at the final warning as if letting the inanimate object know that he acknowledges the danger, then swung his axe against the metal lock, easily snapping it in half. Time must have also wore the lock down, helping the process of decay because it behaved far too flimsy.

If most people showed me as much concern as these signs did, then I would be out of a job.

He pushes on the door, the hinges on the door creak loudly as if it was doing a drum roll for his demise. As he walks through, he's careful to shut the door behind him and lock it with another one - the one he brought in preparation for this. As he does so, he notices that the key for it must have fallen out on the way over. It was his fault for not repairing the hole in his pocket after tearing it from his last brawl.

No way out now I guess...

He takes the cigarette out of his mouth and rubs the cherry on the back of his hand before he drops it on the floor, crushing it with his black boots. Just as quickly as the cigarette left his mouth, another replaces it, the lighter coming up as if joined together with the cigarette. The nicotine was too addicting, he didn't mind the lethal poison that accompanied the chemical potentially affecting his body.

He's been critiqued on his bad habits by a fellow hero before, the smoke was just flat out unhealthy to have near people, so he should stop.

(He puts it nicer than what was actually said - Tatsumaki had gathered the all of the smoke in the room with her powers and stuffed it back into his lungs, hissing out hostile remarks as she did so. The product of a particularly bad day. Apparently she couldn't find any monsters to kill, and that caused her foul mood. It doesn't help that he was probably the closest thing to a monster she found that day.)

Even so, Zombieman couldn't disagree with the comments made, and though he never stopped smoking, the thought always flashed in his mind for the briefest of moments.

But this time he lit it without any guilt of others. This was a completely isolated area, where the air was already considered toxic to all organic matter. What's the harm of adding a little bit more poison in the air?

He dragged a large cloud of smoke out from his lips as he exhaled, almost like a sigh of relief from the long journey. Almost drearily, his eyes followed the grey mist drift through the air before it quickly dissipated into the atmosphere, the very last remnants of it lingered in one spot before fully turning transparent. His red pupils slowly fixated on that spot as he spotted the building he was headed towards.

...Break over. Back to work.

His arm slung the axe over his shoulder, resting the weight of the metal head in the crook of his neck as he continued his descent to his destination. He walked with calm confidence, not fitting of a man that's entering a toxic waste zone, but that suited him.

The thrill of an investigation was too addicting, he didn't mind about the dangers that had been constantly waved in his direction.

Perhaps the danger even added to the thrill of it.

-----

"Toxic waste land...? Hm." He murmured to himself as the read over the file they sent him. The low clicking of the train wheels was just as faint as his voice as he spoke. Zombieman positioned himself to a quiet corner of the fairly empty train, the folder in front of him messily sprawled out, but in a fairly controlled manner.

He had requested it to be in paper format, call him old-fashioned, but he viewed the information to be more tangible that way. Besides, he often breaks the phone the Hero Association provides him anyways. Once Child Emperor had leaped at the opportunity to make him an 'unbreakable' phone after hearing the staff members talk about how this was the 'fourth one this week', it had a pretty good run, but he still lost it in the end.

...It makes him feel bad to bother the kid for another one, so he'll just do this until Isamu notices and chucks him another. He'll treat it more carefully this time, he didn't realise just how much shitter the one's he gets from the Hero Association is. Isamu really was a genius, but he didn't want to pressure him too much.

He flips through the information provided, it was choppy. The testimonies didn't seem clear, and there wasn't a lot found by HA. Well, a lack of information never stopped him. His red eyes scanned the pages, picking up what he deemed the most vital snippets of data and committed it to memory.

"...Laboratory...", "...Mithridate...", "...Antidote...", "...Pancea...", "Dozens died from poisoning", "...Scientists Evacuate...", "...Local Town Falls Sick From Mysterious Illness...", "...Abandoned Area...", "...No Organic matter found in the vicinity..."

He concluded after reading it, there used to be a remote laboratory out this far that was focusing on creating strong antidotes. But it seemed that they weren't able to control it effectively enough, and apparently some sort of sample hadn't been contained properly had caused many of the scientists to die from poisoning. It seems that even though they tried their best to clean the place and dispose of the source, there was still trace amounts lingering and many workers became sick. The entire building was forced to evacuate - and a few years later, apparently some of the people that had lived nearby had to be admitted to the larger general hospitals. It started happening too frequently without any obvious cause and people started moving away. Satellite scans showed that the grass around this place slowly started dying, and bird avoided migrating near the area all together.

All in all, an typical case for him. He predicts the following days to be somewhat laid back. His only objective was to find what was the source. The implication in that was that he didn't even have to get rid of it, only report back.

There was something bothering him though. Like when you feel your feet shift a little too much - you're nervous but you don't know why. Or when you felt a pair of eyes watching you, but you couldn't place who in the crowd of people would spend so much time on you.

Current suspicion: There was something more to this case.

They could simply send one of their many drones to check out the area, scope out if there's a leak that's causing the increase of toxins detected. But they sent him.

His first thought: They suspected there was a monster there, and wanted him to kill it.

He could do that, they often do when they're worried about a particularly dangerous monsters most heroes couldn't defeat without wearing it down massively. But they didn't say anything in the report - they kept it hidden from him. To feign ignorance of the missing piece of the puzzle before even asking him for assistance.

...But why?

He's never shown hesitation to brutalise monsters. It's written in his fucking Encyclopedia page - something Bang had showed him after his disciple had pointed it out to him, and the old man just had to pass on the message, chuckling at the descriptors. Something something about how gore and death followed him or something along those lines.

...Is it related to Dr. Genus?

He clenches the paper a little too tightly, crumpling the otherwise pristine pages. The Hero Assocication might have had an inkling to his past. He never talked about it much, but did they find out? He wouldn't put it pass them - staying private in this day and age was getting more and more difficult by the day even if it would do both parties good if they stayed in their own lane. If they did know about his days of being an experimental sample, why were they assigning him to this case?

...Was this their way of turning their cheek the other way? By letting him confront his own past alone?

"...Sir?" He hears the train conductor walk over to him, nervously eyeing him up as the scowl on his face grows deeper at the thought of meeting the Doctor again. "This is the last stop." He hears as he snaps out of his thoughts, tilting his head up to look at the lady.

"...Thanks."

"...Are you sure about getting off here? There's nothing for a few dozen miles..."

"I'm sure. Thank you." He said, picking up the axe he had placed on the wooden floorboards, but didn't raise it above his head to rest on his shoulder like usual. Instead, he kept the metal head close to the ground, the blade pointed towards him and never her. He didn't want to alarm the lady.

"No, it's fine... I've not seen someone get off at this stop for perhaps a couple years now... It's nice to see people still come here in this little corner of the world - you know there's a forest a hour or so west from here? Beautiful place, you should check it out." She rambled on, the smile on her face causing the corners of her eyes to wrinkle. "Used to go there when I was young, took this same train out. I'm just a little too old for that now."

He nodded politely at her, taking note of the sun spots speckled on her skin. "...You're still younger than me, so there's no need to talk like that."

Besides, it's a privilege to be able to age. I'm sick of looking at the same damned thing everyday.

"Oh, aren't you a charmer..." She laughed, slowly escorting him down over to the train doors. He trotted after her, his boots made a small sound with each step he took. "Don't forget, the next time this train will be here is at eight tonight. Don't be late or you'll have to spend the night camping." She said, only getting a simple nod from him before the doors closed on her.

...A forest? I guess the toxins or whatever hasn't spread that far yet then...

As he walked away, he raised his axe back up and slammed it back on his shoulder, resting it there. Something of an reminder that he's on duty.

He's grown used to the weight of the axe.

-----

The building is fairly large - almost industrial. He could see it as a speck in the distance, but as he approached, he see that it's size wasn't anything much to be scoffed at. Definitely not at big at the ones he's seen at HA, but still, impressive.

As he approached the laboratory, he could see a... Fully-clad yellow figure running full speed at him.

Like second nature, he pulled out the guns from his sleeves and swung his axe back down to his midsection, his palms tightly gripping the weapons. It couldn't be a civilian - they would be fatally ill at this point from being this close to the site.

His blood-coloured eyes scanned the person (or perhaps monster) sprinting up at him. At closer inspection, he could tell that it was a human wearing a hazmat suit.

...Zombieman slowly retracted his desert eagle back into his trench coat and the axe also returned to its last position. There didn't seem like there was an danger yet, more so someone he needs to interrogate.

...Maybe there's still some people working here without anyone knowing?

They were... waving at him? He raised his thin eyebrow at them, shifting over to a more relaxed stance than before. He waited for them to approach - and as this mysterious figure got closer, he could hear muffled shouting from them as their hand waving in the air got more frantic. He noted that in their other hand, there was a blue gas mask.

He debated snuffing out his cigarette, but kept it in his mouth. It's not like they would be affected judging by the protection they're already wearing.

By the time they were close enough to him so that he could hear their words, it didn't matter since they were huffing out their lungs trying to breath in as much air as they could. Sprinting must have been hard - the hazard suit and heavy boots didn't help do them any favours either.

"...Are you alright?" He asked, staring down at him as they doubled over. The sound of their heavy breathing was clear even through the thick suit.

Regardless of their exhausted state, they sluggishly yanked him down to their level and slapped the spare gas mask onto his face. "...uckING STUPID!"

The impact of the plastic against his face caused him to glare at them with squinted eyes as he took the mask. He didn't bother dodging it - it's not like the action was malicious anyways. The force of which the firm plastic wasn't painful enough for him to make a noise, but he still grunted from the shock of their actions. "...What'd you say?"

They didn't respond, seeming satisfied with the fact he taken the respirator from them already and just crumpled back over on their form. He gave them a moment to gather their breath. "...Don't you know that this is a toxic area...? What the hell are you doing without any equipment...?"

He crouches down to their level, seeing as they were still catching their breath and he couldn't quite hear between their suit and the small distance. "I don't need it. What are you doing here?"

They tilted their head over to him, seeing that he had taken the blue mask off and just hung it around his neck by the strap. "...I live here."

Live? Not work?

"...Then don't you know that this is a toxic area?" He parroted the question back to them, trying to look into their eyes, or face, only to see that the glass they see out of is a reflective surface. Only his red eyes locked on with his own. His

"The inside of my house is safe, when I go out I wear this." There's something about the way in which they said it which made him think that they had rolled their eyes at him as they spoke.

"House?" He brushed off their attitude quickly, he didn't really care about it to begin with anyways, "what house?"

"Why would I tell a stranger where I live?" They snapped back, getting back up on their feet. Zombieman quickly followed suit. "What are you doing here anyways?"

"I'm a Hero. I've been sent here to find the source of the poison in this area." As if on cue, their head tilted at him in disbelief. He goes on to answer further, hoping it would dispel any more of their suspicion. "...You can call me Zombieman."

He could tell even without any facial expressions to help him nothing he said was convincing. "...Alright, 'Hero Zombieman'... If you've been sent here to investigate, then why didn't they send you off with any equipment with you? We both know that this isn't the safest place to be."

A reasonable question, he supposes. He just hopes that the answer he gives them is just as logical in their eyes. "I can't die - hence my name."

"...Can't die?" They repeated slowly, taking a few steps back from him. He could see the distrust in their body language, and he wanted to fill the gap quickly - they probably had a lot of information on this area he didn't. "...Don't lie to me, everything dies."

He nodded at them, trying to indicate that he acknowledges their suspicion then pulled his gun back out. They're not given much time to react to it, as the muzzle was pointed at his temple, his finger on the trigger. "I'll prove it."

Just as he pulled the trigger ever so slightly, he notices in that split second they've close the distance between them instantly. Their hands shooting out to tear the weapon out of his hands-

Only for him to tilt it ever so slightly upwards from its original position in surprise - instead of the bullet going through his skull at a straight line, it was just angled slightly differently, shooting through the top of his skull.

They froze up at the sight - the pink of the bone and the pink of his brains, the smell of blood was thick and metallic. They could smell it even through their suit, and nothing about their protection could block the sight of his hand. Limp. In your grasp.

Zombieman examined at them from the corner of his eyes, feeling that their hands was trembling slightly through the thick gloves they wore. It was from either the sight of his skull being blown open or the fact they thought he was now dead.

...I wanted to close the gap between us, but not physically...

"...Proof enough?" He asks, moving his head to face them. They practically leaped back, even in the chunky boots and protective gear they were wearing, they found themselves a couple feet even further than before.

...Was that too much?

No, I only shot myself. That's nothing.

...Am I too numb to gore compared to the average person?

"...Yeah. Yeah. I believe you." They say, their voice shaking as they watched the hole slowly fill itself back up again. First the grey matter in the brain, then the pink plating of the skull, and finally his pale skin and dark hair. It was as if nothing had ever happened - the only proof that they had was the dark streaks of blood that ran down his temple and the small splatters of flesh that had ended up on them. They did their best to quickly compose themselves."...So... Uhm... Do- do you need anything...?"

He nodded, feeling a twinge of guilt at their reaction. Yeah, it was too much to witness. Next time, he'll just cut his hand off or something. "Could you get me into that laboratory? I want to inspect it to see if I can find anything inside."

"...I can do that, follow me." They agreed, probably still in shock and stiffly placed one foot in front of the other, their hands having the same nature of movement - almost mechanically.

He was quiet for a minute, looking around the building. He wanted to ask more questions about them, but he had a feeling he needed to build back some sort of foundation of trust again if he wanted any good answers. Short, snippy ones aren't bad, but more detail is better this time.

"...What's your name?" He starts off simple.

They slowly moved their head over in his direction, stopping in their tracks. He briefly thinks for a moment that asking for that was too soon, but when he hears your name slowly uttered from your lips the thought is gone. He could sense the uncertainty of his character coming off in waves, but you still chose to tell him.

He nodded, "I'll keep that in mind."

"...And I don't think I'll be able to forget yours." He could hear you mumble faintly as you took long strides over to the entrance door. "Mr. 'Can't die'..."

...I don't mind if you were able to find a way to change that name of mine.

He didn't correct your words, and accepted his newfound alias. "How come you have access to the lab?"

It took you a while to respond, at first he just thought you didn't hear him or maybe you were busy fiddling with the keypad on the door, but it seems that you were considering telling him or not.

...Zombieman lowered his axe, resting it at his side. He may still be on duty, and it's not even the weapon he used to shoot himself, but it's not like he needed it this very moment. And if it helped soothe your worries even a little, then it will have been worth it.

When you get the door open, you turn back around to face him. He still can't see your eyes, but he could feel yours staring at him - cautiously inspecting him and his intentions before opening the door. "...This is where I live." You answered him.

...Huh, it worked.

He hummed appreciatively through his cigarette, reaching up and holding the door open for you. You paused your movements for a moment and nodded back, "...Thanks."

"No problem." He replied back, then followed after you, shutting the door after himself. When he walks in, he realises that the entrance is double sealed - one door after another to ensure that as little toxic gas leaves or enters. "So, you live in a lab...?" He says, practically repeating already known information in the hopes you'll slip out a little more data for him to piece together.

"Mhm. There's lab equipment everywhere." You say, though not intentional, your tone was pretty dismissive. It makes him wonder if he should play the long game or the short game.

He sticks to the former - besides, if he's really pressed up for time for whatever reasons, he can resort to more... forceful methods.

You open the other door, pressing even more buttons on the security system before beckoning him to follow through, holding the door open for him. "Quick - if you're there for too long, the doors will automatically shut and won't open without a special password."

"Oh." He nodded, the sounds of his boots increasing before the heavy door clicked securely shut. The two of you were now locked in together - he wonders if you're more anxious than him about the situation. One hand hand, he could be locked in with a mad scientist and be subjected to experimentation once again. On the other hand, he was a man that doesn't exactly have any indication of sane mental health paired with the fact he has a fair variety of weapons on his person ready to go any moment.

...They should be more scared than me.

"Do you work here?" He asks, trying to place down the foundations of trust.

"Yeah...?" You say, your thick gloves grabbing the other and pulling them off. "I'm... something of a researcher. Or something along those lines." The way you said it could be viewed as avoidant, or simply distracted - judging by the way your now exposed hands was fiddling with the hazard suit, taking it off and throwing them into a large plastic container off to the side of the door. Presumably to be disinfected and reused. "I've just been told to stay here until the toxins reach an acceptable level. Then I'm free to leave."

He narrowed his eyes at you, taking mental notes on your choice of words and actions. It was entirely unconscious behaviour, akin to second nature - Zombieman was already crafting a mental corkboard of everything he knew about this place and you. You took the final piece off, your large headpiece, finally revealing your face to him.

His eyes fixated on you, his red irises re-examined your figure, taking new mental notes to add to his corkboard. His eyes found their way following a sweat drop that traced the side of your face, a small trail of liquid trailed down your facial features before the head of it became too small to follow anymore. He briefly wondered it that sweat was a shade or two darker than it was supposed to be, but concluded that it was just the lighting of the room. "...Hot in that thing, huh?"

"...Huh? Oh, yeah. I guess I'm not really used to it..." You say, not noticing him observing you.

...Not used to the hazmat suit, I don't recognise them from the list of scientists provided, and they're uncertain about their role.

Current thoughts: You've turned out more suspicious than he thought.

-----

Nervously, your eyes kept glancing over to him, drinking in every detail of him that you could with each glance. At first, you thought it was the glass of your suit playing tricks on your vision when you spotted his red eyes, but even when you took your headpiece off and looked over him again, they were still red.

Blood red, to be more specific, especially now that you had a very, very recent reminder of the colour of blood.

His skin was almost porcelain white, but there was something of a grey undertone to it. His hair was a ink black and his getup didn't have a single drop of colour - the only thing you could even perhaps suggest that had a hue was the buckles of his (many) belts strung tightly against his chest. Everything combined, this monochrome sense of fashion contrasted with his striking red eyes and dark eye bags made it incredibly easy for you to focus on his face. Basically a sinkhole of attention.

Zombieman... From that name, you'd expect more decay, but...

...He's handsome. You concluded, as you kept finding your eyes shifting over to him as you showed him about the place. But he's also scary. Why would he shoot himself to prove a point...?

"Are you gonna show me around...?" He asked after what must have been you staring a little too long at him.

"Sorry." You say, turning your head away from him. Despite looking at him so carefully, you couldn't pick up on his mild discomfort. You try to remedy the situation, giving a honest reason to your actions should suffice, right? "...I was just thinking that you're very visually appealing."

The answer seems to shock him, or at the very least, throw him off his feet a little. His eyes widened at your response before he tilting his face slightly to his right clearing his throat into the sleeve of his trench coat. His left hand seemed to tighten his grip around his axe. "...Thank you."

You think that you shouldn't have said that - was he uncomfortable? You don't really have much of a chance to interact with people, and it's leaves you wondering your next move.

...Should I apologise? What did I do wrong? Is there such thing as too honest?

On quick glance back up at him, tells you that if he did feel uncomfortable by you, he's recovered. He's leaning against the plain white walls with his axe by his side. You note the fact he still hasn't raised it back onto his shoulder - whatever the reason for this, it somewhat made you feel more relaxed.

"...Uh, I'll take you around the first floor first...? It's mostly just like laboratory equipment, but it might help you?" You say, trying to gauge his reaction.

He simply nodded, and as you took your first step, so did he. You glanced back to see that he was a step or two closer behind you than before as you walked down the large white hallways.

...I hope that he leaves soon.

Just before you stepped through into another set of doors, there was a few equipment littered on the walls of the lab. Coats, gloves, masks. Though, you've used and ruined most of them at this point.

Please, please, leave.

You watched him place down the gas mask you had given him earlier alongside the other ones lined up on the wall for anyone to take. The others were faulty at this point, the one he put back down was one of the only ones that still functioned at this point.

It's not safe here, even for you.

-----

"...That thing..." You say, gesturing to him, your index finger waved over his face a couple times. "...smells terrible. Do you need it or something?"

He raised one eyebrow at you, wondering if his breath smelt for a moment before realising what you were saying. "...My cigarette?" He asked, taking it out of his mouth, bringing it a little closer to you to confirm your request. Your lips tightened and your eyebrows narrowed at the distance decreasing. So it is. "I suppose that I don't need it."

"Yeah, that... cigarette." You say, slowly rolling the word out on your tongue as you took a step back. "If you don't need it, can you get rid of it? There's vents all over the place, but I'm worried that smell will linger if you keep using it."

"...Sure, do you have an ash tray or something of that kind?" He asked, rubbing the lit part of the cigarette over the back of his hand. The burning sensation felt like it was shorter each time - the initial burn from the very first time he put out his smoke was almost exciting to feel. Now, it feels like pointless rebellion.

You looked at him, blinking. It took you a second to respond to him, trying to think of what would be suitable. Your eyes glanced around the room, landing on the shelf of conical flasks, before the blanket hung up on the wall that's placed there in case of a fire emergency.

...He thinks he likes the way your features scrunched up as you rapidly skimmed through all of the available items. You looked like you were in in deep thought over something rather minor - maybe he likes the way you took him so seriously, or was it the way you were so confident you could find a replacement within the confines of the room within seconds?

It didn't take you too long to find something. "...There's sand bins. Will that do?"

"Mhm." He nodded, and you walked over to the bucket filled with sand - presumably, it was to put out fires, but it could also be repurposed for a more crude use. Your hands wrapped around the bucket's handle, planning to bring it over to him, but he simply just followed after you and smothered the cherry into the sand. There was no chance of it catching fire now.

You nodded at him, then pointed at another table with glass equipment on top, giving a rather detail explanation to him as you picked up different parts - he was barely listening, his mind quickly filing away this odd morsel of information about you as he got back to his actual work.

...Have they never seen a cigarette before?

I mean, public smoking places are less and less common nowadays, but still...

He thought your behaviour was strange, but it'd be rude to point out. He let you continue guiding him around the lab. Besides, if you felt comfortable enough to tell him to stop smoking, then you must be somewhat amicable towards giving him more intel.

-----

The two of you finish the tour of the first floor, and you glanced over to the clock on the wall. "...I'm gonna head off to lunch. You can join if you want." You say, walking away from him and into another room. He peered in - seems like a break room for staff. He debated joining you, or wandering off on his own to investigate.

The former wins as he argues that he could just wander about later. It didn't seem like you were rushing about to get him to leave quickly anyways. If anything, he'd say you enjoyed the company judging by how he often caught you waiting for him to catch up when he spotted something of interest. Or when you stared at him intently when he spoke, taking his questions to heart.

...Or it could be for another reason. Tons of people flocked to Amai Mask for one big reason, Zombieman just... never suspected he'd be on the receiving end of the same kind of attention.

...'Visually appealing.' What is that supposed to mean?

As he enters the break room, he spots you waiting patiently by the microwave. There's a rather large pile of delivery boxes collected in the corner of the room. Perhaps one would feel shame at a 'guest' of sorts seeing the mess, but you didn't seem to care much. Upon noticing him, you opened the microwave door and added another packet of food.

I guess I'm eating too now.

He stands next to you, pretending to also wait for lunch, but in reality he just stared at you from the corner of his eyes. It doesn't take you long to return the action, your pupils also shifting over to his direction.

The two of you share eye contact until you turn away and go back to staring at the packets of food spinning around in the microwave. He lets out something of a cough, then goes to check his phone, (It's not like the could just whip out the files he had brought with him right in front of you anyways), maybe you were on the lists of scientists, and he just doesn't remember you that well.

Your eyes are casted away from your lunch, catching the glimpse of movement in the corner of your eyes. "...Whoa, you have a real nice phone..."

He tilts his head up at you, then turns the screen off before giving his device a quick spin for you to see if you wanted. You nodded at this, as if you were some sort of phone collector inspecting the goods before buying.

"No," he shakes his head, giving it a closer inspection as he spun it despite already giving it a verdict. "It can't even withstand falling off a skyscraper."

"...I don't think that's a good way to measure it." You say, a ghost of a smile on your lips. "Here." You fiddled with your pockets, before pulling out what he thinks is a brick at first as you carelessly held it out to him. "Here's one I found a couple years ago. Under my Dad's desk."

"...Maybe I do have a nice phone." He says, staring down at the device as you let out a small laugh out at him.

The phone was pretty old.

The equipment in the lab also looks quite old, but I don't know enough about it to know if it's actually old, or if it's just old compared to Isamu's hoard of equipment.

It seems like you had enough money to deliver food to yourself, but not enough to fund your research. You probably aren't being paid.

Probably because you aren't a real researcher.

But his conclusion just brings more questions than answers - why would you stay out here if you aren't getting paid well? You've been tasked with staying here until the toxins have subsided, but why would you do that? Money clearly wasn't the reason - maybe it was something more personal. His eyes meandered across the room until it landed.

Maybe it was your Dad.

"...Say, your dad worked here too?" He asks, slowly reaching out to take the phone from you, feigning fake interest in the device in your hands. His cold fingers brushed against your skin making your breath hitch - practically throwing the phone away from yourself.

He caught it before it collided against the surface of the table, but he wasn't even looking at the phone anymore as his eyes shifted over to you, examining your body language quickly to figure out what caused that reaction from you.

You held one hand in the other, your eyes fixated on him, one foot back and holding your breath as if you were waiting for one of you to drop on the floor. The two of you shared a look, the room sinking into a tense quietness. Just as he was about to speak, apologise, anything that felt right to say, you babbled something to dispel the tension.

"O-Oh! Yeah!" You exclaimed, slowly taking your footing back to it's original position. He didn't care so much about the answer anymore after your reaction but still, he listened. "My mother did too. Uh, both of them worked together. H-here."

"Huh..." He nodded, accepting the fact the two of you will skip past that moment. He felt his hand tingle from where your skin touched it - it was almost the same sensation as the one he used to get when pressing the lit part of the cigarette against his skin. Burning, hot. Maybe painful to a normal person but an fleetingly exciting moment to him. "And then you started working here too?"

"...Uh, yeah. Been here for a long time." You say, the words slow to come out. Your eyes drifted away from him and your hand slowly reached back over to the phone he had caught and placed on the table before retracting it back into your pockets. "Actually, I've been here... for a really long time."

He nodded, "how long?"

You didn't answer him at first, only tilted your face over to his direction. You looked... lost. Like you weren't sure what you were doing, or what's even going on. A sense of distant confusion with a vague or faraway goal. "I... don't know."

He frowned. You didn't seem like you were bad-intentioned, but you also seemed like a vital part of this mystery. "How come?"

You pursed your lips, turning away from him again before the microwave went off. The beeps echoed through the silence of the lunch room.

"...Lunch is ready." You say, opening the door of it. "You don't have any allergies do you?"

"No, but even if I did," he made some sort of general motion towards himself. You made a 'Ohh' sound. Some colour returned to your face that he didn't quite realise had left it.

...They don't know? How is that possible?

Also, their parents worked here, and now they do as well. They're most likely staying here not out of choice - are they trapped here? Threatened to stay? Guilt? You couldn't pay most people to stay in such a dangerous area.

"I've just been told to stay here until the toxins reach an acceptable level. Then I'm free to leave."

...What kind of messed up family business is this?

Zombieman could only see the rabbit hole grow deeper the longer he looked in - yet he'll jump head first anyways. He was never much for self preservation.

That same trait comes the thought: if he touches your hand again will it burn the same thrilling way?

-----

After you showed him around the whole lab, he concluded that there was nothing there was still working - and even if there was, it wasn't anything large-scale enough to cause such a large waste area. In fact, the only experiment he saw was you spitting into a test tube and then running it through a machine. Something to do with how it can detect what kinds of chemicals are inside it.

But that machine was clearly broken since he recognised many of the listed items inside to be toxic. You had explained that you had fixed it up after finding it in the storage room, but since that room wasn't well maintained, there was a chance that the toxic air was just stuck inside it now. At least, that's the conclusion you came to, and he didn't see a reason to deny it.

Apart from that, it was mostly you just explaining what each room was and the equipment inside. The tour was over quicker than he thought - but there truly wasn't anything noteworthy. The past researchers had taken all of the papers with them, so he couldn't snoop around to see if there was any information he was missing. It didn't seem like you were trying to hide anything either. You've always seemed like you were honest - perhaps a little apprehensive, but most of that was mostly because, well, he was a stranger in your home.

"That's all... I think I'll get going to bed soon, do you need anything or..."

"No, that's all." He said. "I think I'll get going."

"...At this time?" You ask, seeing him walk out to the door, trying to open it. His hands pressed randomly against the wall's buttons. Quickly, you walked over to him. "Are you going home?"

"I've missed the train, so I can't really go back, but I've been given a recommendation to visit a forest." He says, watching you as you brushed his hands aside to help him open the sealed doors. It burned like before, "I think I'll go check it out," he thinks he wants to feel it again."...Then I'll probably come back with a fresh mind."

"...Seriously?" You asked, pulling the door open for him. "You're gonna spend the nights in the woods?"

"Well, it takes a while to walk over. By the time I get there, it might be sunrise." He says, walking through the first set of doors. Your eyes nervously switched between him and the door, unsure if he was really going to walk back out into the toxic wasteland. "Thanks, I'll see you tomorrow. Or if I find the source of the poison, this will be the last you'll be seeing me."

"...Yeah. That's... fine." You nodded, now trotting over to him, hand hovering over the keypad to let him out. The inner set of doors shut tightly behind you, a slight hissing sound as the air was compressed in the room, ensuring that none of the toxins got in as the vents whirred faster in anticipation. "Here, I'll let you go."

He paused, looking over at you. "Don't you need your hazmat suit?"

Your index finger stopped over one of the buttons as you started pressing the password to get out. "...No, it'll be fine. My parents said that I have a higher immunity to this sort of stuff anyways."

"...Okay, if you say so." He nodded, accepting your words. Every rotting bone in his body was screaming that there was something off about the way you said it, but his heart didn't utter a single peep in protest. He wonders if you're hiding the truth from him judging from his physical reaction to your words.

You nodded back at him, your eyes flicking back up at his for one more time before the door opens, a small gust of wind blew his hair back a little as the heavy entrance opened itself - exposing the two of you to the chilly evening air. "...It's nice meeting you." You say, your words as distant as you could muster with your almost wistful expression.

"...You too." He nodded simply, taking a step out, his boots landing on the dirt footing outside. He paused then turned his head back, speaking again as if he couldn't leave without finishing his all of his thoughts. "Real pleasure to meet you."

You blinked at him repeatedly, taken aback. There was... a slight smile on his face? You weren't given a chance to respond back before the doors let out loud 'beeps' rapidly and the doors slammed down.

He turned back around, taking a couple steps forwards as he languidly pulled out a cigarette and his lighter. His eyes casted over the cherry of the cigarette, watching it catch a flame as he took in a deep, slow breath, inhaling as much of the smoke he could. Impatient, he'd usually call himself for trying so hard to get the taste of the poison as quick as he did just moments after lighting it. It's just getting him more hooked on the nictotine (if he could be anymore addicted), it'll kill him faster (if he could die). But this time he won't fault himself even with all the negatives.

Smoking won't help relieve this... feeling, but it won't make it worse either, he supposes.

His boots forcefully move his body forward as he let out a low grumble.

Move. He urges himself. This is ridiculous. I barely know them.

"Wait!" He heard from behind him, and he found his head turning around without his input. "...I have some sort of car in the lab. Do... you want me to drive you to the forest...?" You ask, holding something of a car key attached to the lanyard around your neck, jangling the sliver object.

...Zombieman knows that it's not the first time you smoke you become addicted. It's the second time.

"Yeah, that's be great." He responses, the cigarette practically falling out of his mouth as he spoke, but he barely cared, only catching it in his hands and crushing it in his palm. It burned - but he barely felt it.

He didn't know that infatuation worked in a similar way to chemical addiction.

-----

You drove him over to the forest, his voice quietly murmuring out the directions for you to drive him. He had made some sort of comment on the car being a off-road vehicle, but you didn't fully get what he was trying to say.

The interior of the car was cold, the heater was very slowly warming it's way up. He insisted that it didn't bother him, but even so, you tried cranking that bloody thing up all the way. There's not much fuel in the car to begin with, but you didn't mind using it on him. It's not like you were going to be driving again.

"Keep going straight, try to avoid that rock if you can." He says, his hand motioning towards the obstacle on the ground.

"O-okay..." You nodded, trying your best to keep the car steady. There was practically sweat dripping down your arms from your nervousness. "Like this...?"

"Mhm." He nodded, "do you not drive often?" He asked, noting your anxious features that was crawling it's way up your face.

"No, uh, can- can you tell...?" You say, pressing the accelerator a little harder, making the car go faster.

"Well, we've been either going 20 or quadruple that. You've not really decided on a constant speed to drive at." He said, pointing a finger at the speedometer. "Also, I've been the one controlling the stick shift since you keep putting it in the wrong one."

"...Ah."

"I think you don't even know how to drive, but I don't really mind." He says, leaning his arm out the window as he blew out another cloud of smoke out of the vehicle. "You got the air bags, so you'll be fine even if we crash."

"...Maybe I'm just a really bad driver." You mutter, feeling your face grow hot even in the cold breeze that came in through the window.

"It's not a maybe." He says, turning back to you, "but it doesn't matter. I appreciate your help. I'll teach you how to drive for real after we get to the forest."

You raised an eyebrow at him, "You can drive?"

"...Eh." He makes a non-committal sound until you shot him a questioning glance, making him answer you properly. "...I don't have a valid licence, but I can drive."

"...So you're just as qualified as me?" You laughed, "or perhaps just as unqualified as me?"

"No, I've passed before. It's just that I've not driven in so long I don't know if I pass the current standards." He answers, maybe a little quickly as you chuckle at his explanation, not exactly buying his answer. "I should still be valid to drive."

"What are you, a old man?" You laughed, the car slowing down as your foot released the pedal, your mind too distracted by what he just said to properly process both things at once. "How could your licence just expire?"

"I had a licence before I was used for human experimentation and I've not had the time to try to renew it." He answers causally, taking in another breath of the smoke before breathing it back out. "I think."

You almost completely stopped the car before turning your head back over to him. "...Huh?"

He turns back to you, staring back into your eyes as your face grew pale at his words, unsure of what to say in response to him. "It's not a secret. I just don't talk about it."

"...Oh." You nodded, then took your hands off the wheel and your foot off as well. "...Is that why you can't die?"

"...Yeah." He nodded, then blew out one last cloud of smoke before he rubbed the light out on his skin again. There wasn't a moment of hesitation between his actions and words - he's too used to the pain he inflicts on himself. The slightest pink tinge on his skin from the burn is gone within less than a second.

The car let out a splutter, filling in the silence that took place in the car. Then stopped dead in it's tracks. "...Uh oh." You glanced down at the screen in front of you, trying to see what went wrong. "...I think we're out of fuel."

"...Mhm. Yeah." He agreed, glancing over to you. "It's fine, we're mostly there anyways." He says, nodding his head forward as he indicated towards your destination.

Your eyes casted over to the view in front of you - you didn't even realise until he pointed it out, but the two of you reached the forest he was guiding you to earlier.

It was dark, the bark of the trees was jet black against the faint light that shone down on the trees. You could barely see past them to see their fellow family. You've never seen them before in person - it was much larger than you had expected. The air smelt... clean.

Even so, it doesn't keep your attention for long as you looked back over to the man next to you. His pale skin contrasted strongly against the darkness outside, his red eyes shifted over to you, and you could pick up on the slight tinge of metal from the dried blood from earlier.

He didn't look human. He didn't have the warm undertones of blood running underneath people's skins. His response to pain was too lukewarm. He had no reaction to being in such grave danger. 'Zombieman' fit him.

"...Shall we go?" He offers, clicking open the car door for him to leave. "You can stay if you want."

"...No, I'll join you."

But he was still far, far more human than you were.

-----

The two of you wandered out into the woods. You flicked your flashlight on while he bravely moved forward in the dark, unafraid of any possible dangers that would be lurking in the woods.

"...Are you looking for something in particular?" You asked, your eyes flicking back over to him as you carefully shined down towards the ground to see where you were placing your heavy-duty boots.

"No." He replied back, still moving like a man on a mission. "The train conductor said that I should drop by here if I had time. I have time."

"...Do you think you'll find your source of poison?" You asked, your voice wavering towards the end, almost backpedalling last second in the hopes he didn't hear you.

He tilted his head backwards, glancing back towards you when you asked. "...I think it's from your home. I just don't know how yet."

*...How honest.

Well, I suppose that he doesn't really have anything to be afraid of anything he can't die. There's not much reason for him to lie.

"...I see." You nodded, your palms feeling slightly clammy after his answer.

...I wonder if he opened up about his past in the hopes that I'd also be more honest with him.

He continued to stride ahead, not taking any particular detours, walking in a straight line forward as he dragged his axe across the ground. It was still low to the ground.

...I hope not. Because I think it's working.

Then, you heard a branch snap off in the distance. You froze up instantly, your feet stuck on the dirt as your head swung over in the direction of the noise as you tried to find the source.

Finally, Zombieman stopped walking, standing still as he tilted his head in the same direction as the sound, the two of you almost perfect mirrors of each other.

"...We have company." He says, as he takes a step over to the sound, swinging his axe upwards to lean rest on his shoulder as he began to stroll over. You think you heard the metallic 'click' of his gun as well. "Let's give them a proper hello."

You flicked your head back and forth, from him to off in the distance of where the car was. Even if your vehicle couldn't move and was useless, you'd still rather go and hide in there over wherever the hell he was waddling off to. "C-Can we not...? If I die, I die."

He didn't acknowledge you maybe he didn't hear, only pressing on and got further and further away from even as the flashlight didn't reach that far ahead. You flipped a coin in your head to decide your choice to join him or leave. You mentally cursed yourself. Repeatedly.

...I guess I'm going too...

Even your feet protested against your brain's decision, but you ignored it and willed them to go on.

It didn't take long for him to stop in front of a bush, looking down at the source of the sound. You think that he's already taken care of the problem before you step past the shrub blocking your vision to see what he was looking at.

"...That's a crow...?" You murmured, your eyes fixed on the bird struggling to get off the ground - there was a sense of pure curiosity even at the sight of the animal in pain. "It's... small."

Zombieman barely paid attention to your words - it wasn't that he didn't find them interesting, it's just that he want to focus his efforts on something else right now.

"Mhm, it might be young." He nodded as he stepped out from behind the shrub. The bird started letting out sounds - perhaps to try to warn the man to step back, but he continues forward. "I think the wing is broken." he explains, pointing to the broken branch next to the animal with his axe. "I guess it hit the tree pretty hard and this is the result."

"Oh," you watched him crouch down to the bird, gently picking it up. It squawked louder as he picked it up to inspect it. "...So, do we help it?"

"...I don't know if we can." He replies back, picking it up with both hands, leaning the head of the axe in between his head and his shoulder as if he was taking a phone call with it. "...Have you ever taken care of a bird before?"

"...I've barely even seen a bird before, I'll be honest." You say, the works almost slipping out without you thinking much of it. He flicked his eyes over to you questioningly but didn't verbalise his thoughts. He was still intent on playing the long game.

"I guess we can take it back to the car for now." He says, his fingers clutching onto the torso of the bird firmly as he tried to support it's wing. Do you have any equipment in the car?"

"Maybe...? There's stuff in the back, we could try helping it." You say, nodding along with him as he began to walk back out the woods, you walking in front to guide him out with the only source of light between the two of you. "...Being a hero must be hard work." You mutter under your breath, your eyes flicking back to him practically cradling the animal in his arms as he steadily supported it to prevent it from hurting itself anymore. It's stopped crying at this point. "You even have to tend to the needs of even animals."

"Nothing worth doing is easy." He responses, picking up on your quiet words, his boots unshakeable even as he stepped on multiple uneven tree roots. "...Besides, this isn't my usual work. I investigate dangerous areas or suspects. My information isn't useful without someone to put it to good use. Helping others is inherently heroic. What I do isn't." He says, almost putting himself down as he spoke even if he didn't intent to. His tone was blunt and factual - he wasn't looking for reassurance.

"...Someone has to be the tester. Any important situation needs one." You say, your words sounding almost rehearsed as you spoke. Like you've heard it many times before. "...You fill a role no one else can."

He shifted his attention away from the crow, his head lifted up to look at you as you spoke. You didn't turn your head around though, only faced forward. He couldn't see what kind of expression was on your face.

-----

You opened the car door for him, letting him gently lower the bird onto the passenger seat of the car. The warm air that was somewhat there from the car heater was no longer in the vehicle, now it also reached the temperature of the cold air around you. Neither of you minded, but you still couldn't help the goosebumps crawling up your arms as a strong gust came every so often.

"Go watch it, I'll go check the back of the car." Zombieman said, resting the animal down before he swiftly walked away to open the boot of the car.

"O-Okay..." You nodded, briefly watching him move away from you two before you looked back down to the bird.

It had black ruffled feathers, and bright dark eyes. Eyes that seemed to stare deep into your inner being. It let out another echoing caw as it tried to fly again, getting up on it's feet. You quickly stepped forward, trying to discourage it's escape with your body. You hoped that you didn't actually have to touch it.

It stared up at you, then cried loudly. Clearly something of a battle cry as it then tried to fly - but was only able to hop forward.

You let out a fumbling cry of shock, your eyes seeing it fall off the car in slow motion. You had to catch it- You aren't wearing gloves- You can't touch it-

You have to catch it-

Your body moved on auto-pilot as your hands shot forward to catch it from falling to the dirt floor. Your brain knew, it fucking knew what would happen if you touched it, yet it still commanded it to move forward due to whatever fucking human nature you had left.

It's feathers grazed against the skin of your hands. Your body froze. It was warm. It was warm to touch even in the cold weather cooling the both of you down.

"Good catch," you heard distantly. You felt like you were submerged in a pool of ice water - you struggled to hear whatever was around you. Your eyes were frozen in place. Your body didn't listen to you. "Here, I found a first aid kit in the back."

You didn't process his words. You only watched the lively bird stumble on it's footing as you caught it. It blinked at you with something you'd call indignant anger. It would be right to be angry at you in a moment.

"You can put it down now," Zombieman said, clicking open the clasps on the box and pulled out some bandages. "We need to support it's wing with something strong." He carried on, unravelling the white gauze.

When he saw that you didn't listen to him, he reclarified for you. Maybe you didn't know what to get. "A straight strong stick should do. Go find one."

You still didn't move, and he finally looked up. He stared at you questioningly, not quite understanding the guilt ridden expression on your face until he looked down at your hands.

The black feathered bird was flopped over on your hands, it's eyes closed. It slumped over on it's wings and feet in a strange way. It's beak was open wide, trying to get something out that was never really there.

"...I think..." You say, your head turned over to face him, but he didn't really think you were looking at him. "I think your investigation is over."

...The crow was getting colder.

-----

"...I'm kinda like you." You started, sitting down in the car with dirt in stuck in your fingernails. You insisted on burying the crow before you explained everything. It was a request he easily granted - you had dug into the soft soil with your bare hands and covered the corpse with the same hands that killed it. "I'm... also like this because of human experimentation."

"...Go on." He said, nodding along.

"The lab, I'm sure you already know this, but they wanted to create antidotes. Something that would cure any poison. They obviously experimented on animals, but in the final stages, they wanted to test on a human subject. It was almost to fruition I think. And... My parents brought me in. I grew up in the lab." You sighed. "I wonder if they're even my real parents... What if..." You trailed off, the suspicions had clearly been weighing in your head for a long time. "...Never mind. That doesn't matter anymore. Anyways, one of the vials they gave me apparently wasn't the correct one. I started absorbing the poison in my body, almost like a storage box. No one realised at first."

"...Something happened, huh?" He said, picking up on your choice of words.

"...Yeah, they gave me some particularly strong poison or something to test out how my body would respond to the antidote they prepared. They didn't anticipate that I'd be able to absorb it alongside with the antidote." You let out something of a dry laugh. "That... was the last time I ever touched my mother. They cleared me to leave and I went up to her to say hi. She... collapsed on the ground, convulsing seconds later. After that, no one approached me without hazmat suits again. They quickly stopped working, after something else happened and they fled. My father was the last to go."

"...And that's when he gave you the instruction to stay until the level of toxins were acceptable?" He asked for confirmation. To which you nodded at him.

...Seeing everything fall into place has never felt so unsatisfying to him before.

He gave you a measured nod, his eyes never leaving the sight of your hunched over figure. "...So he sends you money to keep you somewhat alive?"

"...I don't know if he knows if I'm still alive." You shook your head. "Hell, I don't know if he's still alive himself. It's been... years. I only have the bank transactions from him as m only form as contact. I... still don't know if I killed my mother or if she's recovering somewhere."

He let out a quiet curse under his breath, leaning his arm against the window as you continued speaking.

They lived like this for years. Years.

"...I know what that place is, Zombieman." You say, your nails pressing tight against your skin, digging in. "I didn't want to admit it."

"...A prison?" He tried guessing when you didn't speak for a while, only to be met with a humourless laugh.

"Coffin. It's a coffin for me. I was born into a live burial - I'll live and die there." You say, your voice completely monotone. It was like a reporter going about the facts of the day. "The furthest place I've been from here. This... forest. And just by going once, I ruined the place. I can't just... leave. This was already a mistake."

He listened to you, watching the way you clutched yourself for some sort of support. He stayed quiet, examining your features carefully. Nothing on his corkboard prepared him for this - but perhaps his own personal experience of being on the other side could help.

He slowly forms the thoughts in his head - there wasn't much he could remember when he first left the lab he had escaped from, but he tried his best to gather what he could. What would have comforted him best? Well, probably the death of Dr Genus.

It was just a tad too slow - you had began speaking again.

"...When are you going to end me?"

He turned his head over to you, too quickly. "What?"

"You found the source of the poison." You say, leaning over to him from your seat. His breath hitched as you got closer. "You've known for a while, haven't you? So when are you going to do it? In my sleep? With a gun? Or an axe?"

It probably doesn't help, but at the mention of his weapons his eyes find their way over to their positions. "...I'm not going to murder you." He says, but didn't get up. He let you look down at him from where you were - it was probably the little bit of power you still had over him in your eyes. "You haven't done anything wrong."

"I made that crow die." You state, your retort coming back far too fast. "You saw me. One touch from me killed it. It was barely even a few seconds."

"...That doesn't warrant the death penalty." He sighs. "Nothing you've done deserves punishment of any kind, it's not your fault. None of it."

You stared at him with an unreadable expression on your face, he struggled to place what you were feeling at the moment despite it being the most vital time for him to be able to. "...I have a question," you say, almost reluctant to interrupt him. "If there was something that could only cause harm, why keep it?"

He doesn't given himself much time to think of his answer, knowing that the longer he took the more insincere he would sound to you. "I know many people who's only speciality is violence." He starts out, leaning a little closer to you as you took a step back from him, giving him more space. "...We call them heroes. Or monsters, depending on their intentions."

"...Are you one of these people?" You ask, your words feeling heavier than he expected for such a short question.

"I'd say so." He responded, his voice flat as he continued speaking. "...But a lot of people suspect me as a monster too. "

"...You're more than that." You said, tilting your head at him with scornful befuddlement. You looked upset, but not at him.

"Aren't you the same?" He mirrored the simple question to you.

There's silence from you, until he hears a small sniffle and you bring up one hand to wipe at your eyes. He's frozen solid for a second until he reaches over to a box of tissues nearby and offered it to you.

"No..." You shook your head. "No thanks, my tears will just melt it... Tried it, trust me..."

"...Yeah, that's what tissues tend to do in liquid long enough." He cracked the dry joke, trying to lighten your mood and still offering the box to you, just slightly further away.

"...No, they're..." You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out a shaky sigh as you forced yourself to bite back the tears. "My tears are corrosive. Highly corrosive."

"...Huh." He said, putting the box aside and stood up. "Would you like my coat instead?"

"...Why on Earth would I want that?" You say, the last of the tears running down your face as you stopped wiping it with your hands.

"...It's work clothes, I can get these replaced for basically free. It's cheaper than those tissues." He shrugged, trying to make another attempt to cheer you up seeing that you had stopped at this point. They were more stressed tears than anything, so your crying wouldn't have lasted long anyways.

You blinked at him before letting out a laugh, "no, no... It's okay... I don't want to accidentally hurt you. I'm fine now anyways."

"Mhm." He nodded, watching you sit back down on your seat. "...You know, I have a really, really smart colleague. He might be able to help you leave if you want."

"...Really?"

"He's the smartest person I know. And I've been kicking around for a while." He states a chuckle on his lips as he spoke. The only other person he could think of being close to Child Emperor was Dr Genus. There wasn't a chance in hell he'd let him anywhere near you.

"...Do you think he'd be willing to help?" You ask, the lilt of your voice going up a little higher, a sense of hopefulness leaking into your tone. "Or wait, would he be safe? I don't want to hurt him by accident..."

He nodded at your concerns as you spoke. "I've seen him analyse venomous monsters during the heat of battle and create antibodies on the fly. I think there's a strong chance."

"...Wow, he sounds really smart. Is he a hero like you?"

"Yes," he nodded, something you'd describe as pride adorned his features. "He's more of a hero than me, though. I could learn a lot from him."

"...I think you're far more of one than you think you are."

He's silent, staring back into your eyes. It takes the both of you a moment before either speaks. His voice breaks the silence gently, his words slow and purposeful as he spoke.

"...I think we should get going soon. We need to catch that train."

#zombieman #zombieman x reader #one punch man #opm x reader #OtterlyFoolishWritings #someone who can't die + someone that kills everyone they touch = love story #or at least a potentially funny dynamic imo #tbh i feel like I could write a (short) multi-chapter fic off this idea but I Probably Won't because I have issues with Time Management #other running thoughts are that I wanted to write more about MC's past #I feel like they could be very fun to write and then delve into with ZM as he gets to work sniffing shit out #But I wanted to keep the “”vibe“” of mystery even if you knew all the plot twists from the summary before hand #x reader

18 notes · View notes

astonmartinii · 6 months

Text

big reputation | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem reader

they may have a big reputation and they may be end game, but sometimes you need a push from your girlfriend to enter your reputation era

(also no hate to vasseur and sainz, it's just the way the fic had to go)

MASTERLIST | TIPS

f1newsandgossip

liked by user1, user2 and 13,209 others

f1newsandgossip: after ferrari's continued chaos and inability to get anything right it seems, do you think charles leclerc will stick around and renew his contract?

view all comments

user3: i love him and i love ferrari but if he wants any shot of winning a championship he has to leave

user4: i would die to see him at red bull or even mercedes

user5: would he want to be a second driver though?

user4: babes they treat him like he's the second driver at ferrari at least there he'd have a competent car and team

user6: yes ! he has to leave, no one at that team respects him anymore

user7: he should've left a long time ago but this season has to be the final nail in the coffin

user8: all he does it protect ferrari and ferrari don't even give a shit about him it's actually sad

user9: they don't even protect him from his teammate and his teammate's parents being rude about him in the media

user10: for real the man needs to stop being a team player and tell him how it is

user11: i feel so so bad for him because his childhood dream is turning into a nightmare and through no fault of his own

user12: i know y/n is absolutely seething and the only reason she hasn't said anything yet is because charles is so in love with the team that he won't say anything bad about them

user13: i need her to give him a lil slap around to get his head in gear

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, charles_leclerc and 1,309,556 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: you and me got a big reputation

view all comments

user14: me being delusional: OMG THIS MEANS CHARLES IS FINALLY ENTERING HIS REPUTATION ERA

user15: and then we remember rep is an album about love first and revenge second :(

charles_leclerc: is this a taylor swift reference?

yourusername: yes it is !! i knew you were actually listening when i gave you the full eras breakdown

charles_leclerc: i'd listen to you talk about anything

yourusername: even the things you don't want to hear?

charles_leclerc: i think it has gotten to that point, yes.

user16: WHAT DOES THIS MEAN ^^ ???

alexalbon: when will i be freed from the shackles of having to take cute photos of you two

yourusername: NEVER

charles_leclerc: is a seat on my jet not enough?

alexalbon: YOUR JET? i have clearly missed something here

maxverstappen1: alex is always free to fly air max (MY jet, factually)

yourusername: when did this become a dick measuring contest? (charles would win, you can all go home)

maxverstappen1: i don't want you to see my dick

charles_leclerc: i should think not verstappen

alexalbon: i don't know how i hang out with you morons

user17: gosh y/n is so sexy

user18: i am allowing myself to live in delusion and after the shitshow that was austin, y/n is initiating the reputation era and charles will either give ferrari hell or actually leave

user19: idk that man might be completely in love with y/n but he's even more in love with ferrari

charles_leclerc: nothing compares to her

user20: WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN?

charles_leclerc

liked by georgerussell63, yourusername and 1,204,509 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: hola mexico! can't wait for the weekend to start

view all comments

user22: post your team or car? no. post a random picture of your girlfriend? yes.

user23: he should post an explanation as to why his gf was being wined and dined by christian horner

yourusername: ZOOWEE MAMA

charles_leclerc: excuse me?

yourusername: instagram would ban me if i really said what i think

charles_leclerc: oh i'm blushing

yourusername: but always above all you are a cutie patootie

user24: i see posts like this and i wonder why do they always have break up rumours if they are this in love?

user19: bestie we simply cannot be believing everything we read, especially when it comes from a certain spanish paper

liked by yourusername

user24: wait what is this supposed to mean?

user19: any "insider source" at ferrari that has anti-leclerc info is usually the sainz family lol that's why other than ferrari being clowns in general charles needs to get the fuck out

pierregasly: rivalling me with just how much you post y/n

charles_leclerc: ummmm you've met her, and you wouldn't?

charles_leclerc: WAIT don't answer that

user25: so are we just ignoring that y/n was at dinner with CHRISTIAN HORNER?

user26: the red bull!charles dream a bit more feasible now and i am appropriately feral

user27: obsessed with how he's just ignoring the horner thing

user28: i am similarly obsessed with how the media are spinning this to an affair between y/n and horner LMAO

yourusername: he made us split the bill after ordering a really spenny wine :/

user29: I'M CRYING

user30: horner's like if i don't get a driver out of this dinner i will be having a nice glass of wine he's so real for that

scuderiaferrari: let's get it 💪

user31: GET A JOB. LEAVE HER ALONE

liked by yourusername

user32: lol she's so tired of being subtle

user33: TELL THEM SIS

liked by yourusername, redbullracing and 1,450,667 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

f1: BREAKING: charles leclerc signs for red bull racing for 2024 on a four year contract

view all comments

user36: they're MUGGY for the first picture omg

user37: SOMEONE CALL THE EMERGENCY SERVICES FOR ME I CAN'T BREATHE

user38: wait so like who do i have to thank for finally making this happen?

user39: this has y/n y/ln written all over it - the dinner with horner finally makes sense

pierregasly: WHAT ?????????

user40: HE'S FINDING OUT AT THE SAME TIME AS US? DID ANYONE KNOW?

user41: THERE WILL BE NO EXPLANATION JUST REPUTATION

liked by yourusername

user42: okay since y/n and charles have referenced the reputation album so much during this whole fiasco .... taylor swift x charles leclerc piano ballad collab when?

user43: so this is il predestinato who has betrayed his team and completely blindsided him? this is why carlos has always been the superior driver

liked by carlossainz55

user44: not carlos liking this comment

yourusername: i wish he would say something with his chest, always hiding behind his parents and the spanish media ... yeah we know about that and we're no longer under that stupid contract so i can and will say this all to your face

user45: HOLY SHITTTTTTTTTT

carlossainz55: you got the move and attention you wanted stop trying to drag me into it

yourusername: babe there's a difference between you and i, you create fake cheating rumours to try and shake your teammate while your PR team is fulltime constantly having to threaten legal action over you not being able to keep it in your pants

user46: ERM QUEEN THEY STILL HAVE RACES TOGETHER

redbullracing: anyways.... WELCOME TO THE TEAM CHARLES

user47: admin what is going on?

redbullracing: i have no clue but as soon as that man is in a navy race suit i will get the tea trust

user48: so real of you

maxverstappen1: ☕️

user49: LMAO KING

yourusername: i have a feeling we might get on (no more inchidents though)

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, charles_leclerc and 1,344,099 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: they said i did something bad, why does it feel so good?

view all comments

user51: momma does not play oh my

taylorswift: proud 🖤 🐍

yourusername: approved by our lord and saviour, thanks mother

charles_leclerc: do you need a pianist?

taylorswift: i'm sure we can work something out

landonorris: ^^ this is so unfair i thought i was the swiftie on the grid :(

danielricciardo: my rendition of our song says otherwise

user52: she really said FUCK FERRARI AND FUCK YOU TOO

user53: as she should

charles_leclerc: i'm not a playboy but i do LOVE YOU

yourusername: i love you even more

charles_leclerc: NUH UH I LOVE YOU MORE

yourusername: i would literally fight every person on earth for your hand

charles_leclerc: oh wow ... mark me scared AND horny

alexalbon: okay that's ENOUGH

user54: i'm so glad she shook him out of the ferrari daze he. might finally have a chance at the championship now

user55: i'd be afraid that ferrari may build a good car next year but then i remember it's ferrari LOL

user56: so y/n mentioned under the f1 post about a contract? was she not able to say anything about ferrari while with charles?

yourusername: yes. i was not able to say anything they considered negative. many times when i expressed disappointment in how charlie has been treated i was reprimanded by ferrari and was banned from the paddock for weekends following any statements

user57: wtf that is crazy ??? makes sense as to why charles always blames himself when it was clearly a pit/strategy issue

yourusername: ferrari have attempted to keep charlie under wraps since his second season at the team. they were worried about him becoming outspoken like seb. this goes all the way down to his music which they tried to prevent him from releasing. i'm glad he'll be given the chance to show his talents next season

user58: thank the lord charles finally left. this is insane. the reputation era was well and truly needed.

maxverstappen1: kelly wants to know whether now you'll be wag teammates that you can raid each other's wardrobes?

yourusername: of course !!! i can't wait to see her more often coffee dates are a must ( + p of course)

charles_leclerc: i'm gonna beat your ass at padel i WILL be the padel king at red bull

maxverstappen1: i will show NO MERCY

yourusername: maybe this was a bad idea ...

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,332,909 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: it saddens me to my core to be leaving the team i always dreamed of racing for and winning with, but there comes a point in your career when it's time to put your ambitions above tradition. ferrari has always been the dream for me, but the last couple of years have been a nightmare. i never thought i'd be put in a position where i'd have feelings like these about the team i love, but the constant disrespect, betrayal and the treatment of my loved ones leaves me no other choice. despite this sad ending, i am looking forward to new opportunities at red bull, racing alongside an old friend and under a competent leadership. finally, thank you to y/n and my family for being there for me during this time despite the way we were all treated. i know i will get questions, but there will be no explanation, just reputation.

view all comments

user59: he really left comments open so we could drag ferrari

user60: and drag i shall do... that man despite the absolute tomfoolery got that shitbox on the podium and NONE OF YOU SHOWED UP

user61: for real, they're out here trying to show charles as petty but then KEEP PROVING HIS POINT LOL

yourusername: i am so unbelievably proud of you. i know this was a hard choice but it's the one you had to make. today and every other day i will always be there to support you even if no one else is

user62: subtle DRAG

charles_leclerc: i love you to the moon and to saturn

yourusername: you're my invisible string

yourusername: also this is what i mean when i say reputation is a love story with a side of shade

user63: i know binotto let out a sigh of relief that he dodged this shit storm

yourusername: that fraud is SO lucky i was under contract while he was there otherwise i'd drag his ass so bad he'd be bald

charles_leclerc: i don't know how he made it out of silverstone alive after the whole finger wagging saga, i had to hold her back

sebastianvettel: i hate to say i told you so .....

charles_leclerc: SEB ????? BUT I'M DOING IT NOW, I'M NOT WASTING IT (tell christian to give me the better strategies i know you're still the o.g golden boy)

maxverstappen1: you know i can see this right?

christianhorner: and me?

charles_leclerc: @yourusername baby please take the fall for me

yourusername: I COMMENTED THAT

maxverstappen1: you guys really aren't slick... you're lucky i already love you two

christianhorner: i feel like i need to brief PR already

yourusername: if it makes it any better i'm a great baker and very generous

redbullracing: WE'LL TAKE IT

user64: @netflix make sure there's a camera in that garage at ALL TIMES

pierregasly: proud of you calmar, i hope this works out better for you than it did for me

yourusername: NO ROOM FOR PITY PARTY HERE SIR

yourusername: wait that was rude, we love you pierre

charles_leclerc: thank you pierre

pierregasly: ummmmmm tell y/n she can't say that ???

charles_leclerc: she made me see the light kinda owe her everything rn, so sorry?

christianhorner: definitely brief PR

note: teehee here it is. MY GOD my writing block has been insane - i also went on a trip to london and got horrendously drunk and made AWFUL decisions. alas, i hope you guys enjoy this and the race later !!

EDIT: I AM SO FUCKING ANNOYED AT THIS RACE ONE DAY WHERE CHARLES IS NOT FUVKED OVER IS ALL I ASK WHAT DID HE DO TO DESERVE THIS

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc instagram edit #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc

4K notes · View notes

wheresarizona · 15 days

Text

but I would die for you in secret

summary: The relationship you have with Joel Miller is… complicated, and you’re not entirely sure what to even call it. There’s the fact no one can know, so his kid doesn’t find out, and you’re pretty sure he’s ashamed of your age difference—he’s not your boyfriend, but you only fuck each other; this thing started months ago, and Joel does not like it when men give you attention, because he wants you all to himself. But again, he’s not your sexy, older boyfriend.

pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, porn with some plot, explicit smut, Possessive Joel Miller, Joel being a lil dominant, age gap (unspecified, reader is an adult), secret relationship, sneaking around, accidental voyeurism, edging, orgasm denial, mutual masturbation, dirty talk (so much), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), rough sex, explicit consent, creampie, spanking, spit as lube, love confession, Good Parent Joel Miller, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, TLOU AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and they’re good when they get back to Jackson)

word count: 7.1k+

a/n: Hey! I needed a break from my long fic that I’ve been writing nonstop for five months, and I was really missing Joel and Ellie, so here we are. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to @juletheghoul for betaing!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Masterlist - One Shot

The relationship you have with Joel Miller is… complicated.

To start with, there’s the age difference. It doesn’t bother you at all, and why should it? You’re both consenting adults who know what they want, but he’s got this idea in his head that he shouldn’t be chasing someone so much younger than him and that you should be with somebody your own age—he mentions this almost every single time you’re alone together, and you've learned a simple flash of your tits or a sudden kiss will make those thoughts disappear.

Then there's the fact he isn't your boyfriend, yet you only fuck each other. His days are spent working whatever job he’s assigned here in Jackson and he’s at your place most nights after his daughter goes to bed—however, that’s a secret; No one can know about you two, even though Joel’s a tiny bit possessive and doesn't take kindly to other men giving you attention; which you're not one to judge because you can't stand when women flirt with him, especially Sandra, his next-door neighbor who won't leave him the fuck alone after the many times he’s told her he’s not interested.

So, again, he's not your boyfriend, but neither of you wants to fuck anyone else; whatever this thing is between you has been going on for over eight months, and he doesn’t want people to know you’re together—yet, any time he catches a man being too friendly with you, there's a 100% chance a grumpier than usual Joel will show up at your house that night, and at some point, while he’s fucking your brains out, he'll let a 'Mine' slip out.

Clearly, you have some kind of relationship with him, and it borders somewhere between fuck buddies and him being your boyfriend; where it gets confusing is it's not all sex with him. If his kid is staying over at a friend's, he'll show up at yours earlier than normal, and usually, with a movie he hadn't seen since the world ended or a record he thought you'd enjoy that you both listen to all the way through for him to tell you facts and anecdotes that he could possibly be the only person on the entire planet who knows.

If you need anything fixed around your house, he'll do it, and sometimes you don't even have to ask. You'll mention something, and the next thing you know, he's at your front door with a toolbox—sometimes, he uses doing repairs as a ruse so people will see him arriving at your place with his tools when, in actuality, he’s there to spend the day with you.

You’re also probably the only person, unrelated to him, he has actual conversations with; there’s hardly any grumbling or muttering.

There is a reason he won't acknowledge you’re dating, and it's his sixteen-year-old daughter whom he doesn't want to know he has a love life—it's to where Joel's basically taken the role of the rebellious teenager, sneaking out of his own home in the middle of the night to ensure she's unaware he left.

It's an accumulation of factors why she can't know. The big two, you think, are your age, and you know for sure he doesn't want Ellie to think she'll be any less important to him or that he's abandoning her if he's seeing someone—he worries she won’t take it well, and from what you know she's been through, you can understand why he’s being so protective.

Do you wish you could openly be in a relationship with Joel? Sure, it'd make you happy to shove it in Sandra, his stupid neighbor's face that he's taken.

That isn't a possibility, though, and honestly, what the two of you have is good, so you're not going to make a fuss about labels.

It's been a few nights since Joel has snuck over to your place, and you know why he hasn't stopped by—Ellie—she's sick with a cold, and to put things mildly, her father is freaking the fuck out that it could turn into something worse, and he won't let her out of his sight.

Now, if a person didn't want their child to know they were dating anyone, they’d keep them separated, right? Well, you live across the street from them—that's how you met Joel; he saw someone had moved into the tiny one-bedroom, one-bath home across from his and came over to introduce himself—and since you live across the way from him, and Ellie, the two of you have this, 'Just being a good neighbor,’ act, where any interactions you have in public, are under the guise that you’re just friendly neighbors. So, Ellie has spoken to you many times and has even invited you to hang out and eat meals with them at their house or in the mess hall, where Joel always does his damndest to act indifferent.

Joel left a simple note three days ago stating Ellie was feeling under the weather on your front door. The next day, you stopped by, as the good neighbor you are, to drop off some chicken soup you convinced the kitchen at the mess hall to make. Joel had let you in with a ‘Thanks’ and took the large bowl from you to the kitchen, and you followed the sounds of sniffles to the living room, where you found the teenager wrapped in a blanket on the couch, her stuffed-up voice exclaiming when she saw you in relief you were there so she’d have someone other than her dad to look at or talk to; obviously, she was tired of him, and with how he was hovering, and fussing over her like a mother hen, you would’ve been tired of him, too.

The man had bags under his worried eyes and looked like he hadn’t slept since she’d gotten sick. After he served her some soup and saw she was eating it, Ellie and you convinced him to take a nap while you hung out with his kid—the kid you’ve had a suspicion for a while knows there’s something up between you and her father, simply because every time the two of you are alone, she grills you about your love life.

The thing is, she always fishes for information you won’t give her, but she never seems bothered by the prospect of Joel dating; frankly, she’s supportive and wants him to be happy. However, that wasn’t something you could tell him because he’d probably end things with you immediately, so you’d have to wait for them to eventually have a heart-to-heart for him to find out—which, you’re not holding your breath with how bad they both are at talking to each other about their feelings.

And now it’s been over three days since you last got laid, and after having great sex regularly, the horniness is hitting you hard tonight, and you need to come.

It might be the dead of winter, but you’ve pushed the blankets to the end of your queen-sized bed, the old sheets not as soft as you imagined they’d once been when they were new, your bare, heated skin pressing into them. You’re lying in the middle of the mattress, your head cushioned by a pillow that’d lost its firmness long ago, your naked legs spread while your fingers rub at your swollen clit just right, the others pinching at your pebbled nipple to have the pleasure welling up inside you. You’ve been biting your bottom lip so much it’s sore, your breaths panting from your lungs, the wood stove in the living room keeping your house warm, and that, combined with your arousal, has a thin layer of sweat coating your body.

Sure, you can get yourself off, but the orgasm will be nowhere near as good as what Joel coaxes from you; it’ll take the edge off, at least, so you’ll feel a little better.

For the last hour, you’ve been building yourself up, almost hitting your peak, and stopping, edging yourself over and over again to try to make yourself come as hard as you can by your own hand to assuage some of your need—the sheets are wet under your ass where you’ve dripped onto them.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, thinking about that one night Joel saw some guy about your age at the bar laying it on thick to get you to leave with him, and how after you turned him down and left, a familiar presence followed you along the dark streets. You had to keep quiet when those big, gun-calloused hands you knew all too well pulled you into the stable that had nobody in it except the horses—Joel fucked you from behind against a wall, having to brace yourself with your arms on it. You remembered his palm over your mouth to muffle your sounds and him blanketing himself over your back to have his lips at your ear while he pounded into you hard and fast, quietly grunting about how you were his and that no one could make you feel as good as he did. There was no forgetting how his cock stretched open your cunt, or how before he sheathed himself inside you, you heard him spit on his fingers to slick himself up; the way he made you come around him while he circled your clit with those same digits. The memory of how he’d worked himself up so much he’d forgotten to pull out and spilled deep in your pussy, has you so close to coming by your hand you moan loudly, “Joel.”

“Stop,” the familiar gruff voice makes your eyes snap open as you gasp, immediately sitting up on your elbows.

There at the foot of the bed is the man on your mind—he must’ve taken off his winter jacket in the living room—his green flannel shirt is gaping from most of the buttons being undone, revealing his chest, his grey waves of hair looking to be slightly damp from melted snowflakes. What steals your attention is the fact his jeans are unbuttoned and open, and he’s slowly stroking his hard dick; from how the tip is angry red, leaking precum, and his shaft shines, he’s been watching and jerking off for some time.

“Joel,” his name comes out as a whisper, and your eyes flick up to his, finding them dark and staring hungrily between your legs at your glistening cunt.

You’re so happy to see him you’re not even mad he ruined your orgasm, knowing he’ll make it up to you.

“How many times have you made yourself come while I’ve been busy?” he asks, finally meeting your gaze, his expression grumpy.

“No-none,” you stammer.

His eyebrow lifts. “You lyin’ to me, sweetheart?”

“No.” You shook your head. “Are you mad at me…?”

His face pinches in confusion. “What? No. I’m not mad at you, baby. I’m mad at myself for leavin’ you hangin’.” He undoes the last two buttons on his shirt and shrugs it off for it to fall to the floor, pushing down his pants to step out of them, now standing before you completely naked.

His body is a tapestry of littered scars that tell of his fight to survive this long, some from injuries you’re sure should’ve killed him. Yet, somehow, if by spite or the grace of God, he managed to stay alive—your fingers have traced many of them, mapping the silvery and pink lines in the quiet of the night with only the glow of a bedside lamp. With what people have to do in order to keep living these days, they rarely like to share the stories behind their close calls to death. Still, there’s a jagged scar low on the right side of his stomach lesser men would have died from, you noticed the first time he took his shirt off, and you always wanted to know the story of. Surprisingly, he told you how he got it a few months into this not-not relationship when you asked.

Excitement pools in your belly, your pussy throbbing needily, watching as he climbs onto the bed to kneel in front of you, between your legs, down by your ankles.

“Touch yourself,” he orders and takes himself in hand again, languidly pumping his cock. “I wanna watch you make yourself come; then I’m gonna show you how I’m better than everyone, includin’ you, at gettin’ you off.”

Your cunt clenches because he is better, and the promise has you doing as he said, sliding your hand down to the apex of your thighs to rub your clit the way you like while you watch him fist his shaft. This isn’t the first time he’s watched you touch yourself, and you’re sure if it was anyone else, you’d feel embarrassed, but with how the desire is clear as he stares at what you’re doing, it spurs you on.

Having been so close to coming when he told you to stop, and now, it’s turning you on so much that he’s jacking off to what you’re doing, all of it is building you back up quickly, the familiar heat growing at the base of your spine.

“Just like that, baby,” he rasps and wets his bottom lip. “Keep rubbin’ that pretty pussy—did you miss me?”

“Yes.”

He hums in the back of his throat. “Missed how good I make you feel—how I stretch open that perfect cunt with my cock? Do I fuck you so good, you were thinkin’ about me to make yourself come?”

The strokes of his hand sound wetter, your arousal drooling onto the bedding while the muscles in your belly begin to tighten.

“Yes,” you gasp.

“That’s right, you were. So fuckin’ pretty spread out like this for me—I wanna taste you, shove my face in your pussy, and drown in it; just look at how you’re drippin’ for me.”

“Joel,” you moan. You’re so close it’s not going to take much more.

“God, I fuckin’ missed that sound; I missed hearin’ your voice and how good you smell, how soft your skin is, and the few hours I get to sleep next to you—come for me, baby. Come all over your fingers, and I’ll give you my dick—I’ll make those gorgeous eyes roll back in your head and give it to you so good, I ruin you for anyone else.”

He’s already ruined you for anyone else, and you doubt there’s another who’d fuck you as good as him.

It’s the thought that he’s yours and no one else can have him like this that sends you over the edge, your body seizing up as you come, pleasure erupting from your center as you moan his name.

He doesn’t give you a chance to recover, batting away your hand to dive in and bury his face in your wet heat. He shoves his tongue inside your soaked hole, groaning loudly as he laps at your come, your body trembling when he drags the flat of it up through your folds to suck your clit between his lips. Your fingers press into his hair, soft sounds leaving your throat at how good it feels.

The one orgasm isn’t enough—you need more, his mouth igniting arousal to burn hot in your belly, making you feel achingly empty. He’s licking up every bit of your need, coating your sex, moving to flick his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re feeling greedy; what he’s doing isn’t enough, and you want, no, need him inside you.

You pull at his hair as you tell him in a somewhat whiny tone, “Fuck me, Joel—stop making me wait.”

His chuckle vibrates into your sensitive skin before he rises to kneel with a groan. “Impatient.” He smacks your thigh. “Flip, ass up.” And it’s not a suggestion, his hands on your waist helping you to roll over, pulling your backside up into the air while your torso is against the sheets. Your knees are sinking into the bed and spread a little, putting yourself on display for him, the mattress jostling when he shuffles forward, feeling his body heat behind you. His palm lands on your asscheek hard, the sharp sting making you moan. “Now, ask me nicely to fuck you.”

You should’ve known he wouldn’t care for your lack of manners.

Your head is resting on your crossed arms in front of you.

“Joel, will you please fuck me?” you ask as sweetly as possible.

“Yes.”

The sound of him spitting on his fingers meets your ears, and you know he’s slicking himself up. One of his hands holds your hip, the other guiding his cock through the lips of your pussy to wet it even more, nudging your clit—it doesn’t seem like he’s in a mood to tease too much. Your eyes slip shut when he notches himself at your entrance and starts slowly feeding himself into you, your tight, velvety walls expanding to take the considerable girth of him, whining as he fills you. He slides all the way home, your cunt throbbing around him.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he groans. “Is this what your needy little pussy wanted?”

“Yes,” you moan.

He’s as deep as he can go and pulls out until just the tip remains, and slams back into you hard enough to knock the air from your lungs—oh, this is going to be one of those times where he fucks you to the point your legs are too shaky to walk on afterward. The pace he sets is deliciously brutal and has your eyes rolling back, all thoughts leaving your brain, unable to think with how he’s pressing into so many heavenly spots, his grip tight on your waist.

The sounds in the room are obscene—the springs beneath you are squeaking, and there’s the noisy slap of his hips colliding with your ass, Joel grunting with each dull smack of his skin to yours, while you gasp out moans.

He’s fucking you so good, your orgasm is already taking shape, its fiery tendrils tightening in your core with each stroke.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he says through gritted teeth. “You’re so fuckin’ wet—I could live in this perfect pussy.”

His hand slaps your ass hard enough the crack echoes amongst the four walls, the sweet pain making you clench around him and press back into his thrusts, crying out his name.

“Does it feel good, baby?” he asks. “Did you miss getting fucked like this? You love this—this pussy is mine, isn’t it? You’re mine.”

He’s not wrong; you are his, and all you can do is mewl in reply, waves of your arousal seeping down his shaft to catch on his balls.

His gun-calloused hands adjust on your hips to get a better grip, pulling you back each time his dick impales you, fucking you harder and faster, hearing him panting behind you—the wet sounds of him working himself in and out of your drenched cunt, are loud, and lewd.

You’re so close; you’re just needing—

Joel leans forward to get his hand under your body to the swollen pearl of your clit, circling it how he knows you like it.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he grits out. “Let me have it—soak my cock with your come. Let me feel you—I know you’re almost there.”

That’s it—the knot in your belly winds tighter and tighter until the tension snaps, and you fall over the edge with a silent cry, your pussy clamping down on him hard enough that it slows his rhythm almost to a stop. Joel groans loudly while euphoria explodes out from your center, feeling it spread to your fingers and toes. Your brain goes blissfully blank, and your legs tremble under you like a leaf in the wind.

A gasp leaves you when he suddenly pulls out and flips you onto your back, taking his place between your spread thighs. He puts your legs high on his ribs, holding his weight on one arm while his other hand sheaths himself back inside you.

It’s not surprising that you’ve found yourself under his hulking frame with his hips snapping in and out of you—when you open your eyes, his are closed, his expression looking pained, and it’s his broad shoulders and head that take up your vision. This is how Joel wanted to fuck you from the start, but he’s a gentleman and did your preferred position first.

Your fingernails end up digging into the skin of his shoulder blades for something to hold on to, and he kisses over your chest to duck his head, wrapping his lips around a stiff nipple and sucking on it, the shock of pleasure causing a moan to slip from your throat. His breaths are heavy, and you know he won’t last much longer.

Your voice is hoarse when you speak, telling him what you know he needs to hear, “I missed you, Joel.” He whines. “I want you to come for me.”

His mouth leaves your breast to crash against yours, and you’d been wondering how long he’d go without kissing you—something about kissing while he fucks makes him come faster; maybe it’s the intimacy?

He’s told you the last woman he was with back in Boston wouldn’t kiss him because sex between them was just scratching an itch, and she wasn’t looking for anyone to replace her dead husband.

All you know is Joel loves kissing and touching—he’s admitted that he sleeps best with you snuggled against his back as the big spoon, which, you’ll never tell him, you think is adorable with how he scares people enough, they move out of his way when he walks down the street.

His kisses are fervent, and you give just as good as you get, welcoming his tongue when it presses between your lips, his pace speeding up. You love having him inside you, the way he fits all nice and snug to fill you completely. This is what you’ve been needing, and it’s perfect.

When his rhythm gets uneven, you expect him to pull out at any second to spill his release on your belly. What he does next, you’re not expecting.

Joel shoves his face into the crook of your neck, his facial hair scratching your skin, feeling his hot breaths.

He says something that’s too muffled to make out, so you pull on his hair to make him lift his head, finding his eyes dark and glazed over, looking totally and completely wrecked. His pace slows to him rocking in and out of you.

“What did you say?” you ask.

“Can I—” he pants. “Fuck, can I come inside you?”

The question has your tight walls constricting around him.

“Fuck,” Joel hisses, his eyes closing. “Please, can I?” he asks again.

The answer that immediately pops into your brain is ‘yes,’ but thinking about how the only times this man has finished inside you in the past were all accidents, you’re worrying he’s just pussy drunk and not thinking straight; that if you fell pregnant, something you didn’t mind, he’ll regret it.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

He looks at you and nods. “Yes, I know—” The consequences, he leaves unsaid. “—please.”

“Then yes, come for me, Joel—fill me up.”

He raggedly moans, his face falling into your neck again. His thrusts speed up and become frantic as he pounds into you, your heels digging into his ass, feeling the muscles flex. He works himself up until he presses into you one last time as deep as possible and comes with a guttural groan—his dick jerks inside you, and the hot spurts of his spend gush into your depths, filling you up. Electricity zips down your spine as you moan, your tight walls throbbing around him while he grinds his hips, fucking his come deeper.

The weight of his body is welcome when he eventually slumps onto you, and instinctively, your fingers slide into his hair, scratching your nails lovingly against his scalp, the man practically purring on top of you.

For the first time in three days, you feel happy and finally sated, loving how he’s stuffed you full of his cock, and come. There’s no talking as your heartbeats slow together and your breathing evens out, basking in each other’s presence. Your eyes are closed, and you’re choosing to ignore your shaky limbs.

It’s hard to imagine a life without Joel, which is odd since up until this point, most of it had been spent without him, or anyone really. What you actually mean is you don’t want to imagine a life without Joel and Ellie—you think she’s a great kid, and you have a soft spot for her; plus, she and her dad are a package deal. Then there’s Joel, who you’re absolutely and completely in love with, and it bothers you that you don’t know what this relationship between you is or if he even feels the same as you.

Minutes pass, the old, wooden bones of your house creaking as the winter wind gusts outside.

“Joel?” you break the silence.

“Mhmm?” he hums, nuzzling into your throat.

“What are we?”

“Huh?”

“What are we? Like, what is this thing that we’re doing?”

His head lifts, and he pulls out, rolling off you to lie beside you on his back, pressing his hands to his face.

“Somethin’ I shouldn’t be doin’ in the first place,” he finally answers.

You turn on your side toward him, propping your head up on your arm. “Take my age out of the equation.”

His palms lift, and he looks at you confused. “What do you mean?”

“For some fucking reason, you are stuck on my age—take it out of the equation; if that wasn’t a factor, would you openly date me?”

“Well, there’s Ellie—”

“—let’s pretend she doesn’t give a fuck about your love life,” you cut him off, “and actually wants you to be happy, and my age doesn’t matter—would you openly date me?”

“Yes.”

“So, you have feelings for me?”

“Of course.”

“Do you love me…?”

“Yes,” he whispers, covering his face again.

One word has your heart picking up in speed.

“I love you, too.”

His head whips in your direction with an expression of bewilderment.

“What?” he asks.

“I’m in love with you—have been for a while, and I’m fine with doing what we’ve been doing if that’s the only way I can be with you, but I kinda, sorta, would like it if you thought of us as a couple, and weren’t ashamed of me…”

A secret relationship? You’re fine with that. But Joel being ashamed of you? It fucking hurts.

“I’m not ashamed of you,” he says too quickly.

“Joel, if Ellie were okay with you having a love life, you wouldn’t openly date me because of how old I am—I’d just continue being your dirty little secret that one other person knows about.”

His eyes dart away, and the sigh he lets out is long and weary.

“I’m not ashamed of you,” he says. “I’m ashamed of myself for fallin’ for you and not bein’ able to give you the future you deserve. I just felt like I was stringin’ you along when you could be with someone who can offer you more, but I’m so fuckin’ selfish.” He looks at you. “I want you, and I don’t want anyone else to have you—I can’t let you go, even though I should cut you free.”

Your fingers brush back the sweat-soaked hair on his forehead. “I don't want anyone else, Joel—I want you, and you’re not stringing me along. I’m happy with you and any future I can have with you and Ellie.”

He’s frowning. “If only it were that simple,” he sighs.

This is a conversation you thought might make him end things with you, but maybe giving him a slight nudge will be okay—at least, you hope it will.

“It is that simple,” you tell him. “I’m gonna tell you something that if you can work up the nerve to talk to her about, she'll confirm it.”

His eyebrows furrow. “What?”

“Ellie doesn’t care if you date. She’s told me she wishes you weren’t such an asshole ‘cause then the only negative thing about you is how ugly you are, and people love ugly things all the time, and if someone loves you, then you won’t die alone, plus it’d hopefully make you happy, and she really wants you to be happy—that’s pretty much what she said word-for-word.”

His eyes close, and the sigh that leaves him is that of a father who’s real tired of their child’s shit, and you smile.

“That’s Ellie,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m not even sure how I should be feelin’ right now.”

“I hoped you’d be relieved at least, possibly even happy.”

He looks at you. “Yeah, I’m relieved and happy but also a little ticked at her embarrassin’ me like that.”

Scooting closer to him, you lay half on top of him with your arms folded on his chest, resting your chin on them to stare at his pretty face.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It was said out of love—she loves you.”

He sighs again, wrapping his arms around your bare back.

“I guess she does, even if she’s mean. Jesus, I can’t believe I just needed to talk to her sooner.”

“That’s usually how things work—it’s called communication, and you should talk to her.”

His eyes narrowed, and he smacked your ass, making you giggle. “There’s no need for the sass, sweetheart, and I was plannin’ on bitin’ the bullet and tellin’ her about us in the next couple of days.”

Your eyes widened. “You were? What?”

“Yeah, uh, I had a hard time with Ellie bein’ sick, and when you came over, I didn’t feel like I was goin’ insane with worry. Havin’ you there made it better, and I missed you.” His lips dip in a frown.

“I missed you, too—you were really gonna tell her?”

“I was.” He nods. “With how happy she was to see you, I thought maybe she’d be okay with it.” He shrugs.

You smile. “I think you’re right,” you reply, giving him a quick kiss. Meeting his gaze, you ask, “Is she feeling better?”

“Yeah, and thank Christ, she is.” He looks visibly relieved. “I think it was that soup you brought over—thank you for that and for givin’ me a chance to sleep.” He pecks you on the lips.

“It was no problem. I would’ve been there the entire time had it not been suspicious.”

He smiles. “I know.”

“Good. Sooo, I’m wondering, what are we now?”

“A couple,” he answers. “I’ve thought that for a while, but I’m too fuckin’ old to be callin’ myself your boyfriend.”

“I quite like having a sexy, older boyfriend.”

You squeak in surprise when he rolls you onto your back, your legs automatically opening for him to nestle his hips between. He’s holding himself up with his arms beside your head while yours loop around his neck, his lips pressing to the side of your throat, kissing the taut skin.

“You like havin’ a sexy, older boyfriend, huh?” His question is muffled, and you swallow hard when he sucks on your pulse point.

“I do,” you reply.

“I like havin’ you.” He’s kissing and nibbling along your jaw.

“‘Cause no one else can?”

He nips your chin, then hovers his head over yours to look you in the eyes.

His expression is serious. “Yes,” he says, “and I love you—if Ellie really doesn’t give a shit about me datin’, then every fuckin’ person in town is gonna know you’re mine.”

And something about that declaration thrills you.

“I’d like that.”

He gives you a small smile and kisses you for a moment before a thought comes to him, and he pulls back to meet your gaze.

“Maybe that neighbor, the annoyin’ one who doesn’t seem to know the meanin’ of no, will finally get it through her head, I’m not fuckin’ interested.”

You glare off into the distance. “Fucking Sandra,” you seethe.

The first time he met you, Joel knew he was fucked.

All he wanted to do was be polite and introduce himself to his new neighbor, then you opened the door, and his brain stopped working because you were so beautiful. It didn’t help when you blatantly checked him out, clearly undressing him with your eyes before looking entirely too pleased with what you were seeing.

If he’d been a stronger, honorable man, he wouldn’t have accepted your offer to come inside for a drink; he wouldn’t have kissed you back or laid you down on the couch to eat your pussy; he wouldn’t have let you choke on his dick or crawl into his lap and ride him; he wouldn’t have gotten so lost in being buried in your wet, warm, perfect cunt and your lips on his that he forgot to pull out when he came; he wouldn’t have gotten addicted and returned to you almost every night after.

If he’d been a stronger, honorable man, he would’ve ended things before it went too far and definitely before he fell in love with you.

From the beginning, he knew he was way too old for you, and he didn’t understand why you wanted him or kept letting him into your house. He had nothing to offer you, yet even when the opportunities arose for you to go home with men your own age, you rejected them and welcomed him into your bed instead. It made little sense that someone as young and beautiful as you would give someone like him all of your attention.

He’s lost count of how many times he’s told you that you’d be better off with somebody younger than him. It’s usually when he remembers your age or when you don’t know what he’s talking about when he brings up certain things from how life was before it all went to hell. He says the words out loud, practically a reflex at this point when the guilt gets to him, and as quickly as the feeling comes, it goes because, as he told you, he’s selfish; he doesn’t want you with someone else; he wants you all to himself. When you tell him there isn’t anyone you’d rather be with than him, it feeds something deep inside of him that won’t let you go, and hearing you say you love him has only made it stronger—you have his total devotion.

Ellie being sick messed up his head enough that in the moments when you came to mind, he was plagued with the thought that you probably found someone new. The only time he felt a modicum of peace was when you stopped by, and with that and how much his kid loved you being there, and in general, he came to the conclusion he couldn’t lose you:

It was time for him to tell Ellie.

Joel isn’t delusional; you’d grow tired of only getting his nights and the occasional day, eventually, and he needed to give you more of himself, which required his daughter to know about your relationship.

If Ellie knew, then he could give you more.

He’s ashamed of himself for hiding your relationship and, in turn, not having much to offer in terms of a future. It bothers him so much that he hasn’t been able to be with you out in the open because you deserve better than being his dirty little secret, as you call yourself.

He hates that.

He wants everyone to know you’re his and that he is yours.

When he realized he was going to tell Ellie, he started imagining how your relationship would change. You could finally have a life together, and it had him thinking about things he never would’ve considered before you and actively tried to prevent in the past, but you didn’t mind the idea of bringing a new life into the world, and he thought that might not be so bad; Jackson’s safe, and he has no doubt you’ll be a great mother—and it’s a future he’s pretty sure you want since your reactions have always been positive when he accidentally finishes inside you. That’s why tonight he decided to say fuck it and asked if he could; he wasn’t worried about the consequences anymore.

He’s kicking himself in the ass for not talking to Ellie sooner.

The only reason he hasn’t broached the subject with her is after what happened in Colorado, Joel’s treated her like she’s a fragile piece of glass that he doesn’t want to risk getting broken again—the way she lost her spark after that resort town killed him; and what happened at the hospital? If he had the chance, he’d murder every one of those Fireflies again for how fucked up she was when he told her their plans to kill her without knowing for sure if they could make a cure or not and that her life meant nothing to them.

It took a lot of time for him to put her back together again, and being in Jackson helped a lot with her making friends and having some semblance of normalcy. But he’s worried any major changes will mess her up, and add in her biggest fear of ending up alone, Joel dating seems like a recipe for disaster—Ellie will always be his top priority, even if it’s at the expense of his happiness.

It’s early morning, and he’s got another thirty minutes before the sun will begin its ascent on the horizon, fresh snow coating the ground, the temperature freezing. Joel is skulking home from your place to be there before Ellie wakes up.

His point of entry is the back door that leads into their kitchen, which doesn’t make as much noise as the front and can be locked when he leaves. He’s staying close to the side of the house, heading toward the backyard, and peeks around the corner to check the vicinity—his heart pounds when he sees a dark figure trying to get into the door, Joel pulling the knife, he walks around with, off of his belt, keeping his steps light, silently approaching them.

“Why the fuck don’t we have a light back here?” he hears them quietly mutter.

“Ellie?” Joel says at regular volume.

“Ahhh!” she screams, turning in his direction. Her hand is over her winter coat-covered chest. “Jesus Christ, Joel! Way to give me a fucking heart attack!”

He walks closer, sheathing his knife, as he says, “What the hell are you doin’ out here?”

“What the hell are you doing out here?”

His hands perch on his hips. “Doesn’t matter—you, on the other hand, just got over bein’ sick and shouldn’t be out in this cold. Move, I’m gettin’ your ass inside.”

She stepped aside, and he walked over, quickly unlocking and opening the door; he grabbed her by the shoulder and firmly guided her inside. He flicked on the room’s light once they were inside, and the door was closed and locked, Joel crossing his arms over his chest.

“Now, where the fuck have you been?” he asks.

She’s unzipping her coat. “Where the fuck have you been?”

“I asked you first.”

She shrugs off her jacket and tosses it onto the kitchen table. Joel sighs, walking over to pick it up—he’ll hang it alongside his by the front door before he goes up to his room.

“I was at the same place you were.”

He keeps his face neutral, but his heart is thudding, and he’s pretty fucking sure she wasn’t at your house.

He meets her eyes. “And that is?”

She smirks. “My secret girlfriend’s.”

“Goddammit.” His fingers press to his forehead as he closes his eyes. “You fuckin’ know—how the fuck do you know?”

“Let’s see, she’s literally the only person in town aside from me and Tommy’s family you like. You stare at her with, I don’t know what to call them, googly eyes? It’s that look the dudes have when they see the love of their life, or whatever, in those shitty romantic movies we like to make fun of. I’ve heard you call her ‘sweetheart’—” She fake gags, and Joel sighs. “—you’ve gone over to her house to fix so much shit that, at this point, it’s gotta be a whole new house. You sneak over there every fucking night. Oh, and when she sees the lady next door, the crazy one who’s got a real hard-on for you—gross by the way—when she sees ‘you can call me, Sandy,’ flirt with you—double-gross—I’m pretty sure she’s plotting murder; you’re definitely plotting murder when guys hit on your girlfriend—which, I don’t get why the two of you pretend like you aren’t together; is she embarrassed that you’re so fucking old and ugly, or something?” His teeth clench, and he glares at her. “God, don’t give me the murder eyes, Joel! I was kidding!” She playfully punches his arm. “Kind of… I mean, I’m happy you found someone who loves you even though you’re a grumpy asshole and look like that.” She points at his face.

“You done?”

“Telling you you’re old and ugly? Sure. For now. But I have one more thing that gave you guys away.”

His eyebrow lifts. “What is it?”

“When she came over the other day while I was sick as balls and hung out with me, you slept. Joel, you do not fucking sleep if there’s anyone else here besides me, which is why if I wanna have a sleepover with my friends, I have to go to their houses.”

“Were we really that obvious?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew?”

She’s clearly confused. “I thought we were avoiding the topic.”

“What topic?”

“Like, relationships—you never said anything to me, so I figured it was something we don’t talk about.”

He cringes. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel…”

She smiles. “I don’t give a fuck if you date, Joel—if you’re happy, I’m happy.”

He matches her look. “I’m pretty fuckin’ happy. Are you happy with your uh, girlfriend? Have I met her?”

“Yeah,” she nods, grinning. “It’s Cat!”

His eyes round—he was under the impression Cat is her best friend, and he has met the other girl many times.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re way better at this secret girlfriend stuff than I am. I had no clue. I like Cat; she’s got all those neat tattoos.”

“She does!” she replies with a grin. “And I’m getting one!”

“You’re what?!”

Masterlist - One Shot

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller/reader #joel miller x reader #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #wheresarizona writes #joel miller x you #Joel miller/yo

3K notes · View notes