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highvern · 2 months

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Work Me Out

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, 18+

Warnings: working out, flirting, touching, almost car sex, making out, breast play, fingering, oral, face sitting, multiple sex positions, big dick mingyu, protected sex (gasp!), strength kink, dirty talk, choking, spanking :) lover boy gyu as always. let me know if i missed anything!

Length: ~5k

Note: y'all thought cheol rot was bad but the OG bias wrecker is back. dont come at me for gym terminology i go by vibes. replaced my gym crush with mingyu and this is what happened <3 i have a bonus/pt 2 in the drafts too but I'll wait to post it bc too much muscle pig mingyu is bad for the soul... and the [redacted]

to the anon that sent me a seok ask forever ago about his arms, im sorry i used it in this fic. but know i have a seok fic with exactly what you asked for in the works rn. everyone say thank you anon.

@bbychocolat do not hit my line about mingyu for at least 24 business hours i need to recover

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

read part II

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Figuring out the ins and outs of a new gym isn’t easy but it isn’t impossible. Go too early and you’re surrounded by creepy men old enough to be your grandfather. Right after work is a sure way to experience hoards of gym bros crowding around machines like they own them.

So you go as late as possible.

Only a handful of people are dispersed through the large space. A few run on the treadmills lined on the catwalk of the second floor, several switch through different weights in front of the mirrors. You make your way through the maze of equipment towards the leg press; your final sets before you can go home and wash away the grime of the day.

Or you would if someone wasn’t occupying the one machine you need.

Peeping your head around, you notice a black backpack and matching water bottle on the ground. You glance around, unable to find a clear owner since the next closest person is halfway across the gym doing a different exercise.

Would it be that rude to take the machine out from under someone if they’re not even using it? You could probably get in all your sets before the person even came back if you moved quickly.

You wait a few minutes. How embarrassing would it be to have the mystery person walk back up the second you sat down? But after five minutes pass and no one emerges to claim the spot, you set about changing the weights out.

And just when you slip into the seat, you look up and find someone approaching.

He’s tall, he’s handsome, and he’s barely ten feet away. Your saving grace is that he hasn’t spotted you yet thanks to his phone.

But that doesn’t last long.

“Oh! Sorry! Were you using this machine?” You ask, trying to sound cordial.

“It’s okay!” He smiles at you. “Do you need it?”

Yes.

“No, I can find something else to do.”

You rise to do just that when he stops you with a shrug.

“I don’t mind sharing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I take long breaks between my sets anyway so it’s no big deal.”

So that’s where he went.

“Okay, thanks.”

“No problem.”

He moves to lean against the wall, face buried in his phone once again as you work through your set. Honestly you think he forgot you were even there until you start standing up and he pushes off his perch.

Exchanging polite smiles, you skirt around him and snag your water bottle before occupying the same spot against the painted bricks. You try not to be a creep but watching the way the muscles in his legs bulge and coil with each rep is impossible to look away from. Especially when there’s just so much to look at.

He racks up twelve reps with ease and switches back off with you before wandering out of sight.

You work through two of your sets before he comes teetering back.

“I tried putting it back to your weight.” You laugh, sipping from your water bottle.

“Three forty? Ouch.”

“What? Should I have made it lighter?”

“Try heavier. Like four hundred.”

“My sincerest apologies.” You mock, placing your hand over your heart. “I’ll remember that next time.”

He laughs again before slipping back into the seat and working through the motions.

This time you don’t bother hiding the way you watch him over your phone. He looks good, it’d be a waste not to watch the swell of his chest or the stretch of his thighs. The gym shorts and snug black t-shirt only exacerbate how cut his physique is.

And if he makes a comment you can always twist your not so subtle gawking into a compliment about his form.

When he finishes his set again, he snags his bag and water bottle off the ground before turning to you. “All yours. Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too.”

And he’s gone.

Over the next few weeks, you learn mystery man works out at the same time you. He’s there when you arrive and remains when you leave after an hour and a half of sweating and gasping like a dying fish, only absent on Wednesdays when you manage the most last luster workouts of your life. The disappointment the first time you realized you were looking for the backwards cap sticking out amongst the free weights would have been embarrassing but what's wrong with a little eye candy while breaking a sweat?

And what a great view he makes. Your brief peeks into the mirrored walls are full of nothing straining muscles and glowing skin. The first day he did arms in a cutoff tee will go down in history as the worst day of your life. Only rivaled by all the other days he works his legs in shorts accentuating just how nice his ass is with every squat.

Your friends all ask when you’re going to talk to him again. As if you’ll just walk right up and interrupt the best part of your day. No, you’d rather watch him move across the gym floor from the corner of your eye, throw him a friendly nod, and go about your business than run the risk of making things awkward.

Unfortunately, doesn’t possess the same desire to remain a friendly nameless face like you do.

His name is Mingyu. Or that’s what the employee with glasses calls him while they joke around one night. You don’t mean to eavesdrop but they’re loud and the only exit takes you right past the U-shaped desk. Mingyu throws a grin as you pass by on your way out and the flash of teeth spikes your heart rate higher than any exercise you’ve done that night.

When he officially introduces himself at the water fountain the next night, you have to bite the urge to tell him ‘I know.’ Instead you snort at his extended hand, providing your own name over the firm shake like you won’t be haunted by the feeling of the calluses on his fingers or the heat of his palm for the next week.

What’s worse is how he says your name back, rolling the sound across his tongue and past his quirked lips.

And the final nail in the coffin is when you leave and you see the way he turns in the glass doors to watch, bidding you a goodnight with your name signed at the end.

Mingyu might be the worst gym crush in the world. Mostly because your thoughts of him extend beyond the brick walls he should only exist in. And partially because he’s caught you staring more times than you care to admit.

Not as many times as you’ve caught him, but the point stands.

No, the worst part, you find out, is Mingyu is an incorrigible flirt. And he knows it.

Tonight you’re off schedule, runny nearly half an hour later than usual.; work clothes sticking to your skin as you make your way towards the off shooting hall housing the entrance to the locker rooms. In a rush, you step around another body only to end up in front of one much more familiar.

“There's my girl.” Mingyu smiles. “Thought you were skipping out on me.”

My girl. My girl. My girl, my girl, my girl….

There isn’t a thought in your head beyond the bold casualness he drops that bomb on you with so you nod awkwardly and force yourself not to sprint the next twenty feet to hide.

Half an hour later, when you catch him watching you in the mirror over his own weights, the bastard smiles like the cat who caught the canary.

But you end up on top when Mingyu offers to spot you while doing weighted squats. He’s at your back, an appropriate amount of space between your bodies you wish he’d close. You don’t need his help. Your form is better than his (you would know, his ass and thighs give you tunnel vision when its his leg day). And the weight on the bar isn’t even enough to make you strain but why pass up on the offer? Especially with how Mingyu meets your eyes over your shoulder in the mirror with each dip.

And then he cheers ‘that’s my girl’ again when you re-rack the equipment with ease and it's over.

“Shit,” you grunt.

Mingyu pops up from his perch between your breasts under your shirt, hair a mess and eyes glazed. “Good?”

“No, your steering wheel is in my back.” You wince, attempting to wiggle away and ending up further up his lap.

“Sorry, let me just…”

The seat flies back under your combined weight, throwing your forehead right into Mingyu’s chin.

“Fuck!”

“Oh my god!” You gasp. “Are you okay?”

Mingyu’s head falls back as he releases a massive sigh. Each second that ticks by has you both coming to the same conclusion.

“Yeah,” you breath, sitting up. “I think this was a bad idea.”

“Oh…”

“I just mean like your car is small and you’re too big and I—“

The guffaw Mingyu tries to hide slips free too easily. “That’s what she said.”

“God, you’re gross.”

Your nose crinkles as you rise up, using his chest for leverage. It feels as nice as it looks and its the worst knowledge you’ve gained in you life.

“Sticks and stones,” he hums.

“Well this was fun. I’ll ugh… see you around?”

When you try to shift back into the passenger seat to exit, Mingyu’s hands flex over your thighs to keep you in his lap. His sweats do nothing to hide his semi. Something he doesn’t even seem to consider as a concern given the way he unconsciously curls into you.

“Or we can go back to mine.”

He’s trying and failing to sound nonchalant. Like he won’t go home and fuck his fist in the shower with the echoes of your sighs filling his ears if you turn him down. You can see it in his eyes. What hinges on his offer and how much you’ll both regret it if the tension fizzles and dies in his SUV.

From where you’re sitting, it’s incredibly difficult to think with your head and not your hormones. Mingyu is hot, he’s nice, he seems decent enough. His behavior doesn’t hint at him being a creep. If he’s normal enough to fuck in his car, is he not normal enough to fuck in the comfort of a bed?

The thumb stroking your thighs and the hopeful eyes staring you down make the decision for you.

“Yeah, okay.”

With his address in your phone’s GPS, you trail after his SUV in your own car. The roads are familiar because they’re the same roads you drive when you return to your apartment that turns out to be only three blocks closer to the gym than Mingyu’s.

All this time he’d been so close and you never even realized. Did he think about you the same way you thought about him when he drove home? If he did, you’re in for a night.

Rolling into a space only a few down from where he parks, you pause to hype yourself up.

People have sex all the time. It’s no big deal. I can do this.

A knock at the window interrupts your spiral, finding Mingyu smiling sheepishly through the glass. The muscles in your chest squeeze when he opens the door and holds it for you to exit; and threaten to explode when his hand finds the small of your back and guides you towards the stairwell.

Footsteps echo down to the hall, Mingyu only a fraction ahead to lead the way to a non-descript door with a seasonal doormat that's seen better days.

“Ugh, this is it.”

His apartment is shockingly clean for a guy your age. Not clean in the ‘I don’t own enough shit to even be dirty’ way. No, Mingyu’s apartment is cozy. There’s throw pillows and blankets on the couch. He has a lamp and bookshelf in the corner and the walls are adorned with a collage of artwork thoughtfully pieced together. Several personal photos are littered throughout, some with an obviously younger Mingyu propped next to what must be a sister or a cousin, a few of him with friends. One of him and a familiar man with glasses, their faces blurry but the glee clear as they’re frozen in time. Your lips lift with a soft smile at the personal touches bleeding into every corner of his space.

Turning over your shoulder you ask, “You and the guy at the gym are friends?”

Mingyu’s watching you with something unidentifiable in his eyes, stepping forward to figure out which frame you're looking at until he’s only a foot behind you.

“Yeah, we went to the same middle school.”

“And this one?” You say, fingers tracing the edge of the wooden frame.

“My little sister.” Mingyu follows, still only a step behind.

“And I’m assuming these are your parents?”

“Actually those are Wonwoo’s parents.” He chuckles. “These are my parents.”

Mingyu’s arm reaches around to point at the correct photo, his chest brushing against your back.

“Wanna give me the tour?”

Mingyu manages to show you everything in five minutes. The living room and connected kitchen you’re already standing in, the door of the hall bathroom, and finally his bedroom. You take a seat on the edge of the bed, discovering the new smattering of details that uncover more about the man waiting with baited breath in the threshold.

“Why are you over there?” You ask.

With arms crossed and shoulders up to his ears, Mingyu resembles a kid waiting to be scolded rather than a man who tried to hook up with you in his car less than thirty minutes ago.

“I’m nervous.”

You can’t stop the satisfaction from spreading to your face. “I make you nervous?”

Mingyu pushes off the door jam, shuffling forward until he’s standing a foot in front of you. “Yeah. I don’t really do stuff like this.”

“Stuff like what? Try and fuck girls in your car?”

“Haha.” Mingyu mocks, face descending until he rubs his nose with yours.

Your eyes slip closed when his do, breathing each other's air. “Stuff like what, Gyu?”

Your hands find the material of his shirt stretched across his shoulder. Each brush of his lips across your cheek, down your jaw, until he finds your ear.

“I don’t sleep around with girls I’m not dating.”

Oh.

“We don’t hav—”

“Which is not the best way to ask you out.”

You press him out of your space, far enough that you can look him in the eyes and see if he’s serious. The tips of Mingyu’s ears burn red but he’s looking right at you despite how embarrassed he clearly feels.

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“Ugh, yeah. I think it’d be fun. But you don’t have to! If you just wanna do this that's fine t—”

Whatever words Mingyu was trying to say fizzle on the tip of his tongue as you pull him into a kiss. He curls over you, pressing you further into his bed with every fervent pass. Wedging one hand under the small of your back, Mingyu lifts you up and carries you while he crawls to the center.

Your mind wanders to all the other ways he can manhandle you into the mattress.

He settles flat against you, hips cradled between your own while delving into your mouth. You fill your hands with his ass, dragging Mingyu’s covered cock against your core. A groan backs apart your lips as Mingyu falls into the curve of your neck.

“This is a yes to the date by the way.” You pant now that he’s taken over, hands scratching up his back in an effort to get rid of his shirt. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

Mingyu’s clothes disappear over his head and across the room, yours following shortly after. The heat of bare skin on bare skin is better than anything until he takes one of your breasts in his palm and the other in his mouth.

Every curse you know flies through your lips as he sucks and pinches until you're sore between the legs.

He takes the squeeze of your thighs and the rock of your hips as a greenlight, hands leading where his lips follow until it’s nothing but your panty clad core an inch from his face.

“This okay?” Mingyu asks in the fat of your thigh, tongue trailing fire across the skin.

You nod with a sigh, “Mingyu, please.”

He doesn’t need much more than that, the fabric barrier gone in a blink and his nose traces your folds until he’s dying for a taste.

Mingyu eats pussy like he doesn’t need oxygen. The path of his pointed tongue around your clit is nothing short of precise, meticulously tracing every ridge and curve until the sheets stretch under your fingers. When he flattens it to pay broader attention, your legs squeeze and Mingyu’s hands force them wide around his shoulders.

Your feet flatten on the bed and thrust up his mouth, wet and crude with fingers in his hair and your whines in his ears. Every suck of Mingyu’s mouth forces the muscles in your neck to lerch until they hurt and your head falls back. He takes pride in the way you drip for him, making the best mess he’s ever had the privilege to clean up.

You reward him with an lavishing praise at the next twitch of your insides, “Fuck, just like that.”

Taking advantage of the slight arch in your spine, Mingyu’s hand sneaks under your back, fingers unforgiving as they dig into your ass. He curls your hips up and buries a finger in your core with mortifying ease.

Between your legs, Mingyu catches your eyes. Pupils blown wide, mouths bruised around stuttered breath. A matching set of debauched expressions. He’s more familiar like this; skin glowing with sweat, and hair matted to his forehead. Next time you see him at the gym you know it's all you’ll think about. Next time you're alone in your room, or the shower, or the grocery store. Or anywhere you’ve day dreamed about him before.

He leans back to watch the digit disappear, only to reappear soaking. “Feels good?”

“Give me another and it will.”

You savor the rhythm he sets, thick fingers working to prep you for what you felt under his shorts. His tongue is hard and wet at your clit, fingers stretching and spreading until your stomach dips and you nearly buck him off as your clit swells from abuse.

Your fingers pluck at your nipples and Mingyu apparently likes to watch because he manages more enthusiasm, forces his finger to crook just the right way, and continues to suck even after you start screaming.

“Oh fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chant, voice cracked.

Something sounding suspiciously like a ‘thank you’ drops into the mix but Mingyu’s the only one to hear it. In his opinion, he should be the one doing the thanking; you just gave him enough spank bank material for the next six months.

You don’t dislike the taste of yourself on his tongue, his lips, his chin, his cheeks, and even his chest when you flip Mingyu over and aim to return the favor. He blushes when you lap against the hollow of his throat; embarrassed from the way he goes boneless with such simple affection.

He sinks into the plush of the mattress, propped up by the mountain of pillows at the headboard. Mingyu’s stomach stiffens under your tongue and the twitch blooms a smile on your face. Predictable.

“Sensitive?”

Your nails raking up the shape of his thighs turn the denial falling from his lips into a whine, and it makes you wonder what other sounds Mingyu will make with his cock in your mouth.

The vein bulging along the underside of his length gives your tongue something to trace along as you lap from base to flared tip, sucking down until it shines from spit and pre-cum. You take all you can until the curve of your throat protests.

Mingyu’s big and he’s loud.

“Oh God, shit.” He babbles with abandon, hands fisted at his sides until his knuckles turn pale.

You focus on the cock in your mouth rather than how pretty Mingyu’s chest would look covered in bite marks. How a bruise on his hip would be just visible when he reaches over his head to do pull ups, and red streaks from your nails on his bicep would make a great accessory.

A hand lands on the base of your skull, gentle until it's not. His thumb dips to stroke the bulge of his dick through your throat as you take him deeper. And like some ridiculous porno theres still an inch you’ll never be able to take even if you do nothing but let him fucking your mouth until the only thing you taste is cum.

“Fuuuuck,” Mingyu groans from a harsh suck on the upstroke.

He distracts you with his tongue on yours, keeping you from diving back down and destroying his ego from how quick you almost made him cum. Your one solace is the lazy grip you have on the base of Mingyu’s length, fingers tightening around the head while he cants into the squeeze.

You think Mingyu is going to plant you on his cock and make you ride it until one of you is crying. But he keeps pushing and pulling until you’re kneeling over his face, knees cushioned in the pillows and hands against the wall to steady you while he dives in again.

His head shakes back and forth, tongue out to swipe messily at your clit as you grind into his face. The last grip of sanity you have gives you the mind to reach back, jerking Mingyu off while he eats it, a cycle of moans moving through you; him into your folds when you squeeze from a grating pass off his tongue that has you whining to the ceiling fan.

“Shit, need you to fuck me.” You whine but don’t stop curling against the latch of his lips, legs stiff with ache.

It’s Mingyu who brings things to a halt, raising you away from his mouth until you're left on your knees while he stands to rummage in the drawer for a condom. You listen while the paint of the wall cools your forehead.

The hand at the dip of your spine makes you melt when he checks in, “Still okay?”

Nodding, you find him over your shoulder with a thick swallow. Mingyu’s nose follows the slope of your muscles, lips untying all the knots he’s worked into them over the past few weeks.

“Want it like this?”

“Yeah.”

You drop until your chest meets the bed and arch until it hurts just to put on a good show. Mingyu shuffles behind you, knocking your knees wider with his own, palms molding to your ass and spreading it apart to take a good look like he wasn’t tongue deep inside your pussy already. The room is nothing more than the sounds of grounding breaths; Mingyu watching the way your torso moves around the air, releasing a long exhale before moving closer.

The feel of his chest against yours was great, but the hard muscle of it along your back, his chain caught between and leaving a definitive mark, is life ruining. It shreds the last bit of humanity you’ve been clinging to since you dragged Mingyu to the parking lot and tried to stick your hands down his pants while leant against the passenger door.

No matter how well Mingyu stretched you for his cock it was never going to be enough. Taking the first inch nearly splits you in half. But you're soaked and needy; nothing short of the end of the world is going to keep you from getting the satisfaction of feeling him in your guts. You take it with measured breaths and affirmations to relax. Slow arches of his hips work him in until he’s flat with your ass and whispering absolute depravity into your ears.

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

Arching your ass higher, you whimper, “You’re huge.”

Your ass stings under his punishing hand, thrown forward by an involuntary buck of his hips.

“Don’t say that.”

You turn until you can look over your shoulder again, meeting wild eyes. “You feels so good.” You moan, eyelids low and wrecked.

“Didn’t—shit, think you’d have such a dirty mouth.” He bites into the side of your neck, sucking a bruise like a depraved teenager.

“I knew you’d have a fat cock.”

You get what you want so easily it's almost insulting; Mingyu’s hand forcing your face into the sheets and his hips rushing into you with pure need. Every prod into your cunt has you wailing. It’d destroy your self respect if you could think of anything beyond how he’s ruining you for anyone else.

Pillows topple off the edge of the bed as you scramble for a hold. Anything to ground you against the burn in your veins with every tight squeeze around Mingyu’s cock. His balls slap against your clit teasingly, more degrading than the way he has you bent in half.

“Harder,” you beg.

Mingyu falls back on his haunches, pulling you with him until you're sitting up right. His arm comes into view, curling around neck until your throat sits in the crux of his elbow and his hand latches on your shoulder; a crude headlock he uses as leverage to keep fucking into you. You’ve been choked but this is infinitely better. Whatever Mingyu wants to take from you, he’s in a position to do so.

“Gonna cum?” He nips into your earlobe.

His hand shoves its way between your legs, swipe roughly against your clit before you can even hope to answer.

A pathetic nod is all you manage thanks to the muscles gathered under your chin limiting your mobility.

Mingyu let's go then and your hands prevent a crash into the headboard, putting you back in the same position as before but you have to work for it now; ass bouncing in his laps as you ride him. Finding your balance, you drop one hand to your clit as Mingyu’s pinch your nipples.

“Let me have it, let me make you come." Mingyu pants into your spine. "Fuck you look so good like this, shit.”

He keeps rambling, flying with you towards the edge hand in hand; both breathless from the slap of your thighs against his.

“Mingyu, feel so good. Oh my god, oh my g—”

The softness of the pillows greets you once again while everything flashes white. Mingyu scrambles behind, fucking you into the mattress while you soak his cock. Muscles twitching, teeth ground till they crack, you come and come and come while begging him to do the same.

Mingyu gives in without hesitation, all his weight behind his hips as he fills the condom; dragging you back with an arm around your waist. Every jerk of his cock against your walls from the force makes you vibrate until he’s slipping out, soiled and used against the back of your thigh.

The last thing you register is his lips finding your shoulder again, rubbing back and forth as he comes down.

You fall asleep under the heat of his body for who knows how long, content in the mind shattering numbness of what just happened. Mingyu seems to feel the same, dead weight hanging half off you so you can at least manage to breath.

When you wake, whether it's twenty minutes or two hours later, Mingyu is snoring into the pillow, still naked. His lips pout in his sleep and you swallow the urge to shower them with kisses thanks to the drool at the corner of his mouth.

Even without the covers, you're warm. The kind of heat that slips over your skin, sinks into your bones and keens for you to fall asleep and stay. But Mingyu asked you on a date, not to spend the night. And you’d hate to assume and ruin whatever this is before it as a chance to start.

“Where are you going?” He pouts.

You don't make it two inches out of his arms before he’s pulling you back, tangling them around you so there's no chance of unnoticed escape. Mingyu digs his nose into your cheek and waits for an answer like he has all the time in the world.

Something tells you if he knew you were attempting to head home, Mingyu would throw a fit. And what use is that when you want to see what a night sleep with a giant human furnace is like?

“Bathroom.”

Adding to the list of information you’ve learned, Mingyu is a stage five clinger. He latches on to your back, guiding you into the shower stall for a quick spray down that leaves half your face, part of your thigh, and almost none of him clean.

He falls asleep against the base of your skull while brushing your teeth, because of course he has a stash of extra toothbrushes under the sink just in case.

And when you crawl under the fresh sheets, he pulls you into his chest, leaves a kiss against your forehead, and tells you he can’t wait for your breakfast date tomorrow.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu

#svthub #ksmutsociety #kvanity #svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #🫡 highvern

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studioghibelli · 4 months

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the end of the world- a joel miller x reader

summary: you had a strict relationship with joel that stuck to the rules. fuck, leave, repeat. it was only a matter of time until feelings were dragged into the mix. when joel leaves at the first sign of love, you're left wondering what you had done wrong. (rated explicit, 18+, mdni)

warnings: post outbreak!joel, jackson!era, implied fwb relationship, heavy handed on the angst, a whole lot of pining, a lot of flashbacks, and smut. (unprotected piv sex, fingering, clit rubbing, masturbation?, dirty talk, pet names, allusions to slapping/rougher sex, brief biting, a tiny bit of daddy kink.) ended with a bit of fluff

note: i think this is my favorite thing i have ever written. i guess i was in some sort of mood or sumfin. also i absolutely hate spell checking so sorry for any errors. enjoy!!

Joel used to be rough.

He used to imprint his name upon your skin through heavy handed grips and crescent shaped nail marks, left deep into the supple skin of your thighs. Like hieroglyphs on a wall of sandstone, he made sure the world would see what beauty he had left etched into your skin, like a canvas that only he had the privilege of painting.

He used to take you by the throat and kiss you with biblical fervor. He would kiss you so hard the taste of his spit lingered on your tongue for the days following, reminding you who you belonged to, if only for a few hours.

He used to sink his incisors into your neck, suckling at your skin like a vampire in search of an artery. He would leave deep patches of purple beneath your ear, the mark of a man who knew just what you wanted, the mark of a man who was more primal, more animalistic, than he was human.

Then, something changed.

Soft was he, on one fateful night, where his rough palms dragged across the side of your body, gentle waves of pleasure heaving, heaving, heaving, washing over you until you were a shell drowning in an ocean tide, consumed only by thoughts of him.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

A mantra, a promise, a prayer.

Soft was he, his lips molding to yours like cement stuck in the cracks of sidewalks, unwavering and unbreaking, filling you up to the hilt.

Soft was he, as he slipped his cock deep into your pussy, deep and gentle, hitting against every inch, every spot, that made your legs quiver just for him.

Soft was he, as he cradled your face in his rough hands, eyes boring in to your own, the curved bridge of his nose pressing into your rounded cheek, coaxing you, asking you, begging you, to cum for him.

Only ever him.

His hand's had done irreversible damage, taken many lives, and he pushed back the guilt for those crimes long ago, but Joel figured that perhaps holding your face in his hands was worth all the blood, the sweat, the grime and decay. Perhaps touching the skin of an angel was enough to bathe him clean from his past sins, enough to purify the monster which lurked within.

And then one day, he swore you off.

"Can't be around you anymore." He snarled, hand dragging down his face, heavy and hot with the burning poker of shame.

"Says who?" Your voice was cracking, the angry prick of tears stabbing at your eyes, like daggers dripping with bitter venom.

"Me. This ain't.... right. We should never have done this."

"Why isn't it right?" You were begging, trying your hardest to coax put a semblance of an answer from him.

"You're too young for this. For-for me. I ain't good for you."

"Where is this coming from? Just two nights ago you were making love-"

"That's the problem." Joel hissed. "Makin' love." He scoffed spitefully, shaking his head firmly. "It's the end of the fuckin' world and I'm worried about makin' a woman cum, makin' your eyes roll. I should be out fightin', I should be out makin' rounds and doin' my work. Ain't thought of anything like that since I've been with you. I have duties. Responsibilities. I'm too old to be sleeping around like some teenager."

You hated yourself for allowing a tear to slip, hated yourself for showing weakness in his presence. "What about your duty to me?" You cried out, hands tangling into tight fists. You felt your veins pumping with venomous resentment, wondering how you could have been so stupid to allow him respite behind the walls of your soul, sanctuary from the world around the two of you.

"I don't have no duty to you. You're not my wife, not my girl. You're just somebody I was fuckin'."

That was two months ago. Two long, grueling months.

This winter in Jackson was particularly brutal. Perhaps nature had been in tune with your heart, rocking and shaking and screaming in unison with your thoughts, angry and vengeful. Like Poseidon wreaking havoc on the ocean, like Zeus bringing hailstorms of lightning, like Zephyrus playing his hand in an assailing wind; you felt your rage through the soil, the packed snow, the shaking pine needles.

Everyday you would trek to your shop, sit behind the counter, and patiently wait for someone to stop by, wait for someone to ask how your day was (which you would inevitably lie about, tell them how good you were), and wait for someone to barter or trade with you.

A dozen chicken eggs for a woven blanket, a few sprigs of rosemary for some pencils, a handful of sheep's wool for some freshly pressed paper.

It was the same every day.

Rise, work, sit, cry, sleep, repeat.

For the past two months you had lurked around the corners of Jackson with a heavy gray cloud hanging over your head, and each day for the past two months you despised yourself for being so caught up with Joel fucking Miller, for being so upset he left you.

You lived in the smallest house in Jackson. There was no reason for you to take up a big one, no reason for you to have two stories, no reason for you to have a big open kitchen or spacious living room. What was the point? No husband, no children, no nothing.

You had tried to make it yours, and you had tried to make it happier since that horrible, awful, nasty thing happened between you and Joel.

You had bought a thick and oversized crocheted blanket the color of sand with a harvest worth of kale, thrown it over a soft and lived-in suede couch to curl up under. You had bartered a basketful of gourds for two knitted pillows, a brown dachshund stitched into one, and a ginger cat stitched into the other. You had picked up a backpack full of books on a run into the nearest town, settling on classics that you used to read as a young girl, in hopes you could feel that golden peace so often felt during childhood, when the only pressing matters on your mind were untied shoelaces and what mom was cooking for dinner.

A life long ago. A life you could barely remember. You were a small child when the world went to shit, barely starting school, with gaps between your teeth and messy, unruly hair. Still growing out of your sneakers, still biting your nails, still picking up worms from the rich soil with amazement and wonder bubbling in your eyes.

When everything happened, when the buildings were bombed and fields burnt, you were forced to grow up. Forced to toughen up, to be someone you never planned on being at such a young age. You ditched the sparkly backpacks and trips to the library for switch blades and look out towers, for uneasy silence and stale dinners.

Then you met Joel, many years after it first began, and everything seemed a little bit better. It started fast and rough, as though you both thought the world would implode the following morning. And then, when the realization that this was life, that nobody was going anywhere, things grew gentler, softer, more meaningful.

Joel's kisses grew deeper, his touches dragged out for longer, his mouth imprinted upon your soft and lithe skin like droplets of dew on blades of morning grass, gentle and ethereal. His words became breathless, sweet, full of desire and thick with honeyed praise.

"Look at you, such a pretty little thing. Shakin' like this, all for me. Who's makin' you feel like this, sweet girl?" Joel's middle finger was buried to the knuckle in your tight pussy, thumb gently tapping at your clit. A string of saliva strung from your nipple to his lips, where his plush mouth had been covering your hardening bud in gentle bites, sucking like a man on a mission.

"You." Your voice came out as a mewl, quiet and shaking. "You, daddy."

Joel grunted a primordial, brutish grunt that rumbled through the sturdiness of his chest, adding a second finger as his head ducked down to your neck, where his kissing resumed upon the blades of your collarbone. "Good fuckin' girl. Good girl. So fuckin' good, a god damn dream. You know that?"

The wall in front of you was covered in framed images you had found on your travels around Jackson. Some original art you scored in the back of a desolate thrift store, some vintage movie posters you found huddled in the dusty corners of a theatre, some polaroid photos you had taken with old friends.

You blinked the memories of him away.

With each day, you tried to convince yourself it was for the best. With each day, you tried to make yourself understand where he was coming from, why he did the things he did.

"You're just somebody I was fuckin'." You remembered his words like sandpaper grinding against the track of your throat, burning their fiery syllables into your tongue. How true his statement actually was, you weren't so sure.

Joel's forehead was pressed to yours, eyes fluttering open and shut with each deep thrust, hands entwined into your own. Your palms were pressed rigid and unyielding into his, Joel's thick fingers wrapping and molding into your smaller ones, chest rubbing against yours with each masterful movement of his hips.

His hot breath, soaked with the sweet smell of whiskey, fanned across your face, coating you with the ache he felt for you, the love he knew he had growing deep inside for you. Each breath he took was a promise. He was never going to leave you. How could he?

"Joel." You chanted, head thrown back in ecstasy, eyes full of stars.

"What do you want from me, darlin'? Say the word and its yours." Joel's voice was breathless and throaty, coating you in the sweet nectar of his affection, seeping deep into your pores until it filled your soul with yearning,

His cock, thick and veined, was slowly pumping as deep is it possibly could within your walls. You fluttered and ached and wept against him, bodies meshing into one, tight and close yet flowing and gentle, like the Bernini sculptures you saw in an art encyclopedia, a long time ago in Boston. Joel filled you to the brim with his length. You felt full of him, wrapped and wanting and wanton. For his eyes only. Only ever him, always.

"Right there." You begged, nails dragging down the length of his wide, sturdy, strong back, marking him with the love caked beneath your fingernails. That unspoken love that weighed heavy on your shoulders, like a wool blanket in the dead of winter.

When Joel's eyes met yours, hitting against the spot you begged him to touch, he had that gaze glossed over his irises, that heavy, awfully gentle look threaded within the chocolate umber of his orbs, the stare that only a man in love ever carried with him.

The memory stuck to your mind like glue on a school project, drying there with no hopes of ever coming loose.

That night, with Joel so heavy on your mind, you treaded heavily to your record player, sifting through the record's you had collected over the years.

"That'll do." You mumbled with dejected finality, putting the vinyl on the player as you lowered the needle.

Why does the sun keep on shining?

Why does the sea rush to shore?

Don't they know it's the end of the world,

Cause you don't love me, anymore?

As you listened to the sweet voice of Julie London, you looked around your kitchen, the pile of dishes only stacking up, higher and higher. With your hands on your hips you walked over, forcing yourself to do something with your night. You couldn't sit and mope, you had already spent too long doing that anyways.

You let the hot water fall upon the backs of your dainty hands, watching with glass eyes as it fell and dribbled off your fingers, the soapy suds filling the porcelain bowls. You cupped them in your hands, breathing in the citrusy scent, closing your eyes.

Think. You begged yourself. About anything else but him. Think.

Why do the birds go on singing?

Why do the stars glow above?

Don't they know it's the end of the world,

it ended when I lost your love.

You pricked the tip of your finger with the sharp point of the butcher knife, gently twisting it soft enough to only make the hint of an imprint, thinking to yourself. You had lived your entire life fighting, fleeing, hiding, escaping, yet it only ever felt like the end of the world once you lost him.

"Damn you Julie London!" You shouted, voice mellow dramatic and emotive, face planting into your arm which rested on the wooden counter.

"What'd Julie London ever do to you?"

The voice, raw and rough, startled you, awakening you from your trance. Before you could catch it, a puppy like yelp escaped your mouth, sharp and nasty against the ears.

You knew who that voice belonged to. The voice that lulled you to sleep, the voice that whispered sweet nothings as you lay naked and bare on linen sheets, the voice that called you good girl and sweet angel and pretty princess whilst crammed deep into your cunt.

Joel.

Turning so hard you nearly snapped your own neck, you saw him standing in the doorway of your home, tall and brooding, filling the heavy air with the familiar scent of pine needles and bergamot. He held a basket in his arms. A basket he had bought from your shop, many moons ago.

“Ever heard of knocking?” Your voice was nastier than you meant it to be, but you couldn’t help the emotion rising within the confines of your chest, beating at your ribcage like a wild animal locked in a zoo.

“I did knock. You didn’t answer. Took the liberty to walk on in and check on you.” He shrugged, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world, and slowly shut the door behind him.

“To check on me?” You scoffed bitterly, turning your back to him again as you resumed your cleaning. You heard the vinyl come to a stop, the air silent and palpable, moulding to your rage. You took in a deep breath, looking down at the sponge you were grasping ahold of a little too tight. “Two months go by, and suddenly today- of all days- you decide to take the liberty to come and…. check on me?”

Joel’s sigh, burdened with what felt like guilt, swirled through your ears. “Yes.” Was all he said, simple and plain.

Oh, you had a lot more to say than one meager word.

You were too nervous to meet his gaze, too worried your tears would come flooding, soaking through your skin and deteriorating until you were nothing more than a puddle of nothing on the wooden floorboards.

“I….” You struggled for a long moment, tongue twisted and stuck in your own throat. “I don’t know what to say to you anymore.”

You heard the sound of dense boots against the ground, felt the weight of the air behind you shift. He was close. His scent was coated around the inside of your nostrils, fogging your mind with past memories you swore you’d never ponder on again.

“I know what you want to say.” Joel’s voice was quiet, barely a whisper in the wind. “That you hate me. That you never want to see me again. That you hope I’m ripped limb from limb by clickers. Gunned down by raiders.”

Tears welled within your eyes. You didn’t speak for a long beat, sniffling as quietly as you could possibly muster. “After everything, you know I-…. even after you broke me. I-I don’t wish for that. Never even thought of that.” You admitted your terrible secret with a shaking voice, hand tightening so deeply around the sponge, your middle finger sunk straight through the material.

Joel’s fingers gently traced down the small of your back. An offer. You heard a gentle thump as he set the basket down, followed by his other hand pressing flat into your side.

“I’m scared.” His voice was full of emotion you had never once heard from him. “That’s why I left.”

“What?”

“I’ve lost everyone, ‘cept Ellie. Tess, Bill, Frank, Sarah.” His voice cracked, trailing off. “I couldn’t lose you, too. I can’t watch you…. can’t watch you fall victim to this world.”

You shook your head, dropping the sponge against the metal sink, tilting your head to look out the window which stood in front of you. The night sky was sparkling with millions of stars before you, snow flaking down from the heavens, coating the glass window pane with a copious layer of delicate snowflakes, each so different and unique. It was beautiful.

Joel’s left arm slowly wrapped around you. You wanted to fight him off, wanted to scream and banish him from your home, wanted to promise if you ever saw him again you’d kill him on the spot. But you couldn’t. Not when he was so vulnerable, so warm, so willing.

You shifted against him, leaning back until your bodies were close together. His hand rested taut against your belly, his other arm soon finding solace beneath your shirt, pulling you even closer.

“I’m sorry.” He finally broke the dizzying silence, chin nuzzling into the blade of your shoulder. “I didn’t know what else to do. I- I still don’t know what to do.”

You blinked away new forming tears, taking in a deep breath. “You could start by warming me up.” You were so meek, you were unsure if he heard your words.

Joel’s hands slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, pressing gently into the skin of your tummy, fingers massaging into the supple skin of your waist, your love handles, drawing circles into the line of skin right above the hem of your pants. Your back fell deeper into his chest as he touched you, felt you, as if he had never known your body before.

You could stand there and argue with him, cry and rage and scream at the universe, or you could let him apologize the best way he knew, let him make it all up to you.

“After this,” you managed to choke out, “am I still going to be somebody you just fuck?”

He wasted no time shaking his head. “You never were. You were, are, the light of my life. I don’t know what I was thinking.” His breath was hot against your neck, his lips pressing kisses, scattered like constellations, into your skin.

“You weren’t thinking.” You moaned a breathless laugh, head tilting to allow him access.

“No, I wasn’t.” Joel’s fingers slipped into your pants, palm cupping your pussy, hot and wet with the promise of his touches. “Damn baby, this horny already?”

“Haven’t been touched in two months. Sure you understand.”

He chuckled a deep, endearing chuckle, nudging his nose into your cheek. “Think I should do somethin’ about this?”

You nodded quickly.

“Words, pretty baby. Use your words.”

“Yes. Please, do… do something about it.”

“That’s my good girl. I’ll give you what you want, I promise.”

You felt butterflies brewing within your belly as his middle finger traced the middle of your green cotton underwear, rubbing where you swollen clit gently poked against. He knew you like the back of his hand, like a map he had spent years memorizing. Giving you pleasure, knowing where and how to make you cum, had become second nature for Joel.

“Don’t be ‘fraid to lean against me. Let daddy take care of you.”You groaned softly at his words, falling back into his body. His strong arms wrapped around you, keeping you up, bicep thick and muscled against you. “Push those down for me.”

You wiggled out of your pants and underwear, bottom half open and exposed for him. His fingers dragged across your mound, brushing against the outside of your pussy that cried out for his touch.

Joel slipped his index finger between your outer lips, finding your clit, slowly drawing circles around your aching bud. You sighed out, once again meshing in to his chest as he touched you, feeling the silkiness of your pink, throbbing cunt.

“I missed this pussy. So wet for me, so needy. You like it when I touch you? Like it when I make you feel good?” His words were hot in your ear, melting into your senses like dripping candle wax.

“Oh, I love it. I love it so much. I love you so much.” You were too caught up in pleasure to understand the weight of what you just said, head rolling against his shoulder as he teased your pussy.

Joel let out a quiet moan at what you just admitted, his hold on you tightening. He was never going to let you go. He sunk his middle finger into your tight opening, slowly hooking it against you G-spot, thrusting it up and down the way he knew made you cry for him.

Your knees were shaking, yet you had no fear of falling. As foolish as it may have been, you had complete trust in Joel Miller. You knew he wouldn’t let you drop. Your walls fluttered around his finger, clit begging to be touched once more. You lowered your hand, gently flicking at your swelling button, moaning out as he added his ring finger to your cunt.

“That’s it baby. Rub that pretty pussy. Cum on my fingers.” Joel whispered m, gently biting down on your ear lobe.

You felt your thighs quivering, belly tightening as your orgasm drew closer. Joel watched you with hawk like vision, relishing in the way your fingers traced and danced across your clit. Before you had the chance to announce your climax, you found yourself cumming on his digits, coating them in you sweet, slick arousal, screaming his name as thought it was the only word you ever had the chance to memorize.

When you came down from your high, Joel slowly removed his fingers, bringing them to your soft lips. “Suck.” He commanded gently. You did, wrapping your mouth around them as you gingerly took them in, all the way to the hilt, sucking them clean and dry, free from any of your cum. “That’s my good girl, my pretty darlin’.”

You shivered against him, your head falling back. Joel gently tapped the counter. “Jump up there.” He whispered.

You did as you were told, grabbing the collar of his flannel, pulling him closer.

“Kiss me, Joel Miller.”

And kiss you he did.

His lips found yours with the passion of ten thousand soldiers, sickly sweet and supple against your mouth. Joel was consuming you with this kiss, torridly leaving his mark into the soft ridges of your pouted lips, blanketing you with the desire he had for you that he so often tried to push down. Your fingers found his graying hair, legs wrapping around his waist until the bulge breaking at his jeans was pressed right into your bare pussy.

You grinded against him, clit still sensitive and aching from the power of your last orgasm. Still, you dropped your hands to his zipper, tugging them down swiftly.

“Want you to fuck me.” You whispered against his mouth, tongue sliding across his. “Want you to cum inside me. Make me yours.”

“You’ve always been mine.” Joel muttered, hand slipping down to remove his boxers. “I was just bein’ an idiot.”

“Then make it up to me.”

The tip of his cock found the slick lips of your pussy, and he slowly pushed himself in through on graceful movement, filling you to the top until your clit was pressed against his stomach. Joel felt your pussy clench against him, and he groaned, letting his head fall to your shoulder. He sat there for a moment, relishing in the warmth being inside of you provided, arms wrapped around you like a belt, pressing you hard into his chest.

You gently placed your hands on the back of his head, pulling away to look at him. Tracing over his features, you took every inch of him in. That Aquiline nose you had grown to love so much, the patchy beard littered with charming speckles of silver, that stray curl in the middle of his forehead that never stayed put. Joel Miller was beautiful. He was an enigma of a man. Stoic, masculine, tender, intuitive, full of emotions and worlds unknown to everyone. Everyone but you. He was a crazy, deep, beautiful paradox of a human, and he was all for you.

Joel slowly pushed out from you, before pumping himself back in. He did this a few more times, his eyes never straying from your own. His fingers slipped to your clit, gently rubbing the pad of his thumb against it.

“Think you can cum on my cock?”

You nodded.

A smile lifted the right corner of his mouth. “Tha’s what I like to hear.” He leaned down, kissing you again as he began fucking you, deep and slow, each move methodical and well planned, as if he knew just what he wanted to do to your body.

Your hands fell to his broad shoulders. His broad shoulders. That alone could have made you cum. The tanned slope of his beautiful, beautiful shoulders, collarbones thick and jutted out just right, followed by patchy chest hair, down to his soft belly that pressed into yours so perfectly. He was beautiful. You traced your fingers down the trail of his biceps, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch, straight to his wrists, lacing with his long, skilled, well worked fingers, palm rough and calloused, tough as leather against the softness of your sweet, smooth hands.

You drunk his figure in like a lovesick fool. Oh, you were, weren't you? So full of love and affection for this brute of a man, well aware he struggled with his emotions. You watched the crows feet by his eyes crinkle as he clamped his eyes shut, watched the line of his neck pulse as he threw his neck back in pleasure.

He was a Baroque portrait of lust standing before you, dark and brooding, thrusting into your cunt as if it were the sweetest thing in the world for him. He growled into the air with each pump of his hips, nails digging into your skin as he held you close, never to let go.

"Joel." You whispered softly, burying your face in his chest as your second orgasm fast approached. You weren't sure why you said his name, not sure what you wanted exactly, but Joel knew. He always knew. He just cradled the back of your head with his right hand, his other gripping ahold of your waist, pounding faster, deeper, harder, hungrier. You were all he wanted, all he ever wanted, all he ever needed.

Joel bit down onto your shoulder softly as he twitched inside you, and you knew his orgasm was soon to come. He kept the same pace on your clit until you were putty in his hands, legs tightening as pleasure washed over you. You both came in harmony, moans mixing and melding into the air which surrounded you. His cock painted your walls with thick, hot ropes of white, and your tightening walls milked every last lick of it out as your came hard, head dizzy with thoughts of him.

He whispered your name softly as he slowed to a stop, pillowing you against his body. "God, I missed you."

You nodded in agreement, sticky skin pressed together like two puzzle pieces. "I missed you." You pulled away, holding on to him for support as you slowly stepped off the counter. You gently pressed your palm into his chest, feeling his cum dribbling down your thigh. You smiled softly at the feeling before glancing up at him. "More than you know."

Joel gently ran his palm down your back as you slipped your underwear on, quickly following suit.

"What's in the basket?" You asked, pointing to the item he left alone on the living room rug.

"Oh. It was s'posed to be a peace offerin'. Makin' up with you was easier than I thought." Joel joked, and you gently slapped his shoulder.

"Whatever." You giggled, walking over to the present.

Inside were some paintings Ellie had made you that Joel never had the courage to send before, some sprigs of dried herbs they were growing in their back yard, some handmade goats soap from a lady down the street, and a long, narrow velvet box. You picked it up slowly, turning to look at him.

"Now if you don't like that I might as well go out and die in the woods. Took me fuckin' weeks to find." Joel admitted, rubbing his neck nervously. "I remember you sayin' you wanted one of them."

You slowly opened it, met with a shimmering string of pearls. A necklace. A necklace you had spent your whole life yearning for. Your lips parted with surprise. "I-I've never seen one in person. Only in those old magazines they had back at QZ."

Joel walked towards you, nodding a bit. "Spent a whole weekend with Tommy, all the way in Cheyenne. Almost got me killed." He chuckled, hands falling to your hips.

"Oh, Joel. It's beautiful. It's.... I've never seen something like this before." You whispered earnestly, gently sweeping your hair up. "Put it on me?"

He smiled a soft, rare smile, gingerly clipping it around your neck. He took a step back, admiring you, soaking you in, memorizing the way it looked on you. "Yeah, that was worth the trouble."

You smiled happily, falling into his arms. He held you tightly to his chest, fingers sweeping through your locks of hair. "By the way..." Joel murmured into your head, pulling away slowly as his fingers found your chin. Your eyes met in a searing gaze, full of summertime warmth that fell over you like golden sunlight. He stared at you long and hard, and you saw something like tears gloss over his gaze.

And when he spoke, his voice was calm, steady, devout:

"I love you, too."

3K notes · View notes

rinhaler · 3 months

Text

It'll Probably End With Me Being Forgot

CHAPTER SUMMARY : you never thought you and yuuji were the type to keep secrets from each other, but he doesn't need to know megumi kissed you. maybe he already knows... why else would he be acting so weirdly?

boyfriend!yuuji itadori x f!reader x bully!megumi fushiguro

WARNINGS : 18+, consensual sex, vaginal sex, creampie, cum eating??, face sitting, praise kink, drug taking, bullying.

WORDS : 6.6k

notes : am I actually posting wusyaname on a friday?? wild

LAST CHAPTER┊MASTERLIST ┊ NEXT CHAPTER

“Nervous for tomorrow?”

Yuuji whispers as he lies flat on his stomach with his arm over yours. Nervous is a good word, a very apt word for how you should feel.

It’s Monday tomorrow.

Your alarm will be ringing in a few hours for you.

It’ll be your first day back at university since you were spiked. It’ll be the first time you go to your class and see the girls who publicly humiliated you. And it will be the first time you are in the classroom with Megumi again since you destroyed each other’s sketch books.

Nervous would be a good way to describe what you should be feeling.

But, honestly, after this weekend and seeing how little Toji needed to do to send the fear of God into his son, you didn’t feel nervous.

Megumi is a paper man, and his father had no hesitation to piss on his parade, making him a small pathetic pile of mush. You aren’t nervous, not one bit. You're confused however, and you're wracked with guilt.

Because you've decided not to tell Yuuji about the kiss.

So much has happened, so much has changed in so little time. It wasn’t so long ago that you could barely pry Yuuji away from your soft folds as he devoured your intimate flesh. He couldn’t get enough of you.

And you were always close to being late for class.

Today, however, you wake up and he does nothing but press a gentle kiss into your shoulder and instantly goes to get shower and dress for class.

Is he losing interest in you?

It's a ridiculous thought you shake away immediately.

He’s probably just… No.

What is wrong with him?

Or maybe it’s you. Something is wrong with you.

There's no use dwelling on it now, not when class is right around the corner. It’s best if you just focus on getting dressed and talk it out with him later.

You decide to swap out your usual paint covered leggings and baggy t-shirt for a nice pair of figure-hugging jeans and a scanty crop top. If that doesn’t remind him how much he loves being intimate with you; you don’t know if anything will. You finish painting your face with light makeup as Yuuji re-enters the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

Not even a glance in your direction.

It’s only been a day since you had the best, most intimate sex of your life. And now he isn’t even registering your existence. Your lip wobbles as you try and hold it together. It’s dawning on you what’s going on.

This is Megumi’s fault.

He’s got inside of your fucking head and he’s messing and warping with your sense of self and your worth.

Why did he fucking kiss you?

Yuuji knows.

He must know for him to be so distant with you. No, he doesn’t, you argue with yourself. You breathe through pouting lips and try to bat away the tears forming in your lash line.

You startle a little when you feel Yuuji’s hand cup your shoulder. You turn to face him, seeing that he's already dressed. That’s why he didn’t look at you. He was getting ready for class! He isn’t ignoring you.

Of course he doesn’t know about Megumi kissing you, how could he?

The hand on your shoulder travels upwards to cup your face. His lips find yours and every insecurity you’ve ever felt in your life dissipates. He pulls away, resting his forehead on yours, the tips of your noses touching gently together.

He's searching your eyes.

“You look amazing princess,” he states. Your eyes shut softly and a tear finally breaks free and rolls down your cheek. He quickly swipes it away with his thumb, he even warns you that you’ll ruin your makeup if you don’t cut it out. “you don’t have to do this today y’know? A lot happened to you, take another day… hell take another week if you need to.” he assures you.

God he’s so fucking sweet you think you might get tooth decay if he says anything else to you. He kisses your lips again, and then your forehead before crouching down and resting on the balls of his feet. He holds your hands, delicately rubbing his thumbs over your soft skin as he waits for you to speak.

“I want to,” you tell him honestly, “but I think the longer I leave it the harder it’ll be.” you confess. He nods. He brings your hands to his lips and kisses softly.

“Let’s get you to class then. I wanna show off my pretty girl.”

His fingers interlace with yours. It’s weird that you aren’t running through the halls together. You’re early, only by a few minutes, but still. You’re strolling through the building with not a single care in the world.

You lean back against the wall outside of your classroom, the usual spot where you’ve lost count of how many times he’s kissed you too intimately for public viewing. This time, he does kiss you, but it’s soft and gentle.

He has so much fear in his eyes. He’s terrified about leaving you here. With those vile fucking girls and that piece of shit he thought was his friend. You smile, though.

It’ll all be okay.

Yuuji scowls as he hears giggling. Your blood runs cold. The girls snicker as they see you and walk into the classroom. He wishes he could get them expelled or something. Anything to keep them away from you.

He notices the time on his watch, it’s creeping dangerously close to 9am. Regardless of how early you got here, Yuuji is still going to be rushing to his class. He engulfs you in a hug and you smile warmly.

“Text me if you need anything. Okay baby? Anything.”

You start to speak but you both notice a familiar silhouette out of the corner of your eyes. Megumi. You knew you’d see him again sooner or later, but his presence is all consuming and downright miserable.

Yuuji frowns, but nothing more. He knows Fushiguro isn’t so imbecilic to try anything in front of him. You hold Yuuji’s face and turn him to face you. His loving brown eyes stare into yours. Every crease and every pore of your beautiful face. He can tell from one minor change if you’re okay. So he’s examining hard.

“I’ll text you Yuuji, promise.”

He kisses you one last time and stands in the doorway as he watches you find somewhere to sit.

Megumi and the girls are sitting near the back, so he smiles when he sees you take a seat in the front row closest to the door. You smile back when you see him mouth ‘I love you’ to you. You do the same, and finally he runs down the hallway to his own class.

It's a pretty painless class all in all, you were definitely expecting worse. You hear the girls talking in an insanely high pitch as they attempt to flirt with Megumi.

But of course, he's his usual stoic self. You do your best to avoid turning to look at them. However, when you hear them snicker and say things like ‘she pissed herself in the club’ you want a hole to form under your seat and suck you into nothingness. Your eyes bulge when you hear something you hadn’t expected.

“Shut. Up.” Megumi speaks in annoyance. You know he isn’t defending you, he hates you after all. But it still makes you smile to hear the girls try and defend themselves.

“I thought you hated her Megumi!” the redhead whines.

“I thought I told you to shut up.”

Regardless of your three bullies making unnecessary comments in the back, there are three students around you that offer their support, telling you that they heard what happened and that they hope you’re okay.

It's nice knowing that you had other people around you and not just your boyfriend. Your classmates didn’t know the full extent to your ordeal, of course, but it was still appreciated.

You're surprised when you see Megumi begin to pack away early. Apparently, he has a dentist appointment. He ignores you as he walks by. He gives you nothing but the gust of wind that breezes by from his stride.

While everyone is getting on with their work for the last thirty minutes of class, your teacher approaches you to discuss your sketchbook.

If nothing else, you know the trauma of being spiked in the club would provide a perfect sob story to get you more time on your work.

You still hadn’t pinned the blame Megumi for ruining your sketchbook. What would be the point? He’d only retaliate that you did the same to his.

You took full responsibility for the ink incident, but with the help of your drugging ordeal, he offers you a hefty extension on your work, thank God. He spends the remainder of his lesson talking with you and giving you tips on how to create a new body of artwork.

“Megumi actually started again from scratch, for some reason, and he’s managed to get a lot done in a short period of time.” he tells you.

You nod along as if you don’t have a clue as to why Megumi would start again. You actually do feel a little bad that you ruined all of his hard work.

You were just as bad as him in that aspect.

He clearly puts a lot of time and effort into his drawings, but you ruined them all in an instant. But you only feel a little bad, since he did exactly the same to you.

But is it fair to be so petty?

“Perhaps you could ask him for some advice.” your lecturer suggests.

Your lips pull into a straight line. You have to think of something civil to say that won’t expose your burning hatred of the black-haired menace.

“I’ll think about it.”

Logically, you know that nothing bad will happen to you; but you begin packing away early so you can immediately sprint out of the room.

Without Megumi holding the girls back, you're worried that they might try and do something to you. You stick to your word and leave the room as quickly as your legs will take you.

Yuuji will be finishing his classes soon, too. You consider going to the sports hall to meet him, but you know he’ll be showering again and changing before coming to meet you. You head towards the exit, deciding it's smarter to wait by his car instead.

As you're rushing, you collide with another student. Thankfully neither of you drop anything like a classic cliché, however it is a cliché that the student you ram into happens to be Megumi.

Isn’t he meant to be at the dentist?

Before you can get away, he covers your mouth with his palm and pulls you into the boys toilets. He locks you both in a cubicle and he remains straight faced as you began to cry.

“Shut up, stop screaming, I’m not gonna do anything.” he tells you. Your chest is heaving, but you nod. He seems sincere, but it’s hard to tell with him. He uncovers your mouth. Your eyes squint as you examined his nose.

He looks like he wants to kill you when you began to smirk.

“Too much sugar on your donuts, Megumi.” you speak as you wiped a finger over your own nose. His eyes bulge as he understands what you mean in an instant, quickly swiping the back of his sleeve over his nose to clear away the coke he’d snorted. “What do you want from me?” you wonder.

“Yuuji seemed unusually calm when he saw me today.” he begins. You raise your eyebrows, prompting him to continue. “I can only assume that you didn’t tell him that we kissed.”

Your heart stops as he speaks. You raise a finger to your lips and repeatedly tell him to be quiet. Anyone could be in here listening to you talk. “First of all, you kissed. I slapped you away.” you whisper-shout. “I should tell him, really, I have no reason to protect you. Especially after this.” you threaten, he does nothing but roll his eyes at your idle threat.

“Unless you liked it,” you want to argue his point, but he interjects immediately. “I was high so don’t flatter yourself.”

“You’re high now, do I need to worry? Have you got more misery in store for me? Or are you going to do as your daddy tells you and leave me the fuck alone?” you question.

He leans back against the wall on the cubicle you’re squashed in together and he observes you. He thinks it must be nice to have as much power as you do, knowing your enemies weak spot.

His will always be Toji.

“I’m actually done with you,” he explains. You’re sceptical, it seems too good to be true. “I found out something very exciting at your parents house. Do you want to know?”

“I don’t care, honestly.”

“I wasn’t going to tell you anyway. It’s more fun for me that way, but just know you’re fucked… and it has nothing to do with me.” he explains as he opens the door. You push him backwards so that you can leave first. You look at him in the mirrors above the sinks before walking out.

“Goodbye, Megumi.”

You’re loitering around parking lot waiting for Yuuji. You recognise a car that pulls up, and you smile when you see a familiar face.

It’s Toji.

He beams when he sees you. You walk over to him and give him those polite rich people kisses on each cheek. You smile again when you notice another person step out of the car.

This car isn’t Toji’s; it’s hers. She introduces herself as Tsumiki, Megumi’s sister.

“Nice to meet you.” you tell her.

“Did the brat give you any trouble? We came to pick him up, wanted to keep an eye on him.”

You lie, shaking your head. You’re sure he’ll manage to shake the information out of his son if he really wants to. He examines the space around him, waiting to see when his son will turn up. You can tell he’s apprehensive. He’s never been a hands-on father before. It’s all new territory for him.

He notices you examining Tsumiki. He knows exactly what you want to ask, but you're too scared. You don’t want to sound offensive or rude.

“She’s not mine princess, my ex-wife’s kid.” Toji fills you in.

“Dad she didn’t ask,” Tsumiki huffs. “Sorry about him.”

“Don’t apologise for me she wanted to know; look you can tell by her face. Right?” he gestures you, he's looking at you over his sunglasses with raised eyebrows, so you nod.

It isn’t lost on you that she doesn’t have the same jet-black hair as the Fushiguro’s. But genetics works like that sometimes, however in this instance your instincts are correct.

Eventually Toji’s spawn arrives; looking meek and submissive under his father’s intense glare. Toji questions why he looks so guilty, but Megumi doesn’t say a word.

Tsumiki is clueless. She knows about a girl who got spiked after the police came to question Megumi, but she has no idea that girl is standing before her very eyes, and it was his fault after all.

Toji has no intention of telling her.

“You’re really sticking around then, huh Toji?” you ask with a cheeky smirk on your face. Megumi scowls, he was furious that you were daring to have banter with his fucking dad. He still hates you, but he knows he needs to be smart around you now. Only because his prick of a father is staying for the time being.

“Yeah, I am.” he replies. “Maybe I’m expected to be a decent father and learn from my mistakes, yeah?”

There's something about Toji that makes you feel safe. He's like your guardian angel. You feel untouchable with him nearby. And Megumi fucking hates that.

Those few hours you spent with him in your father’s study are the closest you’ve felt to having a real parental figure in your whole life.

The family all move to get into Tsumiki’s car. But before they can leave, they're all drawn to the yelling, sprinting, pink-haired boy approaching you. He wraps his arms around your neck and smothers your lips in passionate kisses.

“Hello to you too, Yuuji.” you giggle.

“We need to go home, I need you home, now.” he explains. Tsumiki coos over the cute display. Toji snickers, while Megumi is seething. Yuuji says quick hello's to Toji and Tsumiki while point-blank ignoring his ex-best friend.

“Someone’s keen,” Toji chuckles, “Wrap it up kid. Don’t wanna end up with one of him, do ya?” Toji speaks gesturing his thumb to the side, pointing directly at Megumi.

Your face flushes with heat, at that.

He’s so forward and he doesn’t care. Tsumiki smacks his arm lightly as she gets inside of her vehicle and starts it up. You and your boyfriend step closer to your own car, but before you can leave Megumi moves towards you.

“So fucking cute.” Megumi starts. “Such a shame that you're keeping secrets, right?” he torments. Yuuji continues walking to the car door so he can take you home.

“No one is listening to you Fushiguro.” Yuuji tells him as he snaps open the door. He's about to duck inside, but Megumi has one last thing to say.

You're panicking. Is he really going to tell him?

Is he really about to spill, right fucking now, that you shared a kiss?

“Get in the fucking car ya little bastard.” Toji hisses as he grabs under his sons arm and tries to pull him away. Megumi snatches it back and gets closer to you. But he keeps his body positioned so that it's facing Itadori.

“I walked past the sports hall earlier, Yuuji, very interesting presentation I saw through the window.” Megumi smiles evilly. Yuuji slammed the door and gets closer to your bully.

“Shut the hell up,”

“Agreed, shut your fucking mouth.” Toji speaks as he slaps Megumi upside the head. “You deaf kid? I said: get in the fucking car.” he finishes, finally dragging his son around and shoving him into the backseat. “Can’t fucking help yourself, can you? Stop interfering in that girl’s life.” you hear him in the distance before slamming the door and sealing Megumi inside.

Whatever doubts you had about Yuuji this morning are quickly dashed. He buries them in a coffin and forces the nails in as he practically rips your clothes off your body.

He can’t keep his hands off you.

His gentle fingers caress each and every inch of your body while his lips do the same with soft, peppered kisses.

The days of him thinking you're made of glass seem like a distant memory as he fucks you. The slow, deep, lazy sex you had at your parent’s house is long forgotten.

He's like an animal, really giving it his all as he fucks you from behind. You're screaming and crying into the pillows. He doesn’t fail to tell you how much he loves you, either.

But you already knew that.

You convulse around him, and he empties himself inside of you. It's deep and creamy, and he's enamoured by the equally thick and creamy ring forming around the base of his cock as he kept drilling into you.

And it doesn’t end there.

He doesn’t care that your cunt is stuffed full of his seed. Yuuji pulls you around like a ragdoll as he lies flat against the bed.

His face is your throne.

And you're royalty in his eyes.

“Please princess, please. Need you to sit f’me, okay?” he looks up at you with pleading eyes. Something Yuuji Itadori has never been shy about since the day you met him is his love for eating pussy. In these few months you’ve been dating, you’ve never been let to forget that.

He praises what tasty slick you have, the best he’s ever consumed. So, to have you deny him of his fountain of youth, from his taste of heaven, has been unbearable.

“Need it s’bad baby. Please. Pleaaaase let me taste you.”

Who are you to deny him?

His arms lock around your thighs. You hold one hand against the wall to stabilize yourself and your other laces through his pastel pink locks. You bite your bottom lip as he sucks at your sensitive bead.

He's so needy and desperate; you can tell he hadn’t gotten to enjoy licking at your folds for a few days. It makes you shudder when you feel him suck his cum out of your hole and spit it back in.

“Oh God…” you sigh. Your heart rate soars. You aren’t going to last much longer. But that's a good thing for Yuuji. That’s exactly what he wants. “Yuuji—!” you cry.

His palms slap onto your ass and he pulls your heat closer to his face. He really wants you to sit. He squeezes your flesh tightly, it's a signal for you to cum. He doesn’t dare pull away and risk wasting a second of consuming your flavour as you straddled his head.

You can hear him though.

He’d be saying something like ‘go ahead and cum, princess’ so you do. You hum and groan through the pleasure of his tongue laving and sucking your clit and he loves the way your legs tremble.

You climb off of him and he sits upright. He locks a hand around the back of your head and pulls you in for a crashing intimate kiss. You think he might want to go for another round for a minute, but it slows. He kisses your cheek before turning you around and pulling you to lie down with him. Yuuji plays with your hair and your eyelids feel heavier.

“What was that all about, Yuuji? Not that I’m complaining.”

He wraps his arms around you and kisses into the crown of your head. “Does there need to be a reason? I just love you baby.” he reminds you, kissing you again.

“I love you too.” you smile. But you can’t relax, because something is playing on your mind. It had been playing on your mind the whole car ride home, but you didn’t want to mention it. It was even in the back of your brain while he fucked you into oblivion. “What was Megumi talking about before? The sports hall presentation?” you query.

You feel Yuuji’s body tense up against you.

Maybe you should have kept it to yourself.

“What? Are we listening to Fushiguro now?” he asks, anger clear in his tone.

“No! It’s just—”

He rises to his feet, quickly pulling his clothes back on and heading towards the bedroom door to leave.

Hopefully he’ll tell you in his own time.

His stare is kinder as you approach him later. He welcomes you to join him on the sofa with open arms. So, you hop quickly towards him and sit in his lap. You nestle into his chest as he strokes your body sensually with his thumbs.

“Hey,” he whispers hoping to get your attention without startling you. Your eyes find his, those beautiful hazel hues, and you feel as safe as can be. He looks… sad. His eyes are glossy, and he kisses your forehead forcefully. “What we did today princess, I need to do that every day.” he tells you.

“What do you—?”

“Please, please don’t make me explain. I love you, you get that, right? So please, I need to be with you like that every day.” he tells you. He's literally begging you. Begging for your body every single day. That isn’t something you could promise.

What has gotten into him?

“Yuuji I just don’t—”

“Baby!” he yells. He feels you jump in his arms and pulls you closer into his body again, shushing and cooing.

He’s sorry, he is, he’s really sorry.

He doesn’t know what’s gotten over him, he never ever yells at you.

You don’t understand and he can’t explain just yet.

“You know I’d never make you do anything you don’t wanna, right baby? Just this one thing, I need you to do this for me.” he tells you. His two hands hold your whole face and he looks at you with those pleading eyes. You don’t know what’s going on, but you can’t refuse him when he’s looking at you like that.

“Okay.”

You do as he asks, every single day.

It’s only Friday, but you wonder how much longer this is going to go on before he gives you the explanation you're patiently waiting for.

But it didn’t come.

He had the perfect opportunity to tell you when you went out for your usual Friday lunch into town, but he chose not to. Instead telling you about his classes.

You kiss him goodbye as you head towards the art building.

Would Fushiguro be so stupid as to think he’s still entitled to share your cubicle space with you?

Yes.

He doesn’t look at you though, maybe he’ll leave you alone today. Although that seems painfully optimistic.

He almost ignores you as you come in and find your seat. But he can’t completely, how could he when you looked like that? You’re always so glamorous and well put together, usually. But today, you’re in sweats with no makeup.

You’d be embarrassed to tell anyone the reason; but the truth is you were so fucked out from Yuuji going to town on you every single night with no reprieve.

“Not looking so high and mighty today, princess.” Megumi mutters. “In fact, you look depressed.” he adds.

“God. My fucking God. Seriously. Christ. Shut the fuck up.” you moan. Maybe the sentence was a little extreme. But with Yuuji keeping secrets and Megumi getting his digs in, you couldn't take it. “Did you... never mind—” you decided to keep schtum.

You wonder for a brief second if the reason Yuuji was so desperate to be intimate with you was because he knew about the kiss. But if he did, you’re sure Megumi would be in a hospital bed rather than in your personal space.

“No, I didn’t. Stop fucking talking about it. It didn’t mean anything so shut your fucking mouth.” Megumi hisses through gritted teeth. “Neither of us want anyone finding out, seems like one thing we agree on, so stop bringing it up.” Megumi finishes.

You nod in agreement. If anyone finds out, you'll be mortified. Although you didn’t do anything wrong – it would seem so much worse than it is since you didn’t immediately confess the truth to Yuuji. Although, he seems to have a dirty secret of his own.

“Interesting that you decided to keep it to yourself, though. Why?” Megumi contradicts himself as he presses for more information. You lean over to him, hissing back at him just as he had to you.

“Don’t you think you’ve blown into my life like a hurricane and fucked up enough?”

You sit back upright as your lecturer approaches your cubicle. He commends how well the two of you are getting along, going as far as to compliment you for taking Megumi under your wing.

You cringe with embarrassment as he mentions the fact you’d discussed him helping you build your sketchbook back up to full health. Megumi smirks at that. Your lecturer leaves you be, and your eyes weld shut as you feel Megumi turn to you with a wicked grin.

“What do you say, princess? Gonna let me help you out?”

“I’d rather die, actually.”

“That can be arranged.”

You scoff, deciding it would be best to focus on your work once again. You need all of the help you can get in restoring it to its former glory.

Your blood freezes over as you feel Megumi’s seat scrape across the floor. He has no reason to get up other than to go to the bathroom or to taunt you.

He brings all of his own equipment and he doesn’t use paint so he had no use for going to the sinks to get water to clean paintbrushes. You jolt as you feel one of his hands rest on your shoulder and the other on your thigh. He lets his head settle carefully on your other shoulder.

He's examining your sketchbook.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you ask him.

“You’ve done more work than I expected in such a short time, especially after your… unfortunate drinking incident.” he hums, the vibrations go through your ear and make you shudder. He smirks at that. “I think you can do better than this.”

“Okay.” you huff. “Now, tell me what you really want.” you utter, it's like he's undeserving of the effort of your breath. Complete derision drips from your tongue.

He turns his head so his mouth is level with your ear; he wants each and every word he speaks to cut deep.

“I was just wondering if Yuuji has told you about the sports hall presentation I stumbled across yet.” he whispers. The soft lilt in his tone tumbles straight into your ear canal. You want to turn and face him, but when your head moves a little you consider that his lips might find yours again.

“Why don’t you tell me Megumi?”

He tuts, and tuts, and tuts some more. “Oh… I couldn’t do that.” he expresses. “You heard my old man tell me not to interfere, right? I’m sure Mister Perfect will tell you when he’s good and ready.”

He's being sarcastic and patronising. But still, he's right. You’re sure he’ll tell you…

All in good time…

You gather your things and leave class. It actually doesn’t irritate you that Megumi is walking by your side.

He’s quite tolerable when he’s quiet.

You're a little confused when you arrive at the car park. Yuuji’s car is nowhere to be seen. Toji’s is, though. He steps out to say hello to you again.

“Somethin’ wrong sweetheart?” he wonders.

“Yuuji’s car isn’t here, I don’t—”

“Get in, I’ll take you home.” he says as he opens a door for you to hop in. You nod in agreement. But you think you better text Yuuji in case he comes back to find you.

Having Toji around is really coming in handy for you.

And maybe, just maybe, it’ll help Megumi work through his issues too.

The car ride is awkward as Megumi refuses to speak. Toji makes him sit in the back, like a little kid.

His dad doesn’t care that he's pouting, though. He's being sweet and talkative, asking you about your day and your classes. He picks up on your appearance too, but he isn’t rude about it. He simply asks if everything is okay, and you nod.

You think so, at least.

He waves goodbye through the window as you get out of the car. You're staring at your front door as Megumi gets out and sits in the front. They drive away, and you're still staring.

Why were you so nervous?

Your stomach sinks as you enter the bedroom you share with your boyfriend. He halts all movements and he looks like a deer in headlights.

He's… packing.

Why the fuck is he packing?

“You’re leaving me—?” you ask him.

“No! Baby, I didn’t want you to find out like this that’s why I came home early.” he tells you as he comes closer to you, but you back away, and it made his heart ache. You’ve never avoided his touches before, you’ve never evaded his desire to love you. “Please let me just—”

“You are. Oh my God! You’re fucking leaving me!” you cry. He's rambling about how badly you need to listen to him, to hear him out. But you can’t. “It's really something that I should have trusted Fushiguro over you.” you spit. You immediately regret saying it, but it's too late to take it back now.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“Don’t dare try and take the moral fucking high ground when you’re packing your bags to run out on me.” you clap back. He runs his fingers through his hair and sits with his head in his hands on the side of the bed. “You know what?” you ask as you drop to your knees. “I’ll help you pack.” you lie, zipping up his suitcase and picking it up to throw down the stairs.

“Stop it! Put it down!” Yuuji shouts. He wraps his arms around your body so you could do nothing but wriggle and writhe against him.

“Let me go! I hate you! I fucking hate you, Yuuji!” you bawl as you do all you can to get free. Tears stream down your face as you lie to him. You just want to hurt him like he's hurting you.

But it's not just hurting him.

It's killing him to hear you say something so vile.

He knows you don’t mean it, but it's still the worst pain he’s ever felt.

He manages to pull you down onto the bed and subdue you. His eyes water as you burst into loud, unforgiving tears and cover your face. He’s gone about things in the worst possible way. He should have known it would turn out like this, but he really thought he was doing the right thing.

“Baby.” he whispers.

You uncover your face and he was hovers above you. You stop crying for a moment, and he hates how bright and shiny your face was with glittering tears.

It’s his fault.

And yet, for some reason your heart is racing. His face lowers and your hands clasp around the back of his head. Your swollen puffy lips found his in a deep, bruising kiss. You feel all of the air in your lungs escape. You couldn’t get enough of him. How could you say you hate him when you there is so much tension between you to kiss him like this?

But you remember his suitcase and push him away. You swipe the back of your hand over your lips and gather your breath.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, why did you kiss me? Stay the fuck away from me Yuuji.” you pant, your tears breaking free again.

“BABE! Please! You’re so fucking stubborn will you let me talk?” he yellS. “I’m not fucking leaving you, I promise. Not like you think, I need you to let me explain.” he states. You're receptive, but still terrified.

“Not like I think?”

He opens his arms, inviting you inside. You're hesitant, but allow it. He lets out a little chuckle and shakes his head when you ask him if he’s met another girl.

You are and will always be the only girl for him.

He pulls you both down, so you're lying on your sides with your heads on the soft pillows. Your eyes focus on his as you allow him to speak.

“The presentation Fushiguro was talking about, it was about a trip. And it’s mandatory.” he tells you.

This is the best possible outcome.

He isn’t leaving you and he hasn’t met someone else.

Did he really think you were going to go crazy over a weekend trip?

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want us both to be upset about me leaving. I just wanted to love you as much as I could and have as much sex as possible before I had to go.” he sniffles.

That’s not the type of thing you say when you’re only leaving for a weekend. Your lip wobbles and your eyes filled again.

This is killing him.

He doesn’t want to fucking go. He doesn’t.

“How long will you be gone?” you weep. His eyes close as he tries to hold back his own tears. He isn’t ignoring you, but he knows as soon as he answers it's real. “How long Yuuji.” you whimper.

He breathes. Tears leave his eyes silently, but he quickly wipes them away. “Three months.” he answers, his voice cracked and broken. You break down into tears again and he hugs you closer to him. How are you going to live without him for three whole months? “I’m so- I’m so s-sorry.” he mutters, trying to control his breaking voice.

“Where will you— How far are you g-going?”

“It’s um, a tour of Europe.”

You feel your heart tear and tear with each sentence he speaks.

You’ll be alone in the house with no one to come home to and cuddle each day and night. No one to talk about your day with or tell you about their own. You’ve had relationships end and felt less pain than this.

He's quite literally your other half. The only person who could possibly complete the puzzle of your heart and you're losing that for three months.

“Please just uh- I need you to,” he stumbles over his words. Unable to process what he was actually about to ask, to speak. “Please tell me you don’t really hate me. You don’t, do you? I love you, I love you. Please, I need you to tell me you don’t really hate me…” he speaks with minimal voice breakage.

Tears roll out of his eyes but he manages to keep strong. You, however, are a mess. How could you say something so abhorrent to the man you love, the person you loved more than anything in the world? You wrap your body around him. Crying into him heavily and kiss him all over.

“I love you Yuuji, I’m so so sorry.” you blubber. “I could never hate you. I’m sorry, Yuuji I’m so fucking sorry. I love you; I do. I really fucking love you.”

You're sick. You don’t want to eat, to go to the bathroom, to sleep. You don’t want to waste a single second of time with him.

“I have to leave on Sunday.” he speaks into your hair, almost silencing his voice. After tonight you have one day together. One day before he leaves you for three months.

“I feel like I’m dying.” you confess. He kisses your neck before speaking again.

“I know. Me too.”

205 notes · View notes

duckprintspress · 16 days

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Fandom 101: Getting Started on Fanlore.org

Not long ago, we at Duck Prints Press decided that we’d like the Press to have a page on Fanlore. To accomplish that, Press contributor Shea Sullivan made an account and figured out the nuts and bolts on how to add pages to Fanlore. Turns out, it’s not very hard, and now in this guest blog post, Shea will teach y’all how to do it too!

Making Your First Fanlore Page!

Hello! I am an editor on Fanlore as of a few days ago. Before that, I’d worked with mediawiki (the open source platform Fanlore uses) for unrelated projects, so I had a general understanding of how things worked, but no idea how Fanlore preferred their pages to be formatted or organized or linked.

This is how I got started!

First: What is Fanlore and Why Should You Care?

Fanlore is a wiki specifically dedicated to the fandom experience. It’s not for canon info about a specific fandom; rather, it’s for information about how fans interact with media and each other. Fanlore is run by the OTW, the same organization that brings us our beloved AO3. This context helped me in understanding the focus of Fanlore. It’s about fandom: the ups, the downs, the trends, the drama…all the things that can get lost forever when sites disappear or there’s a purge. And that said…well, you may still not care. But if you do, read on!

Second: You Care. Now What?

(read more)

Get an account. Right now. It’s worth getting the account, because you won’t be able to create new pages for a few hours. So, get the account first, figure out what to do with it later.

Go to fanlore.org and click on “Create Account” in the upper right-hand corner:

Third: You Have the Power (Soon)!

Read up! No need to invent the wheel in this post – they’ve got some great resources for getting started already written on their webpage.

Fanlore Getting Started Page

General Help Pages on Fanlore

Four hours after you create your account, you can create pages! Congrats! There are a ton of help pages out there, but the questions I had initially were:

How do I make sure this page doesn’t exist already?

Search. Search for the page. Search for key phrases associated with the page. A page name is a fiddly thing, so search for significant phrases in a few different ways before you determine it doesn’t exist. Always make sure you check before you set out to create page!

How do I add this page?

If it’s not there, you’ll see it come up in red when you search. Type the page name you want to create in the search bar. Click “Search” to get all the results, and then click on that red link.

How do I format this page?

You now have an empty page. When I was getting started, my big question was: what should my page look like? Well, Fanlore has templates that can help with that! The templates are in a markup language, but do not fear! Copy and paste the template (everything in the blue box on the template page, typically starting with curly braces), make some updates, and click “Preview.” You can repeat those steps indefinitely until you get the hang of the markup. There’s also a ton of information on the Fanlore.org cheatsheet. (If you’re still confused, keep reading, there’s more specifics under the infobox section.)

Once you have the page created and published, you can edit it without the markup language if you prefer – there’s “Edit,” which gives you a non-code-based option, and an “Edit Source” button, which gives you the code-based option.

If your proposed page topic doesn’t have an official template created for that topic, you can look up similar pages and see how they’re structured. If you’re not sure how they managed to make something look a certain way, click the “Edit Source” button and look at the code there to get a sense of what they did. Be sure to cancel out of the edit when you’re done so you don’t make unintentional changes to someone else’s page! Some pages are locked down (like the template pages) so you can’t make edits, but most “normal” pages will have those links at the top so you can dig in and see what’s there and how the people who wrote that page made it look the way it does.

How do I add an infobox?

Those infoboxes on the right of a lot of pages give a quick overview of important information. These are templates, and you can find a list of available infobox templates here.

The templates, when you click into them, have a heading and some info that you can fill in. You can’t remove items from the template without making a new template, which I don’t recommend trying when you’re getting started. Use the template, fill in the information, and mark “N/A” if you don’t have information to insert in a specific field. A sample template for an infobox looks like this, and you fill in information after each “equals” sign. You can add a list, and you can add links to these after the equals sign using the markup for internal and external links on the Cheatsheet.

{{FanProfile |name= |alias(es)= |type= |fandoms= |communities= |other= |url= }}

If you’re still confused, let’s go to Astolat’s fan page and click “Edit Source” and see how the infobox looks behind the scenes:

See how everything that was in the original template is still there, there’s just a list of information after the equals sign?

And here’s how it looks formatted:

How do I categorize this page?

Categories are important because they help Fanlore’s back-end coding group pages together so people can find the page you’ve created and so the page is in the right place in the site map. If you can’t figure it out, though, don’t worry, there are people who will find it and take care of it!

If you have an infobox from a template, this is taken care of.

If you didn’t use an infobox template, you can add a Category to index the page.

Finding a Category can be a little overwhelming. If you have an example page (another page that contains the same type of content as yours), you can scroll to the bottom of that page and see what Category has been assigned to it. You can add that Category to your page by editing the source and adding that category into your page at the bottom with 2 square brackets, like this: [[Category:YourCategory]]

Use “Preview” to make sure you set it up correctly before saving the page.

If you need to find a category and can’t find a good example page, I recommend going to the sitemap, finding what fits your article the best, and clicking into it. Categories are set up in hierarchies, so click through until you find the Category and Subcategory that fits best.

Add it at the very bottom of the page, and it should show up when you preview, at the very bottom of the page.

How do I add those nifty citation references[1]?

Review theFanlore page on citation formatting for details. The basics are:

Add a blank References heading at the bottom of the page.

Add tags and include the source information.

What is the difference between a citation and an external link? Good question! I don’t know for sure, but the way I’ve been using it, if I make a statement about a thing and I want to direct you to the “proof” (article, webpage, etc), I will use a citation. If there is a thing I’m linking to because it is relevant but not as proof of what I’m saying on the wiki, I will add it as an external link.

Fourth: Don’t Worry

You’ll find there are a lot of instances when you might not be sure what the “right” way is to do whatever it is you’re trying to do. Don’t let that stop you! Do a little research, do your best, and be okay with a learning curve.

The thing about wiki editing in general, and this includes Fanlore, is that it’s a community project, and everyone is doing their best. It’s worthwhile to think about trying to make your pages consistent with other pages where you can, because it will help people who are trying to find what you’re providing. So, poke around similar pages first and look for common trends in how they’re organized, and mimic that for your own page.

All that said, there is very little hierarchy in editors and few rules set in stone. It’s a community site put together by volunteers. You may find that you’ve labeled, referenced, cited, categorized, etc, a page incorrectly, or that you added a page that was already there under another name, or you may have put in a canon page when that’s really not what Fanlore is for. No problem! A page can be reverted to a previous version. It can be removed by a “Gardener” (higher-level editor), or edited by someone else who is more familiar with the inner wiki workings, or you can even tweak it yourself when you learn a better ways to code the page.

There is always a path forward, so get in there and get started!

Happy creating, happy fandom, and welcome!

GO VISIT FANLORE NOW!

#duck prints press #resources #tutorials #otw #ao3 #fanlore #fanlore.org #how to #fandom #fandom wiki

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fanfictionalraven · 1 month

Text

Reno

Title: Reno

Summary: The reader and Dean were best friends until one fateful night. Now she needs his help on a particularly difficult case but can they work together?

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer

Word Count: 2,928

Warnings: Angst

Author’s Note: This story was originally posted by myself under the account Winchestersgirl92. It was published in 2017.

You sigh, running your hands over your face, as you lean back in the chair of yet another dusty, old motel room. A couple of takeout boxes sit next to your laptop on the table, untouched. You weren’t hungry anymore. A fourth victim had just been found.

You had rolled into town two days ago, confident you had a case on your hands. An easy case at that. Three victims, all weird, unexplainable deaths. At the morgue, you’d discovered a hex bag with each of the bodies. So, you returned to your room and settled into your research, trying to connect the dots. You’d spent the last two days retracing every step the three victims had taken but nothing panned out. Every lead you found was a dead end and, because of you, another person was dead.

You grab your phone and quickly find the contact you need. DEAN. Your finger hesitates before you change your mind and scroll back up to BOBBY. You press his name and put the phone to your ear, closing your eyes as it rings.

“Yea,” Bobby says. You can’t help but smile at the gruff voice on the other end of the line. You had known Bobby Singer for most of your life. He’d been a close friend of your father’s which practically made him your uncle.

“Hey, Bobby,” you say into the phone. You can almost hear the smile in his voice when he answers you.

“Y/N. How’ve you been?” He asks. You sigh and shake your head, knowing he can’t see you but your silence speaks volumes. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve got a case I can’t crack. Need some help,” you tell him. “A witch in Hastings, Nebraska. Should be easy enough but I can’t figure out who it is and someone else just died. I was gonna call Dean but I don’t think he’ll answer.”

“Well…I got him and Sam here now. I’ll send them out your way,” he tells you. You frown slightly, confused.

“Sam? But I thought –”

“Long story, kid. You’re about four hours away right now. Dean can make that in about two and a half,” he says. You thank him and set the phone back down, leaning back in your chair again.

Sam Winchester had died. Bobby had told you himself just a couple months ago. Sam had been like a brother to you and hearing of his death had hit you hard. But you knew it was nothing compared to what Dean was going through. His whole life had been dedicated to making sure his little brother was safe and taken care of. You had tried to call Dean then but all your calls went unanswered. You had been worried but you knew Bobby would keep an eye on him.

Now Sam was alive. You were overjoyed, of course, but a piece of you was anxious. You hoped it had all been a misunderstanding. Sam had never really died. He’d just slipped far enough away that everyone thought he had died. But you knew better. You’d been in the life long enough to know that there are ways. Dean knew these ways and would stop at nothing to get his little brother back.

You sigh again and close your laptop. You had a couple of hours before Sam and Dean would arrive and you were beat. The bed was calling your name loud and clear so you answered, falling face first onto it. Sleep overtakes you quickly, as do the nightmares.

You jolt awake, a few hours later, sitting upright immediately. You squeeze your eyes closed, trying to catch your breath. Just a nightmare. It was just a nightmare. It wasn’t real.

“Alright there, Y/N?” A voice asks from across the room. Your eyes shoot open and you reach for your gun before freezing as your Y/E/C eyes meet green ones. Eyes you hadn’t seen in years. You swallow hard as your hand slowly withdraws from the gun.

“How the hell did you get in here?” You ask, never tearing your eyes away from him. He shrugs.

“Saw your car outside. Told the man at the desk I was meeting with the girl in room 12 and he gave me a key. You should probably start staying at more reputable places,” he tells you. The two of you stare at each other in silence for another minute before the door opens, drawing your attention. Sam steps in through the door, three cups of coffee and a white bag in his hands. He smiles widely when he sees you awake.

“Hey!!” He says, setting everything down on the table. You jump up from the bed and rush over to him, throwing your arms around him tight. He laughs lightly and returns your embrace, squeezing you slightly. “Haven’t seen you since –,” he stops, thinking, and you let him go, looking up at him.

“Since you left for Stanford,” you say. His face falls slightly and you reach up, putting your hands on his cheeks. You study his face and find it hasn’t changed much over the years. His hair is a little longer and his eyes a little sadder. You let him go then turn for the table, grabbing one of the cups. Sam opens the bag and pulls out a donut, handing it to you.

“Hope you still like jelly,” he says. You smile widely and kiss his cheek.

“God, I’ve missed you, Sam,” you tell him. He laughs as you walk over to the bed. You sit down and start on your breakfast, feeling Dean’s eyes still on you. Sam glances between the two of you as he picks up his own cup.

“When was the last time you two saw each other?” He asks. You open your mouth to answer when Dean cuts you off.

“August 15th, 2005. Reno,” he says. You frown at the memory and look up at him, his eyes boring into yours.

You had met the Winchester family through Bobby when you were about 18 and you and Dean had instantly clicked. It was like you had known each other your entire lives. He quickly became your best friend and you spent the next few years tagging along on hunts with them. As you’d grown older and Sam left for college, the two of you were inseparable. Partners on every hunt you took on and damn good at it too. And then…Reno. You hadn’t seen each other or spoken since.

You blink back tears and look back at your cup of coffee quickly, clearing your throat.

“Right, so, dunno what Bobby told you. Three vics when I got here. Hex bags. I can’t figure out who it is. Fourth victim was found early this morning. I haven’t actually checked out this body yet,” you explain before taking a long drink from your coffee. Sam nods and looks at Dean.

“You two wanna hit the morgue and I’ll see what I can dig up?” He asks. Dean looks at his brother and Sam frowns. “Or…Y/N and I can go to the morgue.” You stand, finishing off your donut, and look at Sam.

“Let me freshen up and change,” you tell him. He nods and watches you walk into the bathroom as Dean stares out the window.

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

You and Sam leave the motel in your car. You glance over at him as you drive through the town and he smiles at you.

“I was sorry to hear about John. Bobby told me what happened. I would have called but I didn’t have your number anymore,” you tell him. His smile falls slightly and he shrugs, looking out the window.

“That was a while ago. You adjust,” he says. “You could’ve called Dean.”

“Dean doesn’t answer when I call anymore,” you say, plainly. He looks back over and you feel him watch you, waiting for an explanation. You don’t offer one as you continue to drive in silence.

The two of you get to the morgue and you introduce Sam to the medical examiner as your partner. He takes the lead, asking the same questions you had about all the other victims. The ME gives you a small plastic bag containing the same hex bag you’d retrieved from the other three bodies. You go back out to the car and start towards the fourth victim’s house to speak with her husband. You glance over at Sam as he carefully takes apart the hex bag.

“You’re gonna make me ask, aren’t you?” You ask him. He looks up at you, confusion evident on his face. You sigh and look forward as you drive. “Bobby called a couple months back and told me you were dead, Sam.” You look over at him again and watch his confusion evaporate. Heartache takes its place and you look forward again quickly. “What did he do?” You ask, your voice quiet. Sam hesitates, seeming to debate whether or not he should tell you. “Sam. What did he do?” You ask again.

“Demon deal. He’s got a year. Less than now,” he tells you. You stare dead ahead, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

Of course he made a deal. You’d known deep down he’d done something but hearing the words seemed to take your breath away. Less than a year and he’d be dragged to Hell. Less than a year and the man you – your best – Dean would be gone forever. You tried to picture your world without Dean. Sure the last couple of years you hadn’t had him around, but you’d always known he was alive. You knew that if you decided to, you could find him. This would be completely different.

“What happened in Reno?” Sam asks suddenly, pulling you from your thoughts. You look over at him quickly then shake your head, looking at the road again. “Dean, doesn’t even talk about you anymore. I actually thought you were dead until Bobby mentioned you once.”

“It’s a long story,” you say quietly. You pull the car into the latest victim’s driveway and look up at the house. “Can you…”

“Yea, I’ve got this. Call you when I’m done,” he says before getting out of the car. As soon as he closes the door, you throw the car into reverse and peel out of the driveway. You drive straight back to the motel. You don’t know what you’re going to say or do but you can’t just do nothing.

You kill the engine and climb out of the car. You slam the door, suddenly very angry, as you march up to your room. Fighting the key with trembling hands, you finally manage to get the door open before stepping into the room. You slam that door as well and see Dean jump, exactly where you two had left him that morning. He watches you for a moment before closing the laptop calmly and leaning back.

“A year?” You ask, voice trembling. He shrugs, nonchalant.

“Ten months now,” he says. You shake your head, staring at him. You can feel the lump in your throat rising, bringing with it the tears you didn’t want him to see.

“How could you?” You ask plainly. He shrugs again. Is all he can do shrug??

“I couldn’t do it without Sammy,” he says. “I wouldn’t.”

“And what is he supposed to do?! Did you think about that?! What is watching you get drug to Hell going to do to him?! To Bobby?! T–to me?!” You ask. He lets out a laugh as he pushes way from the table, rising to his feet.

“I think you’ll make it just fine, Sweetheart,” he says, walking over to the mini fridge. You shake your head as you watch him.

“What does that mean?!” You ask. He slams the door to the fridge closed and turns to face you, anger on his face.

“You left me, Y/N. No note. No text. No phone call. I woke up one morning and you were gone,” he says. “I thought someone or something had taken you. Then Bobby calls me, demanding to know what the hell I did to you cause you told him you never wanted to see me again. Do you know what that did to me?!”

“You asked me to marry you, Dean!! What the hell was I supposed to do?!” You ask. He stares at you, bewildered.

“Giving me an answer would have been a damn good place to start. Instead, you sleep with me then run off in the middle of the night,” he says. You shake your head and wipe at your cheeks furiously, the tears finally falling freely.

“We’re hunters. This life is too dangerous to get involved with someone, you know that. That’s why we never crossed that line, Dean. And then suddenly you’re saying that we should get married and I just – we would have regretted it,” you say, looking at him. Immediately, you regret that decision. His heart breaks across his face and he shakes his head, stepping towards you.

“There’s a lot of things I regret in my life, Y/N. But you – you’re not one of them. You never could be,” he says, his voice suddenly soft and tender. He crosses the room and takes your hands in his, gently squeezing them. You watch as he brings your hands up to his lips and kisses your knuckles lightly.

“Dean,” you say, shaking your head. You attempt to pull your hands away but he tightens his grip and pulls you closer to him. He reaches up with one hand and brushes your hair back from your cheek.

“I’ve got 10 months. You gonna make me spend them alone?” He asks, quietly. You close your eyes, his breath washing over your face.

“That’s not fair. I get 10 months with you then I’m left alone. What am I supposed to do then?” You ask, looking back up at him. He runs his thumb over your cheek gently and shrugs.

“Whatever you’ve been doing the last two years,” he tells you. He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. You reach up, taking his face in your hands. His hands find your waist and he pulls you flush against him. You slide your hands down his neck and to his chest where you grab two fistfuls of his shirt. He leans in, his nose just brushing against yours.

“I can’t,” you whisper, pushing away from him abruptly. You turn away from him, running your hands over your face. He grabs you by the elbow and spins you back around to face him.

“Stop that! Stop pretending that we meant nothing!” He snaps. You jerk your arm away from him quickly and glare up at him.

“I’m not pretending, Dean! There never was a ‘we’! We were friends! Just friends!” You yell. He stares at you, wide eyed. “I am sorry, Dean. I shouldn’t have left you the way I did. I never meant to hurt you that way.”

“And I never meant to fall in love with you but clearly, we both made mistakes,” he spats, venom in his words. You stare at him then, certain that everything you’re feeling is written on your face. Shock. Dean loves me. Joy. Dean loves me! Heartache. He said it was a mistake. You swallow hard and wipe at your eyes, trying to reign your emotions back in. You look down, staring at the toe of his boots.

“I have never had any feelings for you, Dean,” you tell him. He snorts a laugh and shakes his head. You look back up at him quickly.

“When you can look me in the face and tell me that, I might actually believe it,” he says, walking back across the room to the mini fridge again. He opens it and grabs one of the beer bottles you’d put in there when you first got to the motel. You feel the anger begin to bubble up in your chest again as you watch him smugly take a drink from the bottle.

“How dare you. You’re going to stand there and try and tell me you love me when you’re asking me to do this? To watch you die? How is that love, Dean? That’s just – that’s selfish! If you loved me, you wouldn’t ask me to stay,” you snap. Dean’s face falls slightly, probably realizing you’re right, but you don’t care. You quickly make your way around the room grabbing your clothes and equipment. “I knew calling you was a mistake,” you mumble, shoving a sweater into your bag. You feel a hand on your elbow and you sigh, closing your eyes. “You and Sam can handle this, right?”

“Of course,” he says quietly. You nod and zip your bag up quickly. You throw it over your shoulder and turn, looking up a him.

“I am sorry,” you tell him. He nods and reaches up, gently placing his hand against your cheek again.

“Me too,” he says. Instinctively, you turn into his hand, squeezing your eyes closed. You place your hand over his then press a chaste kiss to his palm.

“Bye, Dean,” you whisper, stepping out of his touch. You turn for the door quickly, not wanting to risk one last glance at him. Struggling to keep it together, you leave the room and get into your car. You throw it into gear and just like that you drive off, leaving the man you loved – your best friend – Dean Winchester, in your past again.

Read Reno - Before here.

#fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #supernatural #spn #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester #sam winchester #bobby singer

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wolfjackle-creates · 3 months

Text

Ghost!Robin Arc 2 Part 2

Ghost!Robin won this week's poll as well! So have a little bit more of the fic for WIP Wednesday. *resolutely ignores the clock that informs me midnight was an hour ago so it is clearly Thursday*

Check out this week's poll if you want a say in what I post next.

Story Summary: Everything changed the evening Jason met Jazz's brother. Danny introduced him and his entire family to the ghost that is, apparently, haunting him. The ghost of the Robin he had been.

The ghost of the person everyone he's ever known wishes he still was.

All he wants is to make it go away.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.2k

-----

Jason did not sleep that night, spending his time beating up a punching bag instead. What sleep he did get was laid out on the mats in the workout room. Even that was plagued by nightmares.

So it was with The Joker’s laughs still echoing in his ears that he finally dragged himself to the kitchen to start making breakfast.

Danny was no where to be seen—probably sleeping—but the ghost was. He was staring out the window not doing anything.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” grumbled Jason.

The ghost did the head motion every Robin learned to indicate they were rolling their eyes. Can’t he signed.

Jason grunted. He…probably should have figured that one out. “Well go read a book or something and don’t bother me.”

The ghost gave him a very deliberate look before flying to one of the bookcases and reaching for a book. Only for his hand to go right through it. He glared back at Jason.

“Oh.” Jason did not feel bad for the creature. He was the interloper here. But the silence in the room was not helping anything. Not with his nightmares so close to the surface. He hooked his phone up to a portable speaker and pulled up his audiobook library. Today was the sort of day for an old favorite.

Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence…

Jason hummed in satisfaction and turned his attention to the fridge. What to make for breakfast? He resolutely ignored the ghost who’d settled in his living room.

A few hours later, Jason was finishing the homemade fruit sauce when arms wrapped around his stomach and a head rested against his back.

“Mmmm, smells good,” mumbled Jazz, her voice rough with sleep.

Jason patted her arm. “I remember you liked the strawberry topping. Figured we could have it over pancakes. Batter is in the fridge.”

“Best boyfriend ever,” she said. She rested her head against his back and Jason felt himself relax in a way he hadn’t since he’d stepped out of the dining room and saw the ghost. “You left early.”

His stomach sank. Of course she noticed. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Jason,” she said flatly, a hint of warning in her tone.

He sighed. “I just couldn’t sleep. Too many thoughts going ‘round my head.”

“Hence the Austen?”

He chuckled. “Hence the Austen.”

She yawned and pushed away from him. “I’ll go brush my teeth and get Danny up.”

“He was up pretty late himself; might need to sleep in.”

She groaned. “Of course he was up, too. Well too bad. He could’ve gone to bed earlier and I think we need to have a talk about what to do next.”

“He said something about doctor yetis and a place called the Far Frozen,” Jason said. He stirred the strawberries and lifted a spoonful to test it’s consistency. Perfect. He turned off the burner.

“Oh. And you agreed?”

Jason shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice if I want that”—he jerked a thumb at the ghost—“gone.”

“Jason…” her voice had gone soft and he winced.

“I know,” he admitted to the stove. “I know it’s gonna be more complicated than that.”

She was silent for a moment before sighing. “I love you, Jay,” was all she said before walking away. Presumably to the bathroom to get ready.

Which meant he had to start the pancakes. He pulled out the griddle, added a wad of butter, and turned on the heat.

By the time Jazz and Danny returned, Jason had made a pile of pancakes large enough to satisfy a speedster. Next to it sat the strawberry topping and a jar of syrup in case that was Danny’s preference. On an impulse, he grabbed the chocolate chips, too.

Chocolate and Austen, the perfect combination for a crappy day.

Unfortunately, breakfast passed much too quickly for his tastes and soon enough they were packing away the leftovers in the fridge.

“Jazz, you’re so lucky you found someone who could cook,” commented Danny.

Jason had to laugh. “Yeah, not one of her skills, is it?”

“Not one of either of our skills. Has she told you about what our kitchen was like growing up?”

“After your knife comment last night, I feel like she may have left some things out.” Despite everything that had happened since, he hadn’t forgotten that little tidbit. Jazz was so tight-lipped about her childhood that Jason made a point to horde every detail she let slip.

Jazz groaned. “Nope. I’m full of delicious food and happy. I do not want to have to remember the hell that was the Fenton kitchen.”

From the corner of his eye. Jason could see the ghost looking at them with interest. He glared at him; the ghost glared right back.

“That’s enough, you two,” ordered Jazz.

Jason broke eye contact and stared at the floor to mumble and insincere apology he knew wouldn’t fool Jazz.

Luckily she took pity on him and didn’t push. “Danny, Jason said something about you taking us to the Far Frozen?”

Danny nodded. “Yep! Frostbite might be able to tell us what happened and have some ideas on how to help them.”

“Well, Jason, Robin,” started Jazz and Jason had to force himself to not wince at the way she addressed them both. “When do you think you want to go?”

“Now,” said Jason immediately. “Or as soon as possible. I want to know what’s going on.”

The ghost nodded his agreement and made more of those chirping noises that Danny seemed to understand.

“Then let’s get going,” said Danny.

Jazz sighed again. “Hold it, Danny. Jason, you and I should go get changed. There’s a reason it’s called the Far Frozen.”

Jason took her advice and dug deep in his closet for the heaviest winter gear. Before too long, Jazz declared them both dressed in enough layers to satisfy her. They returned to the living room.

“Do you need us to do anything?” asked Jason.

“Nah.” Danny raised his hand and made a slashing motion with his fist. “That’s all it takes. There’s some benefits to being the Ghost King: my ring can open portals anywhere.”

Following the motion Danny had made, a tear formed in the very fabric of the universe. Though it, Jason could see a swirling sky of Lazarus green. Over his years as a vigilante, Jason had seen many strange and impossible things. But that tear unsettled him on a more visceral level than most. It reminded him of the pits, he wanted to run away. It felt like home, he wanted to run forward. Instead he stared, transfixed by the way the bit of sky—was it sky?—through the portal appeared to flow like water.

Jazz grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

Danny didn’t hesitate and flew right through, transforming as he did. The ghost followed right on his heels. Both turned to stare at him and Jazz.

“Come on,” she said. “We’ll be perfectly safe.” She walked forward and Jason followed, half a step behind.

His conflicted feelings got stronger with every step, but he kept pace with Jazz until they were through. No ground existed wherever they were, but he and Jazz were able to float in place.

Behind them, the portal disappeared. Taking with it his only hope of retreat.

-----

They've made it to the Infinite Realms! And Jason still has Feelings™️ about the ghost that's following. (Do you notice he never refers to Robin, even mentally, as anything other than "the ghost"? That's a very deliberate choice.)

The strawberry topping is a thing I make semi regularly. I will sit there and eat it with a spoon it's so good. But over pancakes? Absolutely decadent. (The recipe calls it a pie filling, but eh. I'd rather just eat it with a spoon. Or over ice cream. Or pancakes.)

#dpxdc #ghost!robin #jason todd #jazz fenton #anger management ship #i need to make pancakes one of these days #theyre yummy #danny devoured his #hes spent so little time on earth lately #that he was ecstatic to have good homemade pancakes #hed only ever had them when sleeping over at tuckers before

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lt-natrace · 1 year

Text

just saying

Description: your childhood best friend, bob, is getting really sick of the men you date

Content: being cheated on, mentions of the bird strike, mentions of alcohol, going through a man’s phone, little woman quotes, thinking no one will ever love you like you deserve, little bobby being hurt for like 3 minutes but i fix it, childhood best friends to lovers

Word Count: 2.8k

I wrote this for @jostystyles playlist writing challenge and it was supposed to be posted like 3 weeks ago but life happens sometimes. I chose the song just saying but specifically the lyric "he says he loves you but it's all an act". This also wasn't beta'd so any mistakes are mine and you should just ignore them.

“He just gives me a weird feeling, okay?” Bob said once again, earning an eye roll from you as you walked from the bathroom to your closet.

“Bob,” you started, causing him to look up at you, “I’m not having this conversation again.”

He let out a huff of annoyance and crossed his arms like he used when you’d fight as children. After two decades of being Bob’s best friend, he’s never really changed his habits or learned to let you make your own mistakes. Despite what everyone may think looking at your career paths, a wizzo for the navy and a freelance writer, he was the more reserved and anxious one in the friendship. Even as kids, he would be the one to ask if something was a good idea and as teenagers he would always scold you for making bad choices. It was one of the things that made your friendship work so well.

“Whatever,” he replied flatly, standing up from where he was sitting on your bed, “I have to meet Phoenix for lunch, be safe tonight.”

You gave him a small smile and mumbled out an “I will” as he turned to walk out your front door, leaving you alone with your thoughts. He was your best friend but he drove you insane with how critical he was of the guys you went out with. Bob has always found something wrong or suspicious with each of the guys you’ve dated; Jason made you cry too much, Ethan was too flirty, Zach was too old and so on and so forth. Maybe he ended up being right about every single one of them but Carter was different, seriously. He had a stable job at his Dad’s company, took you to nice dinners and the sex wasn’t bad. Despite all these facts, Bob didn’t like him. All it took was one dinner with him and Bob called you on the way home to tell you everything he thought was wrong. It didn’t matter, Bob wasn’t the boss of you and didn’t get to have a say in who you dated, even if it started fights between the two of you.

—-------

A few hours had passed since Bob left your apartment and the sound of loud banging on the front door pulled you from your research. You closed your laptop screen slightly and walked towards the door, slowly checking the peep hole to see who was waiting on the other side. To your surprise you were met with the sight of Bob, frantically fixing his glasses and trying to catch his breath. He jumped slightly as you opened the front door, letting out a sigh of relief as his eyes met yours.

“Oh thank goodness you haven’t left yet.” He said, pushing past you and turning to face you as he got a few steps into your apartment, “I need to tell you something, it’s really important.”

You’d seen Bob shaken up many times in your life, but this was a whole new level. His hands were shaking, his face was flushed from what you assumed was him running up the multiple flights of stairs and he was pacing back and forth. You watched him for a moment, trying to take in his energy and figure out what could possibly have gotten him so worked up. He stared at you until you motioned him to speak.

“Carter,” he started and you let out a groan of frustration, “No, I’m serious, you need to listen to me. He was at lunch with some girl, she had dark hair and-”

“Jesus Christ,” you cut him off as before verifying the time on your watch, “He was probably getting lunch with a coworker or a business partner.”

“Do you hold hands and pay for business partner’s lunches?” He pushed back as he took a few more steps and began to lean onto the counter. It wasn’t until this moment that you realized how much broader he had gotten on his most recent deployment. You walked to the other side of the island and matched his motion in a sad attempt to stand your ground against him, “He wouldn’t do that to me, he loves me.” You tried, unsure of who you were trying to convince at this point.

“Do you even hear yourself right now? That douchebag has you so wrapped around his fucking finger that you would do anything to defend him, he says he loves you but it’s all an act, he has someone behind your back!” Bob snapped back, his voice suddenly taking up the kitchen. He was never one to raise his voice, especially at a woman and his actions only made you angrier.

“You know what, I know what this is about. You’re jealous,” your voice was laced with venom as you spoke and Bob let out a small laugh, “Yeah, you’re jealous that I’ve found someone I wanna tell everything to and you haven’t. I can’t be that for you forever Bob, it’s time to grow up.”

Bob swore he’d felt his heart break when he had to watch you go to prom with the quarterback or when he couldn’t find Phoenix after their ejection. But this feeling as he watched you walk away from him was worse than heartbreak, this made his stomach turn and he had to fight back the bile rising in his throat. Before you could say anything else, Bob was storming out of your apartment and slamming the door so hard you swore the hinges came off. You and Bob had fought before but never anything like this. You wanted to run after him and tell him you didn’t mean any of it but you couldn’t. Your feet stayed planted in your kitchen, the silence somehow louder than the argument that had just taken place.

As if on cue, your phone began to ring and a picture of Carter from the last date you two had gone on flashed across the screen. For a moment, you debated ignoring it, Bob’s accusations still heavy in the back of your mind. You pushed them back as you answered the call and tried to hide the shake in your voice.

—----

It’s been nearly a month since your fight with Bob. The two of you had spoken a few times but mainly conversations in passing about your days or if the other was going out that weekend. Bob had tried to make amends a few times but you ignored every attempt, he had no right to step into your relationship and throw accusations like that with not even a grainy picture to back it up. Above all, you were upset that he put such an idea into your mind in the first place. Now you felt like you were putting Carter’s every action under a microscope and looking for a flaw in it, even if you genuinely believed he was innocent.

You cursed Bob again as you tried desperately to see if Carter had left his location turned on. To your dismay, he hadn’t. He was supposed to pick you up for dinner over an hour ago. It wasn’t the first time he was late but it was the first time he didn’t have an excuse. He had a tough job and was usually forced to stay late at the office working on whatever he did all day. It wasn’t that you didn’t care to ask, he just assured you it was complicated and difficult to understand. Usually you’d pace for a little and then clean up a bit so it looked nice when he got here, but not this time. You sat on the couch, your heels ditched as you refreshed his location again.

After a few more moments, you heard the spare key clicking the lock of your front door open and sprang to your feet as he opened the door. He was still in his work suit with a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of expensive wine in one hand and take out from your favorite restaurant in the other. You couldn’t help but be slightly disappointed at the canceled plans after the effort you had put in getting ready but you could never turn down a night in, especially after what you assumed was a hard day on his part.

“Woman, my god you look good. If I knew this was what was waiting for me I would have told them to cancel the meeting all together.” He said as you made your way over to him and reached up to kiss his cheek, “Let me grab a quick shower and we can eat, feel free to open that bottle up.”

Usually this action would have warmed your heart but you can’t help but hear Bob’s voice repeating over and over in your mind. You’ve never been the jealous type, if someone wanted to go out and ruin what you had they could go ahead and do it, their loss. However, the sight of his phone sitting on the counter, lost under the flowers caused something to change in your mind. It’s an invasion of privacy absolutely, but what if it just unlocked when you moved it?

A text lighting up his screen pulled you from your thoughts. A picture from someone named Brett flashed across the screen. Against what you were raised to believe was right or wrong, you unlocked it. The picture filled the screen and you saw a t-shirt that you had bought him on someone who was definitely not Brett. She had dark brown hair that fell to one side and the hem was pulled up slightly to reveal black lace. You listened for a second to see if the water was still running before scrolling through more messages. Most of them were plans to meet up at some point but one in particular caught your eye. It was from almost a month ago and he was reassuring her that Bob hadn’t noticed they were at the restaurant. Your stomach turned and you held back a dry heave as you grabbed your phone to take pictures of the messages.

You pushed back your tears as you heard the water turn off and quickly put the phone back to where it was, preparing yourself to watch his every move as you poured a heavy glass of wine. It only took him a moment to appear back in the kitchen, his suit traded for a pair of sweats and you made your way to him, holding your arms out for a hug. He put his arms around you and you could feel his gaze behind you on the counter, frantic eyes hoping to see his phone in the same spot.

“Oh honey, some guy named Brett texted you while you were upstairs.” You said as you pulled away.

He saw him tense for a moment before quickly relaxing in an attempt to not raise suspicions. He made his way towards the cupboard to grab a glass and you continued, “he said he found one of your shirts, I think it was the one I got you from that concert a few months ago.”

The glass slipped from his hands and he turned around quickly, “It’s not what you think.”

You stared blankly at him as you attempted to control your breathing and stay calm. He really thought you were stupid and would believe him.

“Not what I think?” you questioned, your voice cracking at the end, “What it looks like is while I’ve put my dreams on hold to be your housewife in training, you’ve been going out and fucking an intern while I wait at home, hoping you’ll be home before dinner gets cold.”

He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. You spoke up again before he got a chance to reply, “Get out”

His face twisted in confusion, assuming he misheard you, “What did you say?”

“I’m telling you to get out, I want my spare key on the counter now and I’ll leave your stuff at your house later.” You replied, shocked at how much you were able to hide the shakiness of your voice. In the nearly year of dating, you had never talked back to him and the shock on his face told you that no one ever had.

It didn’t take long for the anger and shock to fade into embarrassment. In fact by the time your feet felt the cool bathroom tile, a few tears had begun to fall. The sight of the makeup and outfit you spent too much time on in an attempt to impress Carter only made them fall harder. They weren’t out of sadness for the situation but instead for how you treated Bob when he tried to warn you. You stared at your phone for a moment, debating if it was too late to call him. You decided to give it a try anyways and the sight of Bob’s contact photo caused your heart to break even further as the fear that you might have ruined everything hit you. It was an old photo from college that you took as he subtly flipped you off and you wondered if the two of you could ever go back to how it was then.

He picked up on the second ring and the sound of his slight drawl caused a small smile to appear on your face, “Hello?”

You sniffled deeply and heard rustling coming through the speaker, “Are you okay?”

Before you could reply, you heard Bob’s front door slamming and his shoes hitting the pavement quickly. The call was disconnected as he got into his truck and you were left in silence with your thoughts again. You debated changing but couldn’t convince your body to get up and face yourself in the mirror.

The sound of your front door being opened a few minutes later caused you to lift your head from the bathroom floor, “Carter, I told you-” you started before seeing who had opened the door, “Bob? You came.”

“You called.” He replied, kneeling down next to you and pushing your hair off of your face. You couldn’t imagine how you must have looked, mascara beginning to smear under your eyes, your hair getting caught on your dampened cheeks. Despite this, Bob’s face didn’t falter, he only used his hands to push your hair off your face and his thumbs to wipe your cheeks.

“You were right,” you started as you sat up slightly, your eyes unable to meet his, “I feel so stupid.”

Bob’s body tensed, his jaw clenching as he wrapped his arms around you. This isn’t the first break up Bob had held you through and at this point, it won’t be the last. Despite all the times your exes had tried to get Bob out of your life, he has always been there to pick up the pieces they left you in.

“I’m scared no one will ever love me,” you whispered so quietly, if it wasn’t for your head against Bob’s neck he probably wouldn’t have heard you.

You felt Bob’s breath hitch at your admission and another wave of embarrassment washed over you. It was a thought that circled your mind but it was usually late into the night after Carter had turned his back to you and he thought you couldn’t hear him texting on his phone. Bob didn’t say anything for a few minutes and the pit in your stomach only grew. Eventually he spoke, his voice nearly as quiet as yours.

“I have loved you ever since I have known you”

His words hung in the air for what felt like an eternity. His once calm heartbeat was now pounding against yours as the two of you stayed holding each other on the cold tile. The embarrassment and anger from earlier faded to anxious butterflies as you sat up straight to look into his eyes. Half of you expected to wake up and be laying next to Carter, all of this having been a dream. But there he was, the man you have loved since you were a teenager, admitting he felt the same in his spiderman pajama pants.

Bob cut you off as you opened your mouth, “I’ve waited far too long to tell you and I know this is horrible timing and if you don’t feel the same that’s fine but I have to tell you before I lose you to someone-”

“Shut up,” you mumbled before closing the small gap between the two of you. The kiss was light and slow, unlike any other man you’d ever been with. There was no rush to go to work or get into bed, just this moment and you were determined to make it last.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a while, both trying to absorb the events from the night. Eventually Bob helped you up from the ground, wiped the smeared makeup off and helped you into bed. Not the first time he had done so but the first time it was followed by him crawling in next to you and holding you close.

#my writing #bob #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #robert bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x reader #top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun fic #this is literally the third rewrite of this fic #i hated everything i did #also the ending is rushed so what #top gun maverick

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unseededtoast · 2 months

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Turtle Doves | Joel Miller

Part Seven

Chapter Directory

Series Summary: In which two broken souls connect so deeply, that if one should perish, the other would surely die of a broken heart. (slow burn, timeline changes. After TLOU1, before TLOU2, assumed knowledge of infected, uses elements from both show and game)

Series Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, and sexual content.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted!

"When they return, I'll be waiting for them."

The eerie silence of the night amplifies every little noise. Joel managed to fall asleep about an hour ago, and each time he moves or readjusts, fear strikes me. For some reason, my mind is convinced that more infected are in here, when I know they're not. If they were, they would have made themselves known by now.

Looking back out of the window, I readjust the way I'm sitting because my legs have gone numb. My eyes burn from forcing myself to stay awake, but each time I close my eyes I'm haunted by images of the dead children. I tap my fingertips on the floor as I keep close eye on the horizon, looking for anything to signify life. My chest rises and falls dramatically as I sigh in frustration and disappointment.

Standing from the ground, I pace around the small corner I've confined myself to for Joel's comfort. I knew that he'd never let himself be lulled to sleep if I stayed close, he seems to be well guarded and generally untrusting. So I was surprised when I glanced over and saw his eyes closed and head leaned against the wall a few hours ago. Only the muffled sound of my boots hitting the floor can be heard, and I'm sure it's not loud enough to wake him.

My mind begins working through different scenarios once more. Like what is my next move if the killers don't start a fire tonight? How am I going to determine which way to go? I can't just guess at it, that would be a massive waste of time and would put me in unnecessary danger. My eyes drift back to the large windows on the wall, wishing and hoping that I'd finally see something. Each time I look and see nothing, a small part of my strong resolve dissolves.

Yawning, I find my fingers fiddling with my necklace, trying to keep myself inspired to stay here and see this through instead of feeding into my disappointment and going back to the QZ.

"Why don't we trade off?" Joel's voice startles me. My body jumps involuntarily at the unexpected sound and I look over to him, the moonlight illuminating half of his face. Once my heartbeat has settled to a semi-regular pace, I shake my head,

"No that's okay. You get more sleep, I'll be just fine." My voice is rough from staying silent for so long. Joel looks out the window.

"You haven't slept all night. You really think you can keep goin' like this?" His voice is deep and quiet, his dark eyes meet mine through the shadows. A part of me knows he's right, I can't keep functioning at my fullest capacity with limited sleep.

"I'm gonna have to." I say, my words betraying what I know is right. For some reason, I know I would feel bad if I took him up on his offer. This isn't his fight, he shouldn't have to stay awake for my sake. He shakes his head,

"You say that 'til you're face to face with death because your judgment is impaired and you make a simple mistake." It almost sounds like he's speaking from experience. I walk closer to him so that our voices can stay quiet, just in case there is something lurking around in here that we didn't see.

"But that won't be on you. And besides, this was my idea, I can't pass off my responsibility to you. You'll need the rest for your trip." I say, tucking my necklace back underneath my shirt. He stares at me for a long while, like he's trying to figure me out.

"Who are you after?" He asks. I shrug my shoulders,

"I don't know. Well, you heard what I said back at James' place, three kids were killed. They were all assaulted and mutilated. One of them died in my arms. And I had even checked that area not fifteen minutes earlier." My voice trails off as I remember the poor girl's last breaths and her blood smearing on my arms as she grasped at them for help. My gaze finds its way down to the ground and I blink away the tears.

"Who were those kids to you?" He asks, his voice sounding softer than it was a few minutes ago. I pick my eyes back up and stare straight ahead out at the city.

"I didn't know them. But nobody deserves that end, especially not kids." I say and turn my head to look at him. He just nods.

"Sleep. I'll look for them." He says and stands from his position on the ground. I shake my head and cross my arms, prepared to stand my ground on this one. I'm not sure why I'm so concerned with this stranger's wellbeing, but I can't find it in myself to be selfish and accept his offer.

"No it's oka-"

"No. Sleep. You'll need the energy." He doesn't let me finish my sentence before he turns his back on me and goes to look out the window.

I take his spot up against the wall, and lean my head back. If he's so insistent on it, then I guess I shouldn't fight it. He knows his capabilities and it's not my job to take care of him. My eyes close and the silence welcomes me to sleep quickly, maybe I needed this more than I thought.

"Hey." A shove on my shoulder wakes me and my eyes fly open. Quickly, I look around, not recognizing my surroundings. I find Joel's face above me, he's standing right beside me and must have nudged my shoulder with his leg.

"What?" I ask, suddenly alert and aware of where I am. I stand from my spot and follow him over to the window, where he presses a finger to the glass, pointing off in the distance. I follow his finger and see what I've been looking for all night. A plume of black smoke is rising to the sky.

My jaw sets tight as I watch the smoke dissipate in the air. The rising sun is visible on the horizon, I must have been out for a few hours. My arms cross in front of my chest and I make note of where it's coming from, and what streets I need to take to get there. If I leave now, there's a good chance I'll be able to reach them before they abandon their camp.

Turning away from Joel, I grab my backpack that I had put in my corner last night. I shrug it over my shoulders and tighten the straps so that the weight is evenly distributed. My boots feel like they might be getting a touch loose, so I bend down and tighten the laces. Once I'm sure I'm ready to leave, I take a centering breath and go over to Joel and extend a hand.

"Pleasure doing business with you." I say with a small smile, appreciating his willingness to stay with me. He looks down at my hand and back out the window.

"The smoke was to the west, the way I'm headed back home." Is all he says and I awkwardly drop my hand back down to my side. My eyebrows scrunch together, not entirely understanding what he's implying.

"You could go around, might add a mile or two to your trip though." I say, glancing back at the smoke plume. Joel takes a moment to look back out at the smoke before he nods his head and holds his hand out. I take it and give him the firmest handshake I can.

The two of us turn and make our way back down to the street, the sun quickly rising in the sky. If I can pull this off well, I might even be back home before sundown. Off in the distance, I can still see the smoke. Joel and I turn to one another before we part our ways.

"Stay safe out there." I say with a small smile, hoping that his trip is uninterrupted and goes well for him. He's probably got a family waiting for him, and they deserve to have him back. He gives me a curt nod,

"Good luck." Is all he says before we embark on our separate journeys.

I begin walking towards the smoke and try to get into a fighter's mindset. It's not only the people I have to worry about out here on the streets. I push every other thought out of my mind and try to get back into the headspace I had years ago when I had to fight the infected every day on patrols. They're quick and they're strong. So, I have to be quicker and smarter if I want to live. The same goes for dealing with the killers.

My stomach twists the closer I get to the smoke. I don't like that I'm essentially going in blind, who knows how many there are. It would be in my best interest to try and pull this off stealthily. If I can find some sort of vantage point before I get too close to scope out the camp that would be best. It would be really nice if I had a rifle with me, then I could find somewhere up high to camp out and take them out like that. But unfortunately, rifles are very difficult to find nowadays, even more so now that the arms trade has slowed in Boston.

I keep moving forward until I find myself close enough to the smoke where I can smell it. Taking a look around, I find an old store off to the right where I should be able to get a good angle on their camp. Swiftly and quietly, I make my way to the store with no interruptions and carefully step through the broken glass door. I'm careful to keep my footsteps level and close to the ground, so that the glass shards don't make too much noise.

The store looks like it had been ransacked years ago, and is now a mess of tipped shelves and useless products. As I make my way to the back of the store, I look at the discarded items, making sure there's nothing of use that I can grab. But it looks like all that remains are empty boxes and various electronics. Nothing that I can immediately use to my advantage. The back of the store houses the roof access point and I climb the ladder, pushing the entrance open with a small squeak.

Sunlight blinds me as I step out onto the roof and I quickly crouch down so that any wandering eyes won't be able to spot me. From my vantage point, I see a small camp. There's one tent set up and a smoldering fire in the center, billowing white smoke now that it has been put out. Squinting my eyes, I see one person standing around. But nobody else.

My blood runs cold, that has to be the killer. Or at least one of them. Maybe the other one is off patrolling the area or something. If I can go take that one out, then the other should be no problem. However, it all seems too simple, too easy. Something just doesn't feel right to me. But, maybe I'm just overthinking this and it really is going to be this simple.

I wait for a few more minutes before I leave the rooftop, just to be sure nobody else is going to show up. I don't hear anyone in the distance, so I have to guess that the coast is clear, or at least will be clear enough for me to get down there and take down the person I saw.

I stay crouched as I make my way to the camp, grabbing the curved blade out of my belt and holding it tightly in my hand. All of my focus is on staying quiet and making smart moves. My mouth goes dry as I approach the edge of the camp. Hiding behind a building, I peek out to make sure nobody else somehow showed up.

The same person is standing by their tent with their back facing me. It strikes me as odd, but maybe they got their hands on some pills and are too spaced out to know what's going on. Before I leave my cover behind the building, I close my eyes and say a silent prayer with shaky breaths.

My eyes open and I'm focused on one thing only. To kill the man that stands a few feet from me. I turn the corner and take calculated steps, avoiding debris on the ground. My breath is silent, but my heartbeat sounds incredibly loud. The man isn't turning around, he's standing oddly still and it sends a familiar panic through my body.

I freeze in my tracks as my boot steps on a rogue twig, probably meant to fuel the fire but never got used. Within the blink of an eye, the man turns around and it doesn't take me long to register that he's not alive, well, not humanly. The man's reanimated body screams out and runs toward me, hands outreached to grab me.

I dodge his swing and plunge my knife towards his head. The recently-turned man is fast, and my knife only catches a few inches of his throat. I don't have enough time to react to the missed slash before I'm tackled to the ground, the man's teeth inch closer and closer to my neck as I try to fight him off.

My panic somehow makes me more focused, and old maneuvers feel like muscle memory. I bring my knee up and hit the man, throwing off the equilibrium so I can get the upper hand. As he's thrown off balance, I use the momentum from my kick to bring my body above his, my hips straddling his torso. Without thinking, I raise my knife and bring it down into the man's head. His body goes limp and twitches as he dies once again.

Blood splatters my hands and forearms as I pull the knife from the man's skull. I use the man's green shirt to clean my blade and then I stand from the ground, looking down at the corpse. He looks recently turned, maybe a few hours old at this point. Turning around, I look for any more runners that may have been tipped off to the struggle, but find nothing except empty streets and silence.

Taking advantage of an empty camp, I start rummaging around for anything they left behind. I check the man's pockets first, finding nothing but an old cigarette. Next, I search the tent and find an old map shoved underneath the sleeping bag. Unfolding the map, I see several marks on it.

The Boston QZ is circled, and I see a few other cities with the same circle. Other places are marked with the Firefly symbol. Sprinkled throughout the country there are some areas marked with stars. One location is marked with a large 'T'. There's no indication of what these symbols mean, but I can deduce some things from common sense. I can only guess that the circles represent QZ areas and the Firefly symbol is where known Firefly outposts are; that much is fairly obvious. The T might represent where these people came from, but it's all the way out in Nebraska. As for the stars, I don't have the faintest idea.

I fold the map up and put it in my bag to study later once I'm not out in the open. The rest of the tent holds nothing of value to me and so I move out and check the fire. There are scraps of paper in there mixed with twigs. Reaching in, I grab the largest scraps I can find, and see that there's only a few legible words left on each. The one scrap says "eliminate" and the other says "immune".

Moving on and not dwelling on what those words might mean, I tear apart the rest of the camp to look for anything useful. Beside the fire there's a second sleeping bag and I reach my hand down in it, pulling out another piece of paper. These people love writing notes to one another it seems.

The words on the paper are a lot more useful than the scraps I found in the fire. I read it quickly and read it a second time, not believing what I'm seeing. The note is almost like an instruction guide. It tells whoever was here what their mission was. It looks like their mission was to hit all the QZ's in the northeastern part of the United States and kill children between the ages of thirteen and seventeen indiscriminately. It doesn't say why, but on the bottom of the paper the Firefly logo is drawn.

I put the paper in my bag along with the scraps and map. What do the Fireflies have to do with this? Going back to the man's body, I look for the telltale sign of the Fireflies, but see no pendant around the man's neck. But what I do find is the letter 'T' carved into the skin of his chest.

Making sure there's nothing else to find in the camp, I move on so that if someone does come by I'm not caught off guard. I return to the store rooftop to monitor the camp some more. If someone does come back, they'll need to be killed for their involvement as well. Nobody is going to be spared from this group if I can help it.

The sunlight begins fading, and it's becoming abundantly clear to me that nobody is coming back to this camp. Infected probably came by and they scrambled, leaving their friend to his undead fate.

Back on the move, I decide to go west. I know there's more of these people out here and if I'm right about the map, they might be going back to where they came from in Nebraska. And even if they aren't going there now, they will eventually. And when they return, I'll be waiting for them.

#joel miller #joel #joel tlou #joel miller tlou #joel miller x oc #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller the last of us #the last of us #tlou #pedro pascal

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stevenbasic · 9 months

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Growing into the Job, Post 336: A Saturday at Melissa's, p11 (9PM, Randi)

We were kinda sorta still watching the movie, another superhero thing that was in the theaters a couple years or so ago. Sushi had all been cleaned up, and we’d let him start to recover, dialing back on our, uh, whatever they called these things - pheromones. Missy was reclined, he was cuddled up into her and had been put back into some loose clothes after he’d complained a bit. Most of us were still in swimsuits, though I’d put a little tube top on over mine after our last spurt nearly burst me out of my bikini. Fuck, my tits were getting huge. We’d all grown.

“Hey, has anyone heard from Marisela?” I asked, to no one in particular, stretching my jaw, “She was supposed to be here.”

I didn’t really get a response. I’d been here only a few hours but he’d came like a bunch of times today already. We were all just sort of lazily recovering, enjoying the new size and energy. Some of us handled it differently than others, and though nobody really talked about it too much some of us were beginning to change in different ways. I stretched out my jaw again, which tended to feel a little sore afterwards, and considered Marisela once more. “Should someone call her?”

“I already tried. Nothing,” Josie replied, casually rubbing J's bare foot. I thought I saw the ends of her long brown hair twitching. She’d gone back to watching Black Widow shrink Ant Man down for like the third time, Amelia was checking her nails..

Hm. Well, fuck it. If no one else cares I don’t either. These were odd chicks, for sure, this little friend group of ours. That I’d become the responsible one was a laugh, and I tried not to get too concerned about the weird shit that was going on. I figured I’d worry about whatever Marisela was doing later tonight. Maybe tomorrow.

Scarlett was holding the guy in her hand and scowling down at him while he tried to joke his way out of something stupid he’d just done. I gererally thought superhero movies were fucking stupid but had to admit the effects in this one were pretty amazing. It was one of the first ones, along with the first She-Hulk movie, that really caught people’s attention, big girls and all that.

“Haha I dunno..!” Missy laughed back, hugging his head back into her boobs, “Maybe! Would you like that, sweetie..?”

We all laughed as a few girls turned to watch him blush and stammer something we could barely hear. Missy, for her part, took it upon herself to gather him in a little closer, bundling him in the thin blanket he’d been given. I didn't even have to look. One of her hands was definitely under that blanket.

I’m sure I don’t have to spell it out for you people, but for all her quirks, we all adored Missy. Josie, Katie, Amelia and I have known her a long time, Shanette even longer. She’s a special friend to have. It’s been a trip, watching what’s happening to her in the middle of all the crazy shit that’s going down in the world and seeing how she’s drawn this hive of girls all around her. This job had been haha really good for her, to say the least, and it had given us all the opportunity to not only make bank, but to become more than what we were before. Some of us were worker bees, some were becoming more like warriors or soldiers, but everyone had their part. I like to think the boss girls were something even more special still. But Melissa, again for all her oddities, was definitely our queen bee…and she seemed blithely happy with this new little boyfriend of hers. It’s good, she deserves to be happy, especially with what her life story has been. And I have to admit he was pretty cute, so vulni and getting more so everyday. It made my mouth water, thinking of it, and my jaw flex remembering the couple times I had him in the car and in his apartment a few months back. Yummy...

The guy was a hard-triggered mess unable to think with anything besides what was between his legs. Most of the time that didn't seem weird anymore. It certainly didn’t bother Melissa. In fact, I think she sorta loved it. She would've had trouble seeing anything odd or strange about it. Her view of men was certainly different than most people’s, with the way she was raised. That she even seemed to consider this guy as human, let alone someone to care about, was a big step for her. She’d had him tamed through his libido, which was sort of her go-to automatic thing and not a surprise seeing as how she’d treated boys before, but she honestly seemed to love him.

Jesus Christ I sound like such an adult. The important thing was that she had him by the dick and that was that. Her new thing was that she wanted us all in on the deal. Well, okay, we could become his protectors, his guardian angels or whatever. It certainly felt good, this new kind of energy we were all getting since yesterday. I could feel it in my teeth and jaw.

Watching Black Widow zipping up her top, hiding away and trapping Ant Man in her bra and then having to fight off some robots got Melissa thinking. She and the rest of us sort of chatted about it, and it was obviously making him kinda nervous. I sensed it, and she certainly did too. She spoke up, finally, and sat him up a bit on her lap. It was weird, kinda. How her voice seemed to make the movie go quiet as all the lasers and punching noises faded into the background. We were all - all like, I dunno, dozen of us - turned to her. Attentive.

”Jay, I want you to tell them what we talked about last night,” she said. Melissa was half-reclined on the couch, her long legs stretched out and taking up a good number of seats. Shanette sat alongside her on the other wing of the sectional.

He was turned on her lap a little awkwardly at the waist, so he could look back down at her. He nodded his head, like he knew exactly what she was talking about, what she wanted him to tell the crowd of us. “Melissa, uh…because of what’s going on with my, uh…health, thinks I need some…protecting.”

As the words left him I watched Shanette whispering in Missy’s ear. As she pulled back, Melissa shook her head in the negative and spoke up again. “No,” she said to him, “That doesn’t sound right. Try again, sweetie.”

I saw his reaction - he was a little taken aback. But he paused, and rather than argue, he thought for a moment and reworded what he’d said. ”She believes it’d be in my best interest if you all helped her-“

Shanette was whispering in her ear again, and again Melissa stopped him. ”Uh uh uh,” She said, herself stopping to think now, “I know what’s wrong. Try saying it like this ‘I’m starting to have a hard time, and I need all your help. I need you all to become more protective of me.’” Melissa looked at him with those big, golden-green eyes of hers and I could see the gears turning between them. “Try that, honey,” she instructed, already expectant.

You could tell he felt awkward, all those female eyes on him, the center of attention. But, he was able to repeat her word for word: “I’m starting to have a hard time, and I need all your help. I need you all to become more protective of me.”

When we all gave several half-claps and ‘good jobs’, you could see his face growing redder. He felt happy and self-conscious at the same time, surrounded by a bevy of bosomy bikini girls praising him like he was a shy schoolboy.

“Much better,” Melissa lauded, petting his shoulder and gracing him with that big dimpled smile of hers.

”Melissa, th-that was embarrassing,” he said, plainly, making us all purr in delight. The light of the TV screen silhouetted the shapely figures of Aubrey, Katie and the B-girls from behind, covering J with their shadow.

The room erupted with an “Awwwww..!” as I watched his vulni little eyes settle on his reflection in the glass pool doors. The TV gave off just enough light for him to see his shrunken little self - and I swear he was smaller now than he was this afternoon - surrounded by his big beautiful protectors on every side. He was seated in the middle, a little man on his girlfriend's lap, right where he belonged.

”Don´t think of it that way, sweetie,” Shanette giggled, “think of it as a lesson…”

“...and you just needed some help with it,” Josie chimed.

“But I´m sure that, from now on, you will pay attention to what every woman says, right?” Melissa finished. She was sitting up straighter, now, and had pulled him slowly closer to her. I could see her eyes light up as he had moved closer to her right breast again. This whole exchange was so, like, enlightening. She obviously didn’t want him to feel as if he had no say in the matter. She wanted him to think that he had at least some power in this relationship of theirs, but she also needed him to know what’s what.

“We’re all excited to help you,” Lakshmi spoke, turning ever so slightly towards him on the couch, that big rear end of hers pivoting and causing something - springs in the sofa? - to groan.

“We want to keep you safe,” said Aubrey.

Melissa continued. ”Does that make you happy?” she asked, “Are you happy you have us, you have me to protect you?”

His voice cracked, adorably. ”s-SU-ure?” he answered, “Yes?” That caused the girls to titter and giggle excitedly, though I could tell he couldn’t make out what they were saying even as they were all - me included - drawing in closer to him. The whole place already looked like a big slumber party from some weird-ass porno.

”So tell me… why?” Melissa pressed. Their gazes were locked, intent on one another.

”Uhhh…” he began, searching for the right answer, “if someone tries to h-hurt me, you’d stop them?”

Melissa shook her head while her words came quickly. “Oh no no no,” she said, “If someone were to try to hurt you I wouldn’t just stop them. I’d absolutely murder them.”

When his smile changed we all felt the electricity. Her own excitement surged and we all began to warm slightly. He was picturing it, we could see, he was imagining what someone with the size and strength of Melissa could do to another human being, and it turned him on. Missy shivered, and needed to squirm her legs below him.

“We all would,” someone else said. I think it was Amelia, at first, but then the others joined in in chorus.

“Yes, cutie…”

“You have us…”

“Your girl army…”

All our voices were echoing off the high ceilings, sounding louder and louder. I don’t know if the others were noticing it but I was watching him flinch.

“Your big pretty bodyguards…”

“We’d fucking kill them.”

Girls were laughing, and onscreen Black Widow was again arguing with Ant Man, who was complaining from deep inside her cleavage. The robots were crumpled and smoldering, beaten, but she still hadn’t unzipped.

Melissa continued to smile, satisfied with the enthusiasm of her girls. ”What else?” she asked him, “What else are you happy about?” The smell of our perfumes, the chlorine in our wet hair, and the lingering tang of wasabi filled the room as we waited for him to answer.

”Uhhhh….” he began, struggling again under the attention of a dozen jigglebunnies. He knew there was a right answer, somewhere.

Josie spoke up to help. ”How about this, Dr. J…say this:” she began, “‘Now I don’t only have one girlfriend, I’ve got thirty…”

Lots of giggles.

”Th-thirty?” he stammered, looking over at Josie.

”Haha yes!” Missy laughed, “Thirty girlfriends! You lucky little guy!”

“So lucky!”

“And soon we’re going to hire more,” Missy added.

“More girlfriends??” someone sang, “OOOOoooo YES!”

“Okay, Fifty!” Josie called.

“Sixty!” offered someone else.

“And the more of us there are..?” said Brittni.

“...the stronger we get?” finished Bobbi.

“A hundred!” called the redheaded Julia, who’d arrived an hour or so ago. She and a couple others were actually standing on the second-floor balcony above us, outside the bedrooms, watching from up there.

“A thousand!!” laughed Stephanie after her, also from the balcony. When’d she get here? I think there were three of our witchy friends up there, too.

Anyway, I felt it myself, for sure - this group of women swelling in strength, excited and energized. We were a unit, a hive, a family - and we were growing. So weird; three months ago you’d have never been able to convince me I’d be hanging out with some of these people. But now, look at all of us. Each one of us that joined the group just makes us bigger and better, makes her bigger and better. Is that what’s making Melissa so strong? I thought, The more of us there are, the more powerful she becomes? I’d seen her, in the parking lot just yesterday, casually pushing one of the construction guy’s pickup trucks out of the way. He’d parked it blocking in her beemer, and she moved the thing like it was nothing.

“A million!”

Does she even realize it?

There was the patter of strong footsteps as several more girls came in from the kitchen, bare feet and high heels, both. Silvia, Nadia and Kori were here now, and had been swimming and looking for wine in the fridge. Bessie had also arrived, still in her BOOMfood uniform and pumps. Among everyone, the growing, giddy crowd, Missy seemed to draw all light and attention to herself. Look at her, I remember thinking, seeing her holding him so small on her lap, I fucking love her.

“A million girlfriends, Jay, how does that sound?” Missy laughed, “Could you handle all those kisses?”

The girls loved that, and we all smushed in closer. The movie still played, and with the doors out to the pool now left open you could hear the sound of the hot tub from outside the room. The floor was damp in places and there were warmly wet towels everywhere, left by the few who had not fully dried their hair. Some of us - oh yeah, me haha - had their towel around their waist.

“We need you, sweetie, to start getting used to having as much physical contact with the girls as possible,” Missy continued, as the pile of girls swarmed in closer still, some crawling onto the couch, across the ground, gathering towards him with the sofa pillows they had brought to sit on the floor, “It’ll help you bond.”

“Yes, bonding. Lots of bonding,” Shanette cooed, pressing her big breasts together in her overmatched blue bikini, causing his eyes to goggle.

“I’m going to need my good morning hug every morning,” Josie offered, pushing a pillow up alongside him, between him and the back of the couch.

“Me too, and a good morning kiss,” said Katie, also adding a pillow to support him and leaning in to smooch him on the lips.

“Bonding…” Shanette cooed again.

“Everyone will need their good morning hug, and their good morning kiss when they come into the office, okay Jay?” Missy charged, watching his eyes follow Katie’s chest up and then rivet to her brilliant smile as she pushed back her thick blond hair.

“Yes lots of physical contact,” I said, moving in myself towards him seeing how hard he obviously was, with a tent pulling the thin blanket up off his hips, “Let’s try it out…”

At that I scootched in for my own kiss, my mouth opening wide - though not nearly as wide as haha I could open it - to take his own. The girls were building pillows around him, attempting to make him even more comfortable as I could taste Katie’s cherry chapstick on his lips. I added my own lipstick to his face, my mauveness, smearing it on him. How do you like that flavor, boy? I then heard him grunt, feeling the surprise when he realized the size of my mouth. I chuckled thinking about how he’d react if he realized I could probably swallow his whole fucking head if I wanted. I grabbed his cock through the throw blanket, and we all heard him groan, everyone giggling as his body tensed into spasm.

“Who’s the best kisser, Dr. J?” I asked, giving him another quick peck, this time right between the eyes. Then I licked him up his face, chin-to-nose-to-forehead. “Me?”

“No no no you have to try us all!” Josie squealed, suddenly leaning in aside me to plant her own lips on his. His eyes had closed, so he couldn’t see how her hair, in the strange way it had started to do over the past week, began to swirl and curl, with a movement of its own. One strand reached out towards me, one towards him, caressed his face.

I sat back and Missy, for her part, just watched and smiled as the entire crowd of us moved in for kisses. His face, I could see, was quickly coated with smears of lipstick, the sheen of glosses, pink and red and shiny. Aubrey, Lakshmi, Brittni and Bobbi. Amelia and Katarina and Shanette. Even the new girls Silvia and Kori and Bessie and the rest got in there, everyone taking their turns on his lips, settling for his cheeks and neck and shoulders, back and belly when needed. He was a-glob with lipstick, all over his body, the girls sitting back to apply more to themselves, to each other, when others slid in to take their place on him and his skin. The blanket, which had been across his hips, was gone. If he’d had on shorts or anything underneath those were gone too, and now it was cock, all cock. Huge throbbing cock again, nearly ten inches of it rising from his weak-ass skeleton. As we kissed him - I’d gone in for seconds, thirds - hands were on him, now. The other girls were cooing and clucking, groaning and texting and taking selfies and group pics with him swimming in his harem, drowning in their lipstick, trying to stay afloat as our mouths sucked him into our depths. In all his glory he was now only weakly twitching and he would have long ago collapsed and flopped over were it not for us all, for the pillows around him, and for Missy’s strength holding him up from behind. She, in fact, finally eased us all away to allow him breath, while we all writhed alongside him, buzzing and squealing. She turned him, gently, pivoting him at the hips and - his chin in hand - took him in for a kiss of her own.

If you’ve never seen a man’s brain melt, it’s quite the fucking sight.

Missy drew him into the kiss, and I could see how his jaw stretched and his eyes widened as she was pushing her huge tongue into him. She moved it around his mouth, down towards his throat, claiming her territory and then, drawing breath herself, began pulling the air from within him. His eyes began to flutter closed. She wanted to take him deeper into herself to make him closer to her. Just as I’d felt the pull, the instinct to eat him, the want to suck him right into me, I could see Melissa was struggling with the same hunger. She wanted him. She wanted all of him. She wanted to suck out all his brains along with his come and all his manhood, leaving him a dribbling pathetic husk. She didn’t want to kill him, she wanted him alive to hug and cuddle and care for. But she would take his breath away. She would control his breathing, filling him with her own oxygen and keeping him alive at her whim. Haha she wanted to do more - I could see, I could fucking see how she wanted to just be able to open her mouth wider and wider and wider and just YOMP - but she wasn’t quite that big yet. What she could do is fucking suck the life out of him if she wasn’t careful, and so she released the kiss before he began to suffer any real discomfort.

“C’mon, Daddy,” she urged, “Come for us...”

The other girls, too, cooed their encouragements. I was chiming in myself, my lips the closest to his left ear.

“Let’s go, you little shit,” I sneered into him, as my mouth all but ate up his ear, “come for us again.”

I was in his left ear, Lakshmi had moved into his right, both of us were purring and slurping and tonguing his brain. Others were between his knees, sliding lips up thighs and around his sac. Hands caressed arms, slid over chest and shoulders. Still Josie stroked him, as Melissa gazed into his failing eyes.

“Go ahead, Jay, it’s okay,” she said, giving him permission. This was her boyfriend, her new man, the love of her life, and she haha was willing to share. We were all his, and he was all ours. “Give yourself to them, Jay, I want you to…”

“Come for us,” we hissed.

“Come for us now,” I said.

My smile grew so huge around his ear when, yes, finally, we all felt him shudder and collapse, like a dying fucking beast underneath us all, this pride of lionesses. When he finally came the girls - and me, and Melissa - all sang his name and Josie pumped and pumped and pumped. We watched him wither, we watched his jaw fall open and his head bob like a marionette on his neck. Though he’d climaxed countless times today, come still rocketed from his dick in gushes and fell onto his chest, into my hair and Lakshmi’s. And then, as she still pumped, Josie sat up straighter and drew his eyes to her tits. She pulled back her shoulders, thrust her big breasts out, straining straining straining at the top of her bikini and waiting waiting waiting for - oh god, there it was, there it fucking was - the warmth, the strength, the power that swelled and there it was she knew it, we all knew it - we were all just about to-

Josie’s top burst, her bikini snapping apart. Her tits ballooned outwards, and Missy began to laugh as he moaned an ‘oh my god’ in the weakest, most pathetically male voice you could imagine. She had begun to grow, we had begun to grow, all around him, visibly. He was watching us and he was watching us fucking grow. Staring at Josie’s burgeoning tits and the swirls of her hair dancing about her shoulders, he was staring into his future and feeling his world close in all around him. “Get ready little man,” I whispered into his ear, “your girls are going to eat you alive…”

========================================

thanks in huge gobs to ResistanceIsFutile for his inspiration, contributions to atmosphere and editing on this one. I’m also using brother Beetlebomb’s render of Dr J…again.

#growing into the job

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mr-ghoulish-bones · 1 year

Text

⛧ Too loud ⛧

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

(I wrote this a while ago so I made some changes to it)

(Side note: I let my friend read this because I wanted her opinion on whether I should of posted this or not, and I shit you not she started crying good tears mind you and ngl that was all i needed. so I hope all of you cry even just a tiny bit I thrive off of your misery/j)

Sodo/dew: orange text

Reader: green text

Today just wasn’t your day, it just wasn’t going how you planned it in your head everything just seemed to go wrong and everything was just so god damn loud you couldn’t stand it. After what felt like years of having to put up with the other siblings of sin shit today, you just wanted to sleep just anything that you could use to escape the stress of today you’d take without hesitation. Walking through the empty halls of the ministry where the only sounds you could hear now were of you shoes clanking against the nice marble floor and the occasional rustling of your clothes as you walk. When you finally reached your room you open your door as quiet as possible because you were skipping the afternoon mass as you just couldn’t be bothered to attend after the terrible day you'd been having but you still didn’t want to get caught, quietly closing the door behind you practically throw on the first set of semi comfortable clothes you find, really anything you get out of your uncomfortable clothes you had been wearing.

Once you changed you made your way to your bed to lay down you proceed to bury yourself in a blanket and pillows hoping it’ll shield you from the chaos outside, you attempted to try and fall asleep but no to avail, after what feels like hours of laying in bed with your eyes shut hoping to sleep the rest of the day away, you start to hear someone talking from outside your door you can’t quite tell who it is and you can barely make out what they’re saying, but in the midst of you trying to figure what’s being said your thoughts get interrupted by your door being swung open surprised it didn’t break off the hinges and you were met with the voice of sodo announcing his entrance into your room.

“MIN KÄRLEK!!! ITS ME!!!”

(Swedish for my love)

This type of entrance wasn’t uncommon for sodo but today was just the wrong day he chose to do it, in response to the yelling and the loudness of the door almost flying off its hinges, you immediately cover your face with your blanket and cover your ears, you at this point were barely hanging on and so close to tears from the overstimulation, with Sodo noticing the reaction from you he immediately freezes in place trying to figure what was wrong after a few seconds of silence with your fire ghoul standing halfway in your room practically frozen trying to figure out what was wrong and you trying to hold back tears, he starts to approach the bed where you’re curled up in, when Sodo finally goes to speak again his voice softens and he changes the tone he’s speaking in to one not even you’ve heard before saying.

“My dear, are you alright? Did I startle you?” He says, sounding so loving yet almost scared,”sweetheart why are you hiding? I haven’t seen you all day. I've been so worried.” this time kneeling down in front of your covered face.He reaches to uncover your face, and in doing so he’s met with you with your eyes tightly shut and you covering your ears.

“Oh love…” his voice is now softer and almost sympathetic, he moves to brush some of your hair out of your face, and his hand ends up finding a place cupping your cheek.

You open your eyes only to be met with your masked ghoul. His head is tilted slightly to the side, you go to say something anything to him but there are no words that come out, instead you just start to cry. Your tears feel like acid on your skin you’ve been holding them in for so long, sure it’s relieving but for some reason it still hurts. Whatever it is it hurts, it hurts more than anything. You close your eyes and instinctively you go to cover your face again, in your mind you don’t want sodo to see you like this, no. you can’t have him see you like this especially now. After a few seconds the sound of your muffled crying was interrupted by a sudden loud thud of something hitting the floor.

“y/n….please don’t hide from me…please.” Sodo reaches to pull down your arms which you’re using to cover your face, in doing so you’re now met with Sodos face this time unmasked. His eyes are kind and there's still that loving look that was only for you, and there are still some long strands of his blonde hair still in his face after taking off his helmet.

“See, now neither of us are hiding anymore…”

He says, those words are sweet but still don’t make you feel any better about all of this. Hell this was the first time you’ve ever cried in front of sodo and you felt just so guilty for it no matter what he said to make you feel better. After what felt like ages you finally open your mouth.

“im sorry…..i-im so fucking sorry!…im sorry.”

That’s all that you can get out, his face doesn’t change much but you can see some form of pain or guilt behind his eyes, its starting to get harder and harder to tell, his hand reaches back to cup your cheek but this time he’s using his thumb to wipe away your tears as they fall.

“Shhhhh…it’s alright my dear there is no reason you should have to apologize, especially for something like crying.” He reassures but there’s something in his voice that makes it sound like he’s starting to choke back his own tears. “Love….please never apologize for something like this again…promise me.” You laughed a bit after he said that and him just seeing you laugh seemed to be enough for him to smile even just a tiny bit. “fine but I can’t make any serious promises.” Sodo rolled his eyes at this but still seems to be happy that you were starting to feel even just a little bit better,after wiping away a few more tears from your face, sodo pulls you in to a loving kiss and after a few moments he pulls away just to place another kiss on your forehead this time, when he pulls back both of his kisses still linger on your lips and forehead only for a few moments. Sodo looks at you with a smile this time enough for one of his fangs to show a tiny bit. “hey y/n, can you tell me what was wrong, or if there’s anything you want or need from me?” You’ll be honest you were dreading him asking you what was wrong because you felt like you’d sound stupid or like you were overreacting if you told him, so maybe you’ll hold off for now. “Hmmmm, I’ll tell you later maybe when I’ve fully calmed down, but there’s one thing I need from you, all I really need is for you to hold me again if you want to.”

Without a word Sodo immediately climbed into bed alongside you and pull you close to his chest,but still giving you room to adjust and get comfortable, when you finally got comfortable your head was close to his chest, his tail found a place wrapped around round your leg and one hand found its way to your waist and the other held the back of your head, and not long after getting comfortable Sodo started purring which made you start to drift asleep but before you could you had one last thing to tell your ghoul lover

“Thank you, thank you for being here….I love you.”

“Of course, I’ll always be here my dear, I love you too.”

That was the last thing you told him before you fell asleep peacefully in his arms, no matter how much your fire ghoul got on your nerves you knew you could never stay frustrated at him for long and you knew he’d always find a way to make it up to you.

End

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

(Authors note: HIIIIIII ALLISTER HERE!! I just wanted to say thank you for reading and here’s what happened when you woke up for those who wanted to know. when you woke up you ended up telling sodo what was wrong and he started to profusely apologize afterwards no matter how many may times you told him he was fine.)

#sodomizer ghoul #sodo ghoul #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #dewdrop x reader #sodo x reader #nameless ghoul x reader #ghost band #ghost bc #ghost band x reader

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transhuman-priestess · 4 months

Text

This one is a little different than other things I've posted before. It's short, it's not horny, it's a bit surreal. I wrote it a while ago, but I've never posted it here. This one came out of my head at a very stressful time in my life and it's largely a pastiche of what I was going through at the time. It's not literal, but you'll understand.

There's no sex (though masturbation is mentioned) in this one but there is a lot of explicit, semi-realistic gore mentioned. This is your warning.

If You Prick Me, I Shall Bleed

I was walking down the street last week when a stray bullet struck me in the right shoulder. The 5.56mm round struck the top of my right shoulder blade, shattering it into several large pieces and bouncing up and into my clavicle before exiting horizontally through my skin. Blood poured everywhere.

As I screamed in agony one of my fellow pedestrians on the corner of Chavez and Belmont looked over at me. “Uh, Ma’am,” He said, disgust evident in his voice. “Would you mind not bleeding all over me?”

I managed to regain self control and through clenched teeth and flowing tears I sputtered, “I’m sorry, my bad.” My blue uniform was now a dark purple. I grabbed several copies of the Falun Gong’s free newspaper from the dispenser a few feet away and pressed them to my gushing wound.

The light turned green and as I crossed the street a white woman in her late 40s with a “Choose Life” shirt on tapped me on my uninjured shoulder. I turned around and she said to me “You should sue, you know.”

“Who should I sue?” I asked, “It was random gunfire. Also I can’t afford a lawyer.”

“You should sue the city, it’s going to hell!” Her eyes drifted down from my face to my shirt pocket and fixed upon my trans flag pin. Her expression changed to one not unlike you might see on someone who’d just stepped barefoot in dog shit. She turned and walked away and once she got about 10 feet away I swore I heard her say “Fucking faggot.”

I made it to work, my shoulder mercifully having clotted. My boss was talking to the receptionist as I walked in. He stood up and looked me up and down before checking his watch. “You’re late.” he said, “You were supposed to be here 3 minutes ago.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, before gesturing to my shoulder. “I got shot. I’ll be fine.”

“You got shot? Christ. That sucks. I’m sorry but we’re really short-staffed today.”

“I said I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” He said, now browsing something on his phone.

“I just need to make it clear I can’t afford to send you home.”

I walked past the reception desk and through the “Employees Only” door and sat down at my cubicle. The first challenge of the day was to figure out how to use the mouse on my computer with a shattered right shoulder. I tried just moving my arm as normal but the tenuous newspaper-filled clot started bleeding again and a bit of what I’m pretty sure was my collarbone fell onto the desk. My boss picked that moment to walk by. He glanced at the bloody chunk of bone on the desk and shouted, “God dammit, Danner, your cubicle is disgusting. I’m gonna have to write you up for this.”

“But sir, I-”

“But nothing, Danner,” He said, “It is very clear in the employee handbook that all workspaces must be kept clean.”

“I got shot”

“I don’t care if you got shot, you need to be more responsible.” and with that, he walked off to go yell at Collins for something or other.

After another 10 minutes of trying in vain to make my right hand work with the mouse I used my left to pick it up and, with some difficulty, managed to change the settings to left-handed use. I found that I was mostly competent at typing one-handed, and for several hours things were almost normal, except for the occasional bit of blood-soaked bone falling out of my shoulder.

I decided to work through lunch and around 2pm I went and used the company account to buy some more toner. About 10 minutes after that, my boss came back. “Danner, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Huh?” I asked, confused

“Why did you just put in an order for 6 toner cartridges? We only needed 5.”

“Oh,” I said, slightly relieved that it wasn’t something I’d get fired over. “I meant to hit 5 but I must have hit 6 by accident. I’ve been having to type one-handed cause of the shoulder thing.”

His eyes narrowed, “You’re fired, Danner. Security will clean out your desk. Go home now before I call the cops.”

“What?” I said, alarmed, “What did I do?”

“Wasting company funds is serious business, Danner.”

“I got shot,” I protested, “and this is a tiny mistake.”

“Well you should have called off then.”

“You told me you couldn’t spare me.”

“That’s not my problem. If you weren’t capable of doing your duties you should have called off.”

“You would have fired me.”

“That’s not my problem. Get out before I tear you a new asshole.”

I walked to the door, and as I left I heard my boss say, “And the cost of cleaning your cubicle is coming out of your final paycheck.”

An hour later I made it home, having somehow managed to drive stick left-handed. I walked in the front door to see my boyfriend, Jim, sitting on the couch, masturbating.

“Oh, hi, Sara.” He said, not looking away from his computer screen, “you’re home early”

“I got fired.” I said, before breaking down and sobbing.

“Oh, hon, that fucking blows.” He’s still jerking his dick up and down like he’s shaking a can of spray paint.

I lay on the floor writhing in pain and my whole body convulsed even more with the sobs of humiliation and despair.

Finally, Jim looks up. Our eyes met, and with a sweet expression of pity in his eyes, he said, “Can you keep it down, babe? You’re killing my boner.”

#ivy michaels writing

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rocksandmirrors · 3 months

Text

this is something i wrote a couple weeks ago based on the second art of this post i've made, but i didn't feel like posting it on ao3. hope you enjoy!! the wonderful @sapphic--kiwi inspired me to write this, make sure to check out her blog as well <3 she's a very talented artist and writer

also watch out for body issues and internalized fatphobia

Matt couldn’t stand to see his reflection anymore.

He should have seen it coming, though; with all the work he had been doing for the last years, and being able to eat his fill every day, it was obvious he would gain weight. Yet, now that he stared at himself in the mirror, all he could see was the extra pounds that didn’t have to be there. He knew this was silly, but an immature part of him hoped he could have looked like these constructionist witches in the shows he watched, attractive and shaped like a V.

Grimacing, he pinched a bulge on his stomach and let out a groan. He hated looking like this, especially when he was so skinny just a couple years ago. Maybe he could skip breakfast, just for today. He wasn’t that hungry anyway.

Shaking his head to try and think about something else, Matt reached out to the cabinet above the sink until he saw Augustus’ reflection in the mirror, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. He froze as they locked eyes, and he prayed he hadn’t seen too much of him wallowing in his misery.

“Hey,” he mumbled, finally opening the cabinet to grab his hairbrush. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Nah.” Matt heard footsteps behind him, and a few seconds later, felt a pair of arms around his waist, as well Augustus’ warmth against his back, and his chin on his shoulder. “You’re up earlier than usual.”

“Eh, I just woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep. Figured I could get prepared for work, at least.”

Augustus’ hands wandered around his stomach and hips- areas of his body that he hated more than anything- and he repressed the urge to push them away. Instead, he started brushing his hair, slowly, untying all the knots one by one. He had two hours left before leaving, might as well take his time.

“Matty, are you okay?” he asked, slumber still staining his voice.

“M’yeah. Sort of.” When he met Augustus’ eyes again through the mirror, he sighed. “No, not really.”

“I know. I saw you.”

Yeah, he figured as much. His fiance had that talent for always being at the wrong place, at the wrong time. He put his hairbrush down next to the sink, still staring at their reflections.

“Of course you saw me. There’s nothing else to see about me but… this,” he added, disgust dripping in his tone.

“Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“Like what? Like I became fucking ugly? Someone here has to, because you sure as hell aren’t doing it.”

Matt was getting worked up over pretty much nothing and arguing with a brick wall; he knew that, yet couldn’t help it. Just thinking about the way his body had changed over the last years made him feel miserable and fall back into his old self-deprecating ways, aggressive towards someone who didn’t ask for it.

“You’re not ugly,” Augustus argued, leaving a peck on his jaw. “You’ve never been.”

“Augustus, you don’t need to rub me up the right way. I know I’ve changed, I mean- you’ve seen me at seventeen, look at me now! I was in much better shape back then!”

“Were you?”

“Do you really need me to make an illusion of my old self to compare?” He asked, arching an eyebrow.

Augustus shook his head, his hands still rubbing the parts of his body he hated the most. Matt just wanted this conversation to end, to go on about his day and shove that brief moment of vulnerability into a corner of his mind so he could forget about it. As much as he hated his current appearance, he never intended for his lover to listen to him vent about his body issues first thing in the morning.

“Matt, you had nothing to eat as a teen, of course you were skinnier. Hell, I’ve seen you digging through trash at school just to have lunch.”

“Yeah, but-”

“You’ve grown up. You’re doing a lot more physical work, and like it or not, you can’t keep your teen body all your life.” One of Augustus’ hands moved up to his torso. “If you really want to lose weight someday, I’ll support you, but I want you to know I also love how you look right now, because you’re just as healthy and handsome. Frankly, I’m happy to see you like this.”

Matt’s breath got stuck in his throat, and his eyes widened at these words. He knew Augustus tended to be clingier than usual whenever he lacked some sleep, but he still needed to get used to all the praise that came with it.

“I don’t really see it,” he admitted with a shrug.

“That’s okay. I don’t expect you to get over this right away.” The younger witch left another kiss, this time at the nape of his neck, and a shiver ran down his spine. “But trust me, if you could see yourself the way I see you, you’d marry yourself in a heartbeat.”

Matt could feel- and see- all the blood rushing to his face, and suddenly, the warm hands wandering on his body didn’t bother him as much- they felt loving, tender, worshiping every part of the body he still struggled to accept as it was. He leaned into Augustus, still standing behind him, and the arms around him wrapped themselves tighter.

“Are you feeling any better?” He asked.

“I… Yeah, actually. Thanks, babe.”

“No problem.” Augustus left one last peck on the shell of his ear before stepping back, and Matt immediately missed his warmth. “Since we’re both awake, I’m gonna make some coffee. Do you want some?”

“You know it.” Matt turned around to face him, offering him a tired smile. “Let me make you breakfast, yeah?”

“Don't worry, I’m not touching any pans in this kitchen,” he yawned as he left the bathroom.

Matt watched his fiance walk away, then turned back to his reflection. Half of his hair had been brushed, the bags under his eyes were a little more prominent than usual, contrasting with his crimson face, and his shirt was a little crinkled from where Augustus had been touching him. He pinched a bulge on his stomach again, poking at the fat here and there with a faint smile.

Maybe he could indulge in breakfast today.

#the owl house #gus porter #mattholomule #gustholomule #fanfic #fanfiction #toh fanfic #the owl house fanfiction

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eventinelysplayground · 6 days

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Just A Moment

This is @aquagirl1978 request for my 50 follower event. I posted her ask yesterday if you want to read it. This originally had a slightly different ending but it gave off a vibe I wasn't happy with and that didn't entirely suit Nokto's character so I changed it just a bit and the vibes much better. I hope you enjoy it and that it at least hits some of what you wanted and thank you again for the request, WC approx 1300.

The nights were always long, lonely and unbearably silent. Tonight was proving to be no different, though lately a new pleasant torture had been added to the list of why Nokto hated night.

“Mmm Nokto.”

Soft hands slid around his neck followed by warm lips pressing a light kiss to his ear.

“I want you Nokto, so so badly.”

Clear desire filled eyes looked deep into his crimson ones, filling his vision with nothing but her.

“Emma.”

Nokto reached a hand behind her head and kissed her with an insatiable hunger. They moved swiftly towards his bed, never breaking their kiss. Their hands roamed over each other's bodies making swift work of their clothes. They reached the bed and Nokto felt Emma push him down onto it, his head dropping hard against the pillow.

“Damn.”

Nokto slowly sat up in his bed and rubbed the back of his head. Unlike just a minute ago he was alone, Emma's presence there had been nothing but a sweet yet torturous dream.

“As if the nights weren't bad enough already.”

Nokto let out a sigh and flopped back down onto his bed staring up at the ceiling. He used to dream often about that fateful night, they were horrible nightmares but he adapted and learned ways to deal with them but these new dreams… They were such warm fantasies but they hurt much more than the nightmares ever had and so far nothing could rid him of them.

Nokto had tried his usual methods to chase away unwanted dreams but neither books nor the warm and flushed body of a woman could chase these away. He even tried some herbal teas and sachets with calm and soothing scents but nothing worked. He figured it must be because unlike his nightmares deep down these dreams weren't actually unwelcome.

I'm horrible, I can't keep doing things to hurt him.

Nokto sighed once again and looked toward his window. It was still a few hours before dawn but he was wide awake now and in desperate need of any distraction.

I may as well take a walk.

The palace corridors like everywhere else during the dead of night were silent. Nokto walked aimlessly down the familiar halls, the moon offering a small amount of light in the darkness. As he walked his thoughts were of his twin, the other part of himself, the part he kept on hurting. After Licht met Emma he had finally stopped wanting to die and started to actually live again.

Licht is finally happy after all this time and he deserves it more than anyone so why…why did I have to start wanting what he has?

When and why did it start were questions Nokto had asked himself more than once over the last several months. He never gave himself an honest answer though, preferring to lie to himself and every time he did so his dreams became more detailed and the blackness in his chest grew bigger.

As Nokto continued on he noticed a faint light coming from under the parlor door. Figuring it may be Jin or Clavis he decided to open it, his older brothers could be good entertainment and it would help the long night pass quicker if he had company. When Nokto opened the door it wasn't who he expected to find that was on the other side.

Emma…

Nokto stared at her in silence not believing what his eyes were seeing. Emma stood in front of one of the windows, her figure illuminated in the light of the moon as well as a dying fire, she looked mysterious and welcoming all at once and he felt his heart clench in his chest. His head told him he should leave but his heart hesitated just long enough for Emma to notice somebody else was there and turn around.

“Nokto! You startled me, are you only just getting back?”

“Unfortunately, no. The young lady I had plans with originally couldn't come out to play tonight, but since you're here maybe we could play together? You're already dressed for it.”

Emma wore a long flowy nightgown made of silk, a shawl draped around her shoulders.

“Though I would prefer you in something more revealing.”

Emma shook her head and let out a small laugh.

“Nokto be serious.”

“I'm being completely serious.”

Nokto gave Emma a sly grin as he came to stand at her side. He couldn't tell from the doorway but up close he could see the different emotions playing out across Emma's face.

She looks even more irresistible than usual.

“Are you worried about Licht?”

“A little. I know that it sounds silly, it's just a regular inspection but I'm still worried. More than anything though I just miss him.”

Nokto was spellbound as he watched Emma pull her shawl tighter around her slender shoulders.

“I thought that it would get easier with time and I wouldn't be so sad when he would have to be away but…”

“But it hasn't.”

Emma shook her head as she held back her tears.

“Licht wouldn't let himself get hurt, he'll be home soon.”

Nokto reached out and tucked some stray hair behind her ear and let his fingers trail down her neck for the briefest of moments.

“Nokto, are you up because you're worried about him too?”

“Mmmm, why don't I walk you back to your room?”

“I'd like to stay here actually.”

“Okay.”

Nokto turned to leave, he hadn't taken more than a few steps when Emma called out to him.

“Nokto?”

“What?”

“Would…would you mind staying here with me? I don't really want to be alone right now.”

Nokto's heart stung but he plastered that familiar smile on his face.

“As long as you're willing to entertain me.”

He studied Emma as she looked around the room until her eyes suddenly brightened.

“How about a book, we can read together.”

“Is that really what you want to do?”

“Nokto.”

Nokto could hear the exasperation in Emma's voice.

“Fine, on one condition.”

“What?”

“That you read to me, at least that way it seems like we're actually spending time together.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

Nokto settled on the sofa and Emma joined him after picking out a book for them. The time crept slowly by until eventually the sound of Emma's voice stopped, replaced by the faintest sounds of her steady breathing . Nokto had been falling asleep himself but it was Emma who succumbed first falling gently against his side, the feeling of her warm breath falling across his chest.

Is this it? Is this my punishment for forcing Licht into the half life he lived for so long? To want what's finally made him happy? To fall so in love with his wife that I…

Nokto wasn't consciously aware of it but he wrapped an arm tightly around Emma holding her close.

Please, all I ever wanted was for Licht to be happy again…And Emma makes Licht happy, happier than he ever was and that makes me happy…

“Just…”

Nokto dared to twist his head to look at Emma's closed eyes. Those clear, honest eyes that he had hated. Those eyes that would never look at him the way they did in his dreams. Those eyes that looked only at his twin. Those eyes so full of light and love that they had pulled Licht out of the darkness.

If I'm ever going to be honest with myself..

“Just…”

Nokto placed his chin on the top of Emma's head and closed his eyes. Her warmth flowed steadily into him and he tightened his grip around her.

Just give me this moment. Just a moment to hold you in my arms like this. To feel your warmth, how soft your skin is, the way your heart beats. To pretend for just this moment that you're mine.

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri fanfic #ikemen prince nokto #ikemen prince licht #ikepri nokto #ikepri emma #ikepri licht #nokto klein #50 followers #ikemen prince fanfiction

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olicitymckono · 1 year

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Part 2

Note: Absolutely love Charlotte

2 Years Later

Graduation was fast approaching, and Y/n had yet to tell anyone about her acceptance to the Royal College of Art. She had received the letter weeks ago but seemed to find excuses every time someone asked what her plans were after graduation. Arthur was definitely on track to become a Formula 1 driver just like his brother and was fast taking the F2 world by storm. Tonight though, racing and any conversation of the sort was not permitted. Y/n and Carla were upstairs in the Leclerc home getting ready for the last dance of their high school lives. Arthur and Charles were downstairs the latter trying to calm his brother’s nerves.

“Why do dances have to be so formal?” Arthur asked as he tugged on his tie.

“Well little brother,” Charles chuckled. “Women like to dress up and what better event than a school dance. Just enjoy it and have fun, I mean you and Clara are going to have so much fun.”

“I guess so. I just wish that y/n hadn’t decided to go to the dance with that idiot Jeremy.”

Charles suddenly uncomfortable at the mention of y/ns date. It’s not like he was jealous or anything but something about the boy didn’t sit right with him. Arthur noticed the change in his brother but said nothing. He knew Charles needed to figure himself out, if y/n didn’t end up hurt.

The doorbell rang and Charles excused himself. As soon as he opened the door, he felt that same feeling clawing at his insides. “Hi Charles.” Jeremy Martin a tall blond-haired boy stood in front of him suited up with a sunflower in his hand.

*Hello, who’s the flower for?”

“Y/n. She likes these.”

“Mhm, she tells you that?” Charles smirked slightly knowing that she hated sunflowers.

“Not exactly but I’ve seen her drawing them.”

“Well come in,” he ushered the young man in. “They should be down any minute.”

Charles led him through the foyer to join his brother but as he reached the stairs and looked up, he lost his breath. Clara and y/n were making their way down to them and he had never seen her look so beautiful. Her long brown hair flowed down her back in waves, just the slightest hint of makeup to enhance her features. She was wearing a long strapless black dress the hugged her in all the right places. Seeing her like this made him feel something he shouldn’t have towards his friend. She had a soft smile on her face, but he knew it wasn’t directed at him as she was looking at Jeremy.

“Wow you both look amazing.” Arthur was the first to react taking his girlfriend’s hand.

“Merci,” Clara kissed his cheek.

“Hi y/n. You look beautiful.” Jeremy smiled as he too took her hand.

“Guys, you should get going or you’re going to be late.” Pascale reminded them as she and Sylvie approached from behind the girls.

“You’re right.” Arthur nodded placing his hand on Clara’s back. “We’ll see you guys later.”

Y/n quickly kissed both her mother and Pascale on the cheeks goodbye before threading her arm through Jeremy’s outstretched arm. She smiled softly at Charles as she passed him.

He wanted to say something, anything but his mouth was dry. Pascale noticed but would wait till they were alone to say anything. “Shouldn’t you be going as well? Last I checked you had some function.”

Charles cleared his throat and looked at his mother. “Right,” he kissed her and Sylvie. “I’ll see you later.”

Few hours Later:

“You having fun?” Jeremy asked as they were dancing.”

“Yes, I am,” she smiled. She really was having a lot of fun and enjoyed his company. They had only been hanging out for a few weeks, but she really liked him. It didn’t hurt that for the most part she was able to move on from Charles, not completely but it was a start.

“Good. You know for a minute I thought you were going to say no to me.”

She lifted her head to look at him. “Why would I do that?”

“Charles Leclerc.”

“What does he have to do with anything?”

He gave her a pointed look, “Well he seems very protective over you.”

“He just looks out for me.”

“I’m sure.”

“What does that mean?” she asked getting a bit irritated.

He shrugged, “Nathan told me the only reason he didn’t ask you out again was because of Charles. I wanted to see it for myself.”

“See what exactly?” she asked moving away from him.

“How he would react.”

“So, you asked me out to see how Charles would react?” she crossed her arms.

Jeremy quickly tried to back track, “NO! I asked you out because I like you.”

She huffed, “Not what it sounds like.”

“Y/n,” he reached for her hand, but she moved further away. “I'm sorry.”

“It's fine. I'm kinda tired of dancing. I'm going to get a drink.” She forced a smile and made her way over to their table where some of her other friends were sitting.

“How’s things going with Jeremy?” Stacey Keliso, her redhaired friend asked.

“OK.”

“Just, ok?”

“Let's not talk about it.”

“Ok, now I need to know.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and sat down. “Why does everyone just want to get to know me to get close to Charles Leclerc?”

Stacey’s boyfriend Rafe Benedetti chuckled beside her. “He’s famous.”

“Wow how perceptive.” sarcasm dripped out Y/n voice. “You’d think I wasn’t aware.”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Just pointing out the obvious.”

“What exactly did he say?” Stacey asked shushing her man.

“He mentioned that Charles is the reason Nathan ghosted me.”

“I’m not surprised.” Rafe replied.

“What?” Y/n asked.

“Never mind.”

She shook her head, “No no. Tell me.”

“We’ll,” he sat forward. “I’ve seen the way he gets when a guy talks to you. He can get very territorial.”

Y/n closed her eyes while pinching the bridge of her nose. “I can't wait to move.”

“Move?”

She opened her eyes in shock and turned around to see Arthur standing behind her. “Did I say that out loud?” she turned back to Stacy who nodded.

“Where are you going?” Arthur asked taking a seat next to her.

“Rafe, I wanna dance?” Stacy stood up and grabbed her boyfriend’s hand.

“I thought your feet were sore,” he remarked clueless.

“They feel better,” she dragged him to his feet and give her friend a smile.

“You weren’t meant to hear that, not yet anyway.” Y/n sadly looked at her best friend.

Arthur watched her intently. “Talk.”

She took a deep breath, “I got in.”

His eyes widen, “The Royal College of Art.” She nodded causing him to breakout into a huge grin. “Y/n,” he stood up and pulled her with him hugging her tightly. “Why wouldn't you tell me? I know how much you wanted this.”

“It means I'm leaving Monaco.”

“Only for a bit. London is not that far, and we will have holidays and visits.” he looked at her pride on his face. “This is amazing.”

“Really?”

He hugged her tighter in response. “But you have to make sure to come to any races in London and definitely home races.”

She laughed, “Wouldn’t miss them for anything.”

“Good Charles is going to flip.”

“You are too!”

“What?”

“Nothing. Would it be rude if I leave early?” she asked.

“Why? Is everything okay?”

“Yep, all good, just kind of tired and it's not as fun as I had hoped.”

“You want me to come with?”

She loved that he cared so much about her, but she knew that he was having fun, there was no way she was going to spoil it for him. “Nope, you have fun. I need to go find Jeremy.”

‘Okay, call me later,” he replied sternly.

She nodded.

A couple weeks later having graduated y/n and Arthur were taking a much-needed break before heading their separate ways for the time been. After the dance she had let everyone know about college and her move to London, everyone except Charles. He had been too busy with Formula one to make it home for graduation. But this weekend the two families were going to get together at the lake house to enjoy one last weekend together. She was excited to see him.

“Hey y/n, I need to tell you something.” Arthur helped drop off her bags.

“Sure. What's up Art?”

“Charlotte is coming.”

Y/n tried hard to not physically react even though she felt her heart sink. “Oh.” Is all she said. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the girl, but she had been hoping to spend time with him before she left. She wasn’t sure how long it would be before she saw him again.

“I only find out on the way here.”

She turned to a friend and forced a smile hoping he wouldn’t notice. “It’s all good Arthur. She’s cool.”

He looked at her, eyes narrowed. “You seem ok with it.”

She shrugged turning back to her bag. “Why wouldn’t I be? They’ve been together a while.”

“Ya but....”

She rolled her eyes before shushing him with a finger to the lip. “I'm a big girl. He’s going to have a girlfriend. I accepted that it's never going to be me.”

“Wish it was,” he mumbled as he walked out the room. Charles was an idiot, but it was his life.

“It’s going to be nice to see everyone,” Charlotte smiled looking at her boyfriend.

He nodded in agreement glancing quickly back at her before turning into the driveway of the house.

“Wow! It’s beautiful.”

“It is. I love coming here. It’s like my own private getaway. I, Art and y/n used to drag our mothers here as much as possible when we were kids.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes at the mention of the other girl making sure to hide her dislike for the girl from Charles. She was jealous of y/n. Charles was her boyfriend and she didn’t like how close he was to the other girl. But if she wanted to be with him, she knew she had to play nice.

She spotted Charles’ mother and older brother at a car as the came to a stop. Hopping out the car she quickly made her way over. “Bonjour Pascale, Lorenzo.” She gave each one a hug something Pascale noticed seem forced.

“Hi Charlotte,” Lorenzo greeted. “Nice to see you again.”

“Yes, lovely to see you.” Pascale smiled lightly at the girl. Her smile only growing once her son got to her. “Charles.”

“Hi Maman.” He kissed her cheek. He greeted his brother as well.

The sound of laughter made him turn towards the lake only for his heart to start bearing faster. Making their way towards them was Arthur and Y/n. She was wearing a white sundress that reached her knees and she had the biggest smile on her face he had ever seen. Suddenly he felt a tinge of jealousy towards his brother knowing he had made her laugh. Spotting him, y/n’s smile grew wider, and she picked up the pace.

“Mon Cherie,” he pulled her into him and spun her round causing her to burst out laughing once again making his heart leap.

“Hi.” A soft cough causes they two friends to separate. “Hi Charlotte.” y/n gave her a small smile.

“Hi.” The latter responded feeling annoyance with the younger girl. She made sure to place her hand around her boyfriend’s waist.

Y/n stepped away from him and felt Arthur next to her. “So how have you been?” she asked.

“Good, Charles and I had so much fun in Australia. It’s such a pity you guys couldn’t join us.”

Y/n choose to ignore the sarcasm in the other girl’s voice something only she seemed to pick up on. “Well, I’m glad you are here,” she replied even though she wasn’t telling the truth. It still hurt to see him with someone else.

Over the next few days, she had tried to get a minute alone with Charles, she wanted to tell him about London, but Charlotte made sure to keep him so busy that she never got a chance. Tonight, was their last night together before he had to get back to Formula 1 and she was leaving for London at the end of the week. The two families had just enjoyed a nice dinner together when Arthur decided that they needed to go out and enjoy the last night. The younger group made their way to the local bar while their mothers headed back to the house. It was here that they ran into Pierre Gasly.

“Where’s your sister?” he asked Y/n as they all enjoyed a drink.

“She and Marcus are enjoying a trip in the Maldives. His boss’s idea.”

He took a sip. “They gonna be back before you leave?”

She shrugged, “Not like it matters. She doesn’t really care much.”

“Where are you going?” Charlotte asked. Charles was currently in the men’s room, so Y/n told her making sure to inform her not to tell Charles as she was going to do it herself. The topic was soon dropped as soon as the latter reappeared. “Let's dance.” Charlotte took his hand and dragged him to the dance floor. He looked at his friends in surprise.

“Let's get a refill,” Pierre stood up. She swiftly grabbed his outstretched hand. “When are you going to tell him?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “It’s not like I'm hiding it from him. I just haven't had the chance.”

“Well good luck.” he grimaced before pointing behind her.

Charles was making his way over to them and he looked pissed. Before she could even think he silently grabbed her hand and practically dragged her outside. When he looked at her, she felt her heart sink. She knew he could get angry; she had seen it whenever something went wrong at a race. However, he had never looked at her the way he did now.

“Were you going to tell me, or just sneak off and think I wouldn't notice?”

She should have known Charlotte would spill. “I was going to tell you. There just hasn’t been a chance.”

“A Chance? Y/n you have known for months!”

“We’ve both been busy. Not to mention I haven't seen you in a while.”

“Oh, so now it's my fault?” he snapped.

“That’s not what I said.”

“Then what?” he retorted. “Everyone else seems to know, even Pierre it seems, and he has also been busy.”

“Charles,” she placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

When he looked into her eyes, she could see both pain and anger in them. “When?”

“At the end of the week.”

He nodded. “Well, I guess you won't be at the race on Sunday.”

“Charlotte will be there. You won't even miss me,”

“She’s not you,” he mumbled.

“What?” she wasn’t sure she had heard him right.”

“Forget it. Go live your wonderful life in London.”

She tried to stop him as he made to walk away but he just brushed past her back into the bar. She felt the tears sting her eyes. Why did it have to be this hard and why did it feel like she had just lost her friend?

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader

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fangirlingfromdownunder · 1 year

Text

Solo Roadtrip Comfort

Summary - Part 12 in the Comfort series

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic), Reader x Bobby (father-figure)

Warnings - mentions of pregnancy,

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N - G’day guys, I just wanna start by thanking you for all the likes, reblogs and follows since my last post, I really appreciate it. I hope you like this one too. And remember my inbox is always open for requests or even if you just wanna chat. Until next week, enjoy!

You and Dean stay with Bobby for a few days before Sam catches a new lead. Dean, not wanting you to travel alone again insisted you drive back to the bunker together before he and Sam headed off again. While you didn’t really want to return to being alone, you finally agreed the bunker was home and you were safest there. You all knew it wasn’t going to be a milk run, but Dean promised to be back in time for your ultrasound appointment. However, nothing had gone to plan since they left. On the third day in pursuit of the high-level demon they’d called Bobby in for assistance. You were spending every waking hour researching and looking for demonic omens. With less than 48 hours to your appointment and no significant progress, you decide to call Dean to encourage him just to come home and regroup.

“Hey, sweetheart, everything okay?”

“Yeah, just miss you.”

“I miss you too. I really thought we would’ve caught the son of a bitch by now.”

“I know...”

“24 more hours, okay, sweetheart? I’ll come back for the appointment, demon or no demon. I made a promise and I intend to keep it.”

“I called up to convince you, but truly, Dean, it’s just an ultrasound. I’ll get the pictures and there’ll be others. We’ll probably barely be able to see anything anyway. You should keep on this demon. It could be the key to creating a safer world for our peanut.”

“We’re chasing our tails, baby. We’re no closer to finding it than we were a week ago. I just want to hold you in my arms again.”

“I want nothing more than to be in your arms, but…”

“I know. I’ll give it 24 more hours. If we catch a lead we’ll chase it, otherwise I’m coming home to you. Deal?”

“Deal. I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

“You better not be overexerting yourself with research. Promise me you’ve been sleeping and eating and managing your stress.”

“I promise. Three full meals a day with snacks and I’m in our cold, lonely bed with a book or a movie by midnight, up every day well after dawn.”

“That’s my girl. I’ll be back to warm up that bed and give you some company soon enough.”

“I love you. Get back to work, I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Alright, sweetheart. I’ll call you tonight.”

You hang up and go to the kitchen to make yourself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich before going back to research, but you find the peanut butter jar empty – damn Dean putting empty jars in the cupboard. The thought of your fiance makes you smile for a second. But your craving takes over. You go to your room and change out of Dean’s T-shirt into one of your own with ripped jeans and finish your outfit with one of his flannels before slipping on your boots and heading for the garage. You take the keys for the bright red car off the hook and get in, driving to the store. Once you get there you grab a new jar of peanut butter and a range of your other favourite snacks including a fresh apple pie. You take your things to the counter but something feels off.

You feel uncomfortable with how the cashier is looking at you. You could’ve sworn his eyes were pitch black, but when you walk over with your groceries and get a closer look they’re bright blue. You try to push the anxiety down, but you can’t ignore your years of hunting experience and the sinking feeling in your stomach. That’s when you realise you had left the bunker completely unarmed. So instead you try to be inconspicuous and just pay for your groceries and leave. You keep looking back over your shoulder with each step you take towards your extremely conspicuous car. You quickly get in and lock the doors behind you and zoom off back towards the bunker. Once you’re out on the straight road you call Dean, but after two rings you hang up and call Sam instead.

“Hey, Y/N. What’s up?”

“You with Dean?”

“I’m at the Library. Dean’s off with Bobby chatting to the locals.”

“Oh ok. Umm…good.”

“What’s going on? You know he doesn’t like it when you come to me instead of him. Didn’t you just almost break up over this a couple of weeks ago?”

“You know what he’s like…he stresses so much.”

“You know why though.”

“I know just…fine! I call him.”

Just as you’re about to say your goodbyes your phone lights up with an incoming call. “Speak of the devil…he’s calling. Thanks, Sam. I’ll see you whenever you guys get back. Be safe and good luck!”

You hang up and answer Dean’s call.

“Hey, sweetheart, something wrong? Are you okay? The baby?”

“We’re both fine. Give me a sec,” you put the phone down while you drive into the garage, but stop halfway when something occurs to you, “shit!”

“Y/N? Sweetheart? What’s going on?”

You hear Dean’s worried calls and pick your phone back up. “Something’s not right, Dean.”

“With the baby? Are you bleeding? Does it hurt? I know I hate hospitals-”

“I’m fine. The baby’s fine. I already told you.”

“Then what’s not right? What’s going on?”

“I gotta get out of here. I think someone’s in the bunker.”

“Son of a bitch! Dammit! I’ll send Sam back on the plane and I’ll drive. Dammit! I’ll get on a plane…”

You quickly back out of the garage and speed off down the road. You don’t know where to go, but you can’t risk being caught in the bunker with a demon. You try to take deep breaths to manage your stress, completely zoning out your frantic fiance on the phone. After a few minutes, you spot a clearing in the trees, drive off the road, and park.

“Y/N? Talk to me? Are you there? Are you okay?”

“Dean. I think the demon you’re looking for is here in Kansas.”

“I’m getting in the car now. I’m gonna pick up Sam and Bobby and we’re gonna check it out. I want you to get out of there and drive to Bobby’s and lock yourself in the panic room. Don’t stop unless you absolutely have to. And call me whenever you do.”

“Dean…It’s all my fault,” you try to take a deep breath but end up crying instead. The stress is too much for you to handle alone, along with your raging hormones. “I went out. I didn’t take my gun or my knife. I just wanted a peanut butter and jelly sandwich but you ate all the peanut butter! I just wanted a sandwich…And I-I forgot to shut the garage door. It’s my fault. They found me. The cashier-”

“Hey, hey, hey! Y/N! Sweetheart! Slow down! Take a deep breath with me,” Dean takes an exaggerated breath in and out so you can hear him. He does this a few times until he can hear you’ve settled down a little. “Okay, now start at the beginning. Tell me everything.”

You tell him everything that’s happened since you last spoke, including your call to Sam and hunch about the cashier.

“Okay, we’re gonna stick to the same plan okay? You keep driving to Bobby’s, I can stay on the line if you want. If you need to stop to fill up, pee or get snacks you call me, Sam or Bobby – you don’t unlock or get out of the car without one of us on the line. As soon as I meet up with them we’re all gonna head back. Sam and I will go to Kansas and search the bunker and check the town for demons, Bobby will go home to be with you. We’ll go there and pick you up and bring you home as soon as we know it’s safe.”

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

“For what?”

“For scaring you, for screwing up, for not being more careful…”

“Everything’s gonna be okay. It’s not your fault. Granted it’s a little early for baby-brain to be setting in yet, but then again I’ve never been around many pregnant women, so what would I know?”

“I can’t go to Sioux Falls, what about the appointment?”

“You call and reschedule, or I can. It can be a few days late. It’s more important you’re safe. I just pulled up in front of the library, I’m gonna go get Sam and fill him in, you should start driving. Do you want to stay on the line?”

You take a deep breath. “No, I’m a badass hunter, I can do this!”

“Damn right you are! You got this. By the way, check the glove box.”

You do as you’re told and find a silver knife and gun. “But how?”

“Before we left Bobby’s I put a spare set in there. It’s your car whenever you want it, you know that, and I knew I couldn’t stop you from leaving the bunker when I’m not there. But what I could do was make sure you never left unarmed.”

“I love you, baby.”

“Be safe. You got this. And call whenever you stop, we’ll be tracking you too.”

You hang up and go to close the glove box but something catches your eye: a mix tape. You pull it out, you can’t help but smile as you read the writing: A mixtape for the love of my life. You put it in to play and start the car. Classic rock fills the car as you peel off back towards the road.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

A few hours pass before the need to pee is so unbearable you have to stop. You take the next exit and call Sam before pulling up at the Gas-N-Sip. He answers quickly.

“Hey Y/N, you’re on speaker with Dean too.”

“Hey, sweetheart! First stop? Where are you?”

“I thought you two were tracking me,” you say as you get out and fuel up the car.

“We are, but I’m driving.”

“Columbus, Nebraska. I’m fuelling up and then I really need to pee. Luckily I already had snacks, although I still want a PB&J!”

“You can make one as soon as you get to Bobby’s,” Dean says.

“Hey, we know that’s not a short drive, especially by yourself. I know you’re not supposed to be drinking coffee or energy drinks at the moment, and I know Dean’s ready to punch me for even suggesting this, but you might need to consider it. It’s not safe to sleep on the side of the road alone, nor can we guarantee any motels.”

“Thanks for the advice, Sam, but I’d rather risk it at a motel than risk the baby’s health by binging on caffeine.”

“Only you know what’s best for you-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I know really gotta pee!” You rush to the women’s bathroom keeping them on the line but telling them to shut up. You check the stalls finding them all empty before going into the first one and locking it. You listen carefully for anyone else coming and going but it’s quiet. So you do your business and get out as quickly as possible. After paying for the fuel you get back in the car and drive off.

“I’m back on the road now. I’ll call you next time I stop.”

“Be safe!” they both say in unison.

“I love when you talk at the same time. You two be safe too! Oh, and I found the mixtape, love of my life,” you say before hanging up.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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