#15 and 18 is NOT A WEIRD GAP

[mordacitatis]

age gap discourse has rotted the brains of people on this website i cannot lie

[just-an-enby-lemon]

Okay, I just found out that historically Mary was between fourteen and fiteen yo when the archangel Gabriel gave her the pregnancy news. My whole Jesus is somewhat real on Good Omens so how did THAT conversation went made me actually more curious now because it's not only Good Omens Gabriel gives bonkers news to a human but Good Omens Gabriel gives bonkers news to a teenager.

[licorishh]

Genshin characters age headcanons masterlist (updated)

Yeah. I could give you many reasons why I believe some of the more debatable/"controversial" ones are very sensible and Good based on just freaking paying attention to context given in the game but for now I'll just compile a basic list. If you'd like to hear my reasoning for some of these you're welcome to ask as long as you're polite about it.

List under the cut.

Aether/Lumine: 19

Amber: 18

Kaeya: 22

Lisa: 33

Barbara: 17

Razor: 16

Xiangling: 16

Beidou: 29

Xingqiu: 15

Fischl: 19

Ningguang: 31

Bennett: 18

Noelle: 18

Chongyun: 16

Sucrose: 20

Jean: 21

Diluc: 22

Qiqi: 6-8 (Hard to tell given she's a zombie and talks and acts differently from normal)

Mona: 20

Keqing: 21

Venti: 20 (biologically)

Klee: 7-ish?

Diona: She's so hard because she literally runs a business and acts like an adult but she's super short. I have no idea.

Tartaglia: 21

Xinyan: 19

Zhongli: 37

Albedo: 21

Ganyu: 23

Xiao: 20

Hu Tao: 18

Rosaria: 23

Yanfei: 21

Eula: 24

Kazuha: 20

Ayaka: 18

Sayu: 9- or 10-ish maybe?

Yoimiya: 18

Kujou Sara: 24

Raiden: 28 (biologically)

Kokomi: 18

Thoma: 20

Gorou: 18

Itto: 26

Yun Jin: 19

Shenhe: 23

Yae Miko: 30

Ayato: 26

Yelan: 24

Shinobu: 20

Heizou: 21

Collei: 16

Tighnari: 22

Dori: Super hard to tell, because again, she lives alone and runs a business by herself despite using the short girl model.

Candace: 24

Cyno: 23

Nilou: 21

Nahida: 7-9

Layla: 18-19 (she seems to maybe be in her first year of college - definitely in college, I'm just guessing the year here)

Faruzan: 24 (I know she's like a hundred years older but she was stuck and didn't age and I'm talking biologically still)

Scaramouche: 21 (biologically)

Yaoyao: 7-ish?

Alhaitham: 26

Dehya: 25

Mika: 17

Kaveh: 27

Baizhu: 34

Kirara: 20

Lynette: 20

Lyney: 20

Freminet: 17 (Don't know how much younger he is than his siblings, just guessing based on context and the way he talks and acts)

Furina: 21 (biologically)

Neuvillette: 36 (biologically)

Wriothesley: 32

Navia: 26

Clorinde: 27

Sigewinne: Basically impossible to know as she's a Melusine and not a human

Charlotte: 21

Signora: 29

Dottore: 33

Arlecchino: 31

Dainsleif: 22 (biologically)

[juneberrie]

WHAT HAPPENED W THE GUYY??

SO LIKE. he said he likes me back !!!!!! ayayayyaya!!!! but the age gap (im 14 hes 17) which tbh i kind of get? but still im sad :( he said "maybe when we're older if we still talk" so. theres hope!!!

[dgaftilwedie]

giomis weirds me out because my brother and i have the same age gap. why do peoppe ship then giorno is 15 LMFAOAOA

[rad-batson]

Imagine the Damian and Jon age gap but it happens a couple years later like Jon is 15 and Damian is 17. So when Jon comes back, and he’s 18 to Damian’s 17, everyone keeps making jokes about how he has to “wait a couple of months” because Jon’s crush on Damian is the most obvious thing in the world. (Unless you’re Damian, of course.) Now Jon is blushing furiously and avoiding eye contact, but Damian doesn’t get it?? Why is Jon so flustered? Jon, stop acting weird. We’re just going to see a movie. Stop blushing. You’re above this, Jon. Why won’t you hug me anymore? I thought you liked hugs. No, I don’t like them, but I’ve come to tolerate them from you. Do you mean to tell me all of that work was for nothing? How could you do this to me? Just hug me, damnit! Stop ignoring me!

[possiblylando]

HTP; Ghoul Lore Audio Log Spoilers/Analysis/Discussion

Dude holy shit uh Spoiler barrier and then all in cause

Okay Okay fuck where to begin this episode literally changes everything okay I guess lets start at the Draught. Based on what we know about this unique Draught, it means Grimal might not be the ghoul?? If the ghoul potentially has this Draught (which I vaguely doubt will come into play in this arc specifically) it could mean anyone could be the ghoul so long as they were only in a place without 1 other person. Atleast I assume so because if they could use this high power Dominate on multiple people simultaneously then this whole operation would be cooked from the start. While I was very mixed on the idea of Gloria as the Ghoul previously, I think its far more possible now. This high level Dominate (Lets assume 4 dots) This ghoul could have access to Rationalize or Forgetful Mind, Or any others in that category. If Grimal is was being commanded to act that could explain why everything is so suspicious around her. Have someone else go in and take care of Occam while the ghoul sits with someone else and has the perfect alibi. So now I think the possibilities for Ghoul are; 1. Grimal is the Ghoul (The Draught is a red herring and simply setting up something in a future arc instead of this current one.) 2. Gloria is the Ghoul & has this Draught; this is based more on Vibes and the fact Gloria doesn't actually do too much in part 1 outside checking Occam's pulse. If she's the ghoul and commanded someone (Namely Grimal) to attack Occam, she would have a vested interested in knowing if the attack was successful. Okay thats about it for my thoughts on the Ghoul right now. Onto the far more important bit of this episode. Because this was not simpyl a Ghoul Lore episode, THIS WAS A MARCKUS LORE EPISODE TROJAN HORSE.

But before the deep Marckus shit- Markus was 12 in 1988. Door was present and seems to be in his 20s or 30s. Boy has not been born yet and Boy is 11 in 2006 so he was born in like 1995. So I think its reasonable to place door as being in his 20s here, having Boy in his 30s. This means Door is probably 8-15? (Maybe) years older than Markus which would make him roughly 40 in modern day. D does look markedly younger in these photographs but I'm not sure if thats art style or actually because he's aged. It does put a damped on my thoughts about D being MUCH older than he seems. But we do know his previous Ex-Wife Rozalia (The Ghoul) is roughly 108 in modern day. It seems to be implied D had met & later married her after she was pretty deep into being a ghoul so there probably was a large age gap already. But it still kinda stands out to me. D is very afraid or Marckus becoming a Ghoul because he sees himself in him. I don't necessarily think D was a ghoul (thought it could explain his weird age). Thought all this might be confirmation Bias as in the more recent episodes D's hair has been more consistently colored with grey streaks when compared to earlier episodes where it was more like a sheen in his hair. It just feels like D has done too much to only be roughly in his 60-70s and very fit. While older people can certainly be in good physical condition it doesnt seem like D has suffered any real negatives from aging? He's MINIMUM 18 years older than Door who is in his 40s but again that's a low ball. I don't know. Alright time for the Marckus stuff. So its rather basic background knowledge that HTP's main cast is inspired by the cast of Warhammer 40k TTS. Now up until this point I had thought it was mostly a baseline thing. Only really carrying over personalities and vague relationships between characters while having the freedom to change them with that background knowledge. But based on this episode it appears to be more relevant.

Whatever the fuck Marckus managed to summon, It was something not even D understood. This is in directly parallel with 40k's Magnus who Marckus is based on. For those who don't know about 40k lore (I don't blame you its VERY long.), Magnus is a Primarch (Emperor's special kids) who ended up being manipulated by 40k's god of trickery and ended up fucking up literally everything because of his lack of thinking things through and the influence of said trickster god. Gods in 40k are manifestations of humanity (and alien's) collective subconscious minds and often take the forms of their most volatile negative aspects. They're entited formed from 'The Warp' which is the source of magic in 40k. Magnus is very naturally tuned to the warp. Almost all the issues in TTS (and 40k) relating to Magnus are because he has a MASSIVE complex. He craves parental affection and affirmation but in TTS every time he thinks hes denied it, some shit goes wrong. When he actually gets that parental affection (Earlier season 2 iirc) he mellows out alot until finding out the only reason the emperor (D's counterpart) brought him back was so that Magnus would act as a pawn and decoy in his 5d chess game to deal with political enemies. Magnus is not happy about this. With all this background information, whats present in this episode slots into place. Marckus seems to have forgotten about the incident yes. The better case is that he blocked out the memory due to trauma. But the worse possibility is that a seed was planted. One that's been festering within him since that time. D may be planning to tell Marckus everything in a few months, But I get the feeling before those months are up, That seed will sprout. In one form or another, Marckus will be given the option to go down the same path of darkness as his predecessor. I don't think Marckus would go for such a path without a push but the one providing that push might be D, even if unintentionally. D is so focused on the forest that he's missing the trees.

[nogoodsheepstealing-greatgrandma]

HOTD with book ages vs show casting

It's interesting to think about how fans perceptions of characters would be radically different if we had book accurate casting.

Emily Carey (aged 18-19 here) is perfectly age-accurate to play an 18-year-old Alicent.

Meanwhile Paddy Considine, at 48, was pushing it a fair bit to play a 29-year-old Viserys.

For reference, Tom Glynn-Carney was 28 while filming Season 2.

So not that he's my fancast for young Paddy or anything, but let's be real. You would all be writing self-insertxVizzy fics. Alicent would have no more agency in the marriage if Viserys was his book age than his show age, but fan perceptions of Viserys would definitely be different if he was played by a young and attractive actor (no offense of course to Paddy, he is serving Targaryen realness etc.)

Or look at Fabian Frankel. He would have been around 27/28 while filming season 1. You were shipping Alicole back when Emily Carey was still in the role, after all.

And then there's Rhaenyra, who was 8 during the events of the first episode, and 9 when Viserys married Alicent.

Milly Alcock, roughly 21 here, is just a tad older than 8-year-old Rhaenyra.

Amelie Child-Villiers would have been 12-13 while filming Rings of Power, so older than Rhaenyra at the very beginning but can pass for younger.

To anyone who thinks a child Rhaenyra wouldn't have been interesting to follow, er... have you read ASOIAF? There are quite a few prominent child POV characters, you may have noticed. And Alicent doesn't automatically become uninteresting if she's 18 rather than 15... or 40.

I mean I get it, Rhaenycent shippers, you prefer the sapphic dynamic in HOTD... and it is absolutely fine to prefer something! But it isn't inherently deeper or more interesting. It isn't objectively better. BFFesbians can be just as one-note as you claim step-mother/daughter relationships are with the wrong writing, and step-mother/daughter relationships can be richly complicated.

Now, I've already gone through the absolute horror that is book Rhaenyra and book Criston

Criston Cole was 22 when he met a 7-year-old Rhaenyra, 23 during the events of the first episode. So Fabian at 27 (pictured here) is a a few years older, but his age gap with Amelie is the same as Criston and Rhaenyra. And yikes. This is why 'Criston the Dad who Stepped Up' posts make me throw up in my mouth. (Also it is so weird that Criston is never recast after the time jump even though the actor is younger than Emma D'Arcy - Criston is 47 during the Dance).

And yes, Daemon has a similar age gap with Rhaenyra

Daemon was 24 during the events of the first episode. Though I would add that Daemon wasn't, contrary to popular opinion by greens, grooming Rhaenyra when she was a young child. There isn't really any indication that he paid particular attention to his 8-year-old niece - he was mostly sulking on Dragonstone in a relationship with an adult Mysaria for starters, and then he was off in the Stepstones till Viserys and Alicent's 5th wedding anniversary tourney.

From then, no I'm not in favour of a 30-year-old Daemon and a 15-year-old Rhaenyra... I am not in favour of childbrideros. But considering he'd been absent from her life between the ages of 8-15, and there is no indication he ever paid any attention to her before then... it is less creepy than Criston Cole being Rhaenyra's shadow from the age of 7, with rumours of a sexual relationship beginning at a point when she would have been 12-14.

By Westeros standards Daemon unfortunately falls into the 'culturally normalised and could have a whole lot worse' category (and tbf, considering the popularity of ships like SanSan...). This isn't a pro-daemyra or anti-daemyra post, I'm not really going to go into their relationship or whether or not it's healthy here, just clarifying that Daemon isn't the Humbert Humbert of this story - that would be Criston (not being Humbert Humbert of course is a very low bar).

And when it comes to the casting and how that impacts audience perceptions... Matt Smith at 39 was too old for both 24 and 30 year-old Daemon (though exquisite in the role of course).

Considering how his haters condemn Daemon for his actions in episode 1 while excusing Aegon for rape and Aemond for murdering Luke (and burning alive many many other children)... Let's have a look at an age-appropriate actor for 24-year-old Daemon and see if that changes anything.

Ooh would you look at that, Ewan Mitchell at 24 while filming S1.

Or Tom at 28 during S2, just two years younger than 30-year-old Daemon. With a face that wins hearts over rape. You telling me if Daemon was his book age you wouldn't be excusing his actions? You wouldn't be taking all the rape apology arguments Aegon stans use and applying them to Daemon's seduction of a 15-year-old Rhaenyra?

Especially if you still had him acting alongside 21-year-old Milly, who was supposed to pass for a 14 to 18-year-old Rhaenyra.

Hopefully though no one would be excusing a younger Daemon played by Tom Glynn-Carney if he had been put against an actual 14/15 year-old like Evie Allen. Who would have been a more age-accurate (and disturbing) casting for Rhaenyra...

Oh wait, how old was Maddie Evans (Dyana) while filming S1 again? 15? Never mind.

Casting teenagers in such scenarios is of course a difficult business - above all the first priority is to protect underage actors. Milly was well-suited to convincingly play Rhaenyra from early teens to late teens, and it's impossible to constantly re-cast for absolute age-accuracy across the time jumps. But it does impact perception - while the first priority is to protect underage actors, the casting of older actors to play teenagers does contribute to society's perceptions of teenage girls in particular as mature adults, rather than children.

Meanwhile the attractiveness of adult male actors - and the younger they are - does indeed shape what some audiences are willing to forgive or excuse. Reactions to Daemon and Viserys by fans (especially green fans) would be radically different if they were cast with their book ages - sorry to say it greens, but your objections to their characters is in large part due to the fact that you are not attracted to DILFS (or leprosy!). And even if we still aged up Rhaenyra like the show does when she first met Criston Cole, reactions to him during the Dance would be vastly different if he was played by a book-accurate 47-year-old. Again, Fabian Frankel is younger than Emma D'arcy.

Of course, the bar for age accurate casting is clear in the way we were supposed to accept Olivia Cooke playing Tom Glynn Carney's mother (they are two years apart).

Because again if Alicent had been 18 at the start of the show and 41 at the start of the dance she would have ceased to be an interesting character or something I guess. Because no one wants an older woman (ew gross!) as the series co-lead alongside a non-binary lead. And because mother/stepdaughter relationships are inherently one-note while BFFesbians are inherently rich, deep and complex... apparently. It has nothing to do with, you know, the writing quality.

Final Round!!! Aegon and Aemond picking fights with kids

Harvey Sadler here is 8/9 years old when he played young Lucerys. Which makes this baby face 2-3 years older than... a six-year-old Book Jacaerys when 10-year-old Aemond was 'pummelling him savagely'.

So yeah, "3 against 1" - the oldest of those 3 being younger than Harvey Sadler. And honestly, 6-year-old Jace has my undying respect for the sheer balls on him to go up against a bigger kid twice his age and size. Does he care that Aemond has just claimed the largest dragon in the world? No, he pushed over his baby brother!

"But it's more interesting if Aemond and Jace are peers" Maybe. If HOTD gave Jace equal screentime and character development perhaps. But they didn't. Any value added by making the antagonist interesting and sympathetic is cancelled out if the cost is ignoring the protagonist or making the protagonist boring (especially in a family civil war drama!).

"But sympathetic Aemond is much more interesting" I am not arguing against making him sympathetic. He is still a kid here, and he still has Aegon to bully him and earn him pity points and trigger a cycle of bullying as he takes out his grievances on others who don't deserve it etc. You don't need to age up his victims or remove sympathy or screentime from them. Sympathy doesn't have to be zero-sum.

Leo Hart was 13 at the time of filming, so the perfect age to play a 12-year-old Jace during the dinner scene where a grown-ass Aegon picks a fight with him over asking Helaena for a dance. Also an accurate age to play a 13-year-old Luke when Aemond murders him.

Elliot Grihault who played teenaged Luke was meanwhile actually closer in age to Book Jace during the dance than Harry Collett (no offence Harry, you still made a more believable teenager than 24-year-old Jon Snow did).

And lest we forget Aegon's true nemesis... 13 year old girls on tiny dragons 'no bigger than a horse'. No offence to a 24-year-old Bethany Antonia, but Shani Smethurst at 12 was perfectly cast to play Baela during the Dance and absolutely would have been the next Arya if this show didn't hate black girls.

But hey, at least we got adult Baela saying "I am blood and fire" while the script struggles (*cough doesn't bother) to find her anything to really do. That sure is an improvement over book Baela acting out, causing chaos, kissing kitchen boys and crying to save them from punishment, grieving alone on dragonstone after the gullet, trying desperately to get the adults around her to believe her suspicions about Grey Ghost, wrecking Aegon on her tiny dragon, being forced to grow up quickly under captivity and fiercely defending her rescuers from execution.

[justagalwhowrites]

So this may be awkward but I saw your dbf fic and thought what about best friend's dad? Obviously it would either have to be a no outbreak au where Sarah is in her 20s or several years after the show when Ellie is an adult. Maybe the oc is a few years older than Ellie or Sarah or whichever you choose. Maybe I just haven't read enough TLOU smut but this is one I haven't seen and I would love to read something like this!

OMG Hi bestie!

So THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT WITH THIS??? You sent this in FOREVER ago but I've been so hung up on Lavender and Beskar Doll I just didn't get around to this.

Anyway, HERE'S THE ASK FINALLY! I hope you like it!

UPDATE A/N: This is now a full series (has been for a while but I just realized I never linked to the master list from here.) If you'd like to read more, you can find it here.

New in Town

When you move to Austin for work, your best friend Sarah recommends that you hang out with her dad, Joel, to get to know the area. Sarah just never mentioned the fact that her dad is just your type.

Pairing: BFD!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: SMUT! Fingering, oral (male receiving), protected P in V sex. Legal age gap (Reader is 35 Joel is 47.) No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only

Length: 5.6k (wtf is my problem)

You should have made Sarah text you a picture at the very least. 

The bar was starting to get busy and you’d realized about 15 minutes earlier that you had no fucking clue what your best friend’s dad looked like. 

“You’re sure it’s not weird that I hang out with your dad?” You asked Sarah the morning you left town. 

“It’s not weird,” she waved you off, her curls bouncing. “Promise. He’s not like… an old dad. He’s fun. You get along with me so you’ll get along with him. It’s at least something so you’re not stuck in Austin not knowing anybody.” 

“Yeah,” you nodded and then sighed, looking at your coffee. One last cup of the good stuff in Seattle before your flight in a few hours. 

There was a knot in your stomach at the thought of leaving, now that it was actually here. You’d been in Seattle for two years now after moving here for work. Sarah was the only other woman in your department - not to mention the only other person under 40. She might have been 10 years younger than you but the two of you had become fast friends. She’d been there for a year - she’d started fresh out of college - when you came aboard and was kind enough to let you in on the office politics. 

“So fucking glad to have another girl around here,” she said after you’d been there about two weeks, her arm looped through yours as you walked to a restaurant down the street from your office for lunch. “Lunch just isn’t as good with old dudes…” 

Making friends outside of the office was just as awkward as you remembered and it wasn’t long before you and Sarah were hanging out all the time outside of work, too. She was probably going to be the thing you missed most about Seattle. 

But the promise of a big promotion - setting up your own team at the new branch of your firm in Austin - was too good to pass up. 

“Hey,” she put her hand on your wrist from across the small table. “You’re going to kill it down there. Just remember to demand me when the time comes to add a junior copywriter.” 

“Well, simply no one else will do,” you smiled a little. She laughed. 

You finished your coffee and Sarah dropped you off at the airport - your office paying to ship all your things down - and you flew off to your new life in Texas. 

After a week of settling in, you finally caved and reached out to Sarah’s dad. She told you to just text him and you kind of hoped he wouldn’t respond. Once the ball was in his court, you’d be off the hook. If he never responded and you never met the guy, Sarah could hardly hold it against you. 

“Hi! Is this Joel Miller?” You texted originally, following it up with your name and - just in case Sarah hadn’t bothered to tell him you were going to be texting - some indication that you weren’t a total stranger. “I just moved to town and Sarah told me to text you.” 

“There,” you said to yourself, taking a sip of wine as you sat back on your couch. “Done. Not my problem any….” 

Your phone lit up on your coffee table and you groaned. Of course he texted back. Of course he texted back fucking immediately. 

“Hi,” he said. “Sarah mentioned you might text. Said you might need someone to show you around town. Want to grab a drink later this week?” 

You rapped your fingers against the globe of your glass, the wine lush and red. 

“Sure,” you said. “I don’t start work until next week, so just let me know when and where works for you and I’ll be there!” 

You made plans to meet up two days later. You’d showed up a few minutes early, wanting to get the lay of the land before you met a stranger in a bar. 

Joel, it seemed, was a bit late. You kept looking up at the door, waiting to see someone who looked something like Sarah walk in. But so far, there wasn’t anyone who fit the bill. A few guys who looked like they were UT students deciding to check out something further from campus, four guys who who definitely had just gotten off motorcycles, one man who was almost stupid hot and looked about 10 years too young to be Sarah’s dad and a guy about your age with a date. 

You glanced at your phone. 9:13. At what point did you call it? Maybe try to pick up the hot guy who seemed to be hovering on his own at the bar. You hadn’t gotten laid in a while and you’d at least done your hair and makeup, even if you hadn’t tried to look like you were looking for a hookup. 

Your phone screen hadn’t fully dimmed yet when it lit up bright, vibrating with Joel’s name on the caller ID. You sighed and answered. 

“Hello?” You pressed your free hand against your ear, trying to drown out the sound of the bar behind you, but it sounded noisy on his end, too. 

“Hi,” he said, a bit of a Texas twang in his voice. “Just wanted to make sure you were still plannin’ on comin’ out tonight…” 

“Yeah,” you laughed a little. “I was wondering the same about you, I’m here…” 

“Where?” He said. “Don’t see you…” 

You started looking around then, too, looking at every face at every table around you before you settled on… the stupid hot guy at the bar. 

Who looked too young to have a kid Sarah’s age. 

Who had a phone pressed to his ear. 

Who was now staring at you. 

You raised a hand and smiled awkwardly, giving him a small wave. 

He looked surprised for a moment before hanging up his phone, grabbing his beer from the bar, and heading for your table. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said, setting his drink down across from you and taking his seat. “I didn’t mean to keep you waitin’, I was just expecting someone Sarah’s age…” His eyes went wide for a second. “Not that you look old or anythin’, just… Not what I was expecting.” 

“Yeah, Sarah was the baby of the Seattle office,” you smiled a little. “She’s the best though. Thank God for her, I’d have been so bored there without her.” 

“Yeah,” he smiled and nodded. “She is the best.” 

Up close, Joel was still stupid hot. Uncomfortably hot. It was not fair how hot he was for him to be off limits because he was your best friend’s dad. His hair was dark and a little shaggy and you had to fight the urge to brush an unruly curl back from his brow. His eyes were the warmest brown with a light to them that made you want to just stare at him for a while. His crooked smile with one dimple, his slightly patchy beard, his unreasonably sculpted arms for a man who had to have at least a decade on you unless he was a teenager when Sarah was born. If you hadn’t met him this way, you’d be trying to get him home for at least a one night stand. But he was your best friend’s dad. Even if he made your core tighten and heat pool around your hips. 

It turned out, you and Joel had more in common than you’d expected. You liked the same music and he knew some good live music spots in town. You were both into hiking - and both agreed that the views in this part of the country would be kind of lacking compared to the Pacific Northwest. You both liked trying to find the spiciest food in town and eating it as a matter of principle. 

Of course, you hadn’t spent much time with men the age you THOUGHT Joel was going to be. Your only experience with men in their 50s was at work and that usually involved showing them how to save a word document as a PDF. You’d gone into this expecting to sit awkwardly with the guy for about an hour before going your separate ways. But you were pretty sure he was in his mid 40s, the same age as a lot of the guys you’d gone out with back in Seattle, and the more drinks you had the harder it was to remember that you weren’t on a date. You were hanging out with your best friend’s dad. She probably had to beg him to meet up with you, he probably had a girlfriend he’d much rather be spending time with on a Friday night instead of his daughter’s friend who was new in town. 

But he seemed happy enough to stay for hours. The two of you were laughing over a particularly bad movie you’d somehow both seen - Giant Spider Invasion - when the bar announced last call. 

“Shit,” Joel looked at his watch, clamping his hand over it after a second. “Didn’t realize how late it got. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take up your whole damn night…” 

“No, I’m sorry,” you waved him off, reaching for your phone for the first time in hours to try and order an Uber. “I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than entertain me.” 

“Not exactly,” he half smiled at you. That fucking dimple. “Don’t really got a thirvin’ social life. I get the feeling this arrangement was as much for me as it was you, knowin’ Sarah.” 

“She’s cunning, that one,” you said, putting in your destination address. You groaned. “Shit!”

“What?” Joel asked. 

“Surge pricing,” you sighed. “Come ON, it’s almost 2 a.m., it can’t be that busy…” 

“It’s homecomin’ weekend at the school,” he shrugged. “Everyone’s in town drinking.” 

“That’ll do it,” you sighed, bracing yourself to spend almost $100 on a car ride home. 

“I can give you a ride,” he said. You looked up from your phone, frowning. “I’m good to drive.”

“I don’t want to put you out,” you said, about to push the button anyway. 

“You’re not,” he said. “Trust me.” 

*** 

Joel was very nearly in over his head with you. 

Every part of him was practically screaming “mistake, mistake, mistake, you are a big fucking mistake!” 

You were Sarah’s best friend. 

You were more than a decade younger than him. 

You were starting a new job and a new life and he really shouldn’t be trying to date someone he’d just hold back. 

YOU WERE SARAH’S BEST FRIEND. 

But none of that seemed to matter. He was damn near ready to kiss whatever asshole at Uber came up with surge pricing. He’d never been happier for an excuse to give someone a ride home. 

It had been years - at least - since he’d felt like this about anyone. He’d known you for hours, no time at all, but it felt like years. Like he could say anything to you and you’d understand it. You were obviously smart, so fucking smart. After talking about movies with you for five minutes he was half convinced you saw an entirely different movie than he had, talking about allegories and symbolism and holding onto little lines he wasn’t sure anyone else would notice or think about twice. He wanted to see if you’d let him get to know you that way, if you’d have any interest in trying to know him that way. Fuck, he wanted to know you.

It didn’t help that he’d spotted you the second he was in the bar, absently turning your glass in your fingers, looking at one of the University of Texas themed Bud Light posters on the wall like you were examining it, your eyebrows drawn together, your mind clearly somewhere else entirely. You were fucking gorgeous. Gorgeous in a way that it was a problem, it was distracting, it made him not want to think about or look at or consider anything else. It took conscious effort to not stare at you. When he hadn’t known who you were, he’d been praying Sarah’s friend would stand him up so he could go talk to you. Fuck, he wanted to talk to you. 

And then you answered the phone. 

And you were Sarah’s best friend. 

Fuck.

“You settlin’ in OK and all?” He asked after you gave him your address and he programmed it into Google Maps. 

“Mostly,” you nodded. “It’d be better if I could actually get a maintenance guy to come out to my place but…” 

Joel frowned. 

“What’s goin’ on?” 

“The garbage disposal has a hell of a leak,” you sighed. “I don’t know shit about plumbing so I’m afraid to try to fix it on my own. And the ceiling fan in my bedroom seems like it’s trying break out from its drywall prison whenever I turn it on so that’s been pretty useless. Maintenance keeps saying they’ll come by but they never do. I don’t think I’ll stay in that place longer than a year, this is what I get for apartment hunting from across the country.” 

“I could look at it for you,” Joel shrugged before he was smart enough to stop himself. 

“No,” you laughed and shook your head. “You’ve done enough for me as it is, I cannot ask you…” 

“You didn’t ask, I offered,” he said. “I’m a contractor, my area of expertise is fixin’ shit shoddy builders fucked up. You have plans tomorrow? I can come by, take a look.” 

Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid. That’s what he was. Fucking stupid. 

“Tomorrow would be great, actually,” you said. “I’m just about unpacked but I have a whole box of under the sink kitchen stuff that’s still sitting on my table and driving me insane. But you’re sure I’m not putting you out? I swear, it’s nothing that urgent, I just need to light a fire under management’s ass…” 

“Not puttin’ me out,” he smiled a little at the idea of that. Fuck, you were doing him a favor, giving him an excuse to see you again. 

Stupid. 

Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid STUPID. 

SARAH’S. BEST. FRIEND. 

“Early afternoon OK?” He asked. “Unless you gotta be somewhere…” 

“Yeah, so far my vibrant social life here includes you and the barista down the street who now knows I prefer my lattes skim,” you laughed. “I’ll be around, come over whenever works for you. I hugely appreciate it, you have no idea.” 

He watched you go into your apartment when he dropped you off, a townhouse that had definitely been built in the last five years. He sighed and shook his head. Shoddy fucking craftsmanship, things breaking that fast. He’d help you find a decent place when your lease was up. 

As a friend. 

Because he could be friends with you. That would be fine. Encouraged by his meddling but well-meaning daughter who’d arranged this to begin with. Friends help friends apartment hunt. He could be your friend. 

He fucked his hand before he passed out, trying to think of anything besides grabbing you and kissing you at the bar as he did. 

“Hey Dad! How’d it go last night?” 

His eyes were still bleary as he read the text from his daughter the next morning. 

“Hey Baby Girl,” he wrote back, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. How was it already 10 a.m.? How was Sarah a morning person? She sure as shit didn’t get that from him. “Went fine. Your friend seems nice.” 

She wrote back immediately. 

“She’s the BEST. Seriously. Give her like 5 minutes and she’s going to show you the best food in town, she always found the coolest restaurants up here, places no one else from the office even knew existed.” 

Joel smiled a little at that. He’d heard a lot about you over the last few years, now that he thought about it. He wasn’t big on social media so he only ever saw pictures Sarah texted him - usually a selfie in front of some tourist attraction as she stuck her tongue out at him - so he’d never had a face to put to the stories. But you’d become an integral part of her life in Seattle. 

You’d started as a “cool new coworker.” Then you got a name. And then you just became a “we.” “We went to this awesome new restaurant.” “We checked out this concert last night.” “We decided to go up the Space Needle because screw it, why not be a tourist in your own city sometimes?” He never needed to ask who she meant, he knew she was talking about you. 

He just hadn’t known it was you. 

Which was another reason this was stupid. He could not even consider doing something with you, even just in his head, not when you were that close with his daughter. 

“You guys going to hang out again?” She asked. “I think you’d be friends!” 

Joel ground his teeth for a second. 

“Don’t need you to find me friends just because Uncle Tommy got married.” 

Sarah replied right away. 

“Well if you did it yourself maybe I wouldn’t,” she said. “And she needs friends, too. Plus this is really all for my benefit, if she can swing me coming to the new Austin office and y’all are friends, we can all just hang out together. Way easier to coordinate my schedule.” 

Joel laughed a little. 

“Going to help her with something at her apartment today,” he sent back. “We’ll see if she wants me around after that.” 

Joel managed to keep from going to your house the second he was dressed. This wasn’t a problem he’d had since he was a fucking teenager, obsessed with some girl from his bio class. He was looking at his watch every five minutes, hoping it was reasonable to leave his house and go to yours. 

He called it at 11:45. He figured he’d bring you lunch. You said you liked spicy food - the spicier the better - and if your garbage disposal was leaking, chances are you couldn’t cook much. You’d need to eat something. It was the polite thing to do, he reasoned. 

Joel went to his favorite taco truck and got a little bit of almost everything. It was way too much food for two people but fuck it, he didn’t care. As long as it was something you’d like, he really didn’t give a shit. 

You were in some kind of matching not quite sweatsuit when you opened the door, the tan fabric looking so fucking soft. 

“Hey!” You smiled broadly, like him coming over made your day. You looked at your phone screen. “Damn you really mean early afternoon don’t you?” 

He glanced at his watch. 12:23. 

“Figured you could use some lunch,” he held up the takeout bag. “Didn’t think you were able to cook much, disposal outta commission…” 

“Are you really bringing me food when you came over to do me a favor?” You asked, brows raised. He shrugged. “They weren’t kidding about that whole southern gentleman thing, were they?” 

“Gotta give you pretty things some reason to put up with us,” he smiled a little. You smiled back and held the door open for him. 

Your place was sparsely decorated but comfortable and it looked like you were just about unpacked. Joel set the bag of tacos on the small table off your kitchen and you staked your claim to the spiciest one. 

��If it’s too hot for you, no shame in tappin’ out,” he teased, unwrapping his own taco. 

“I eat men with low spice tolerance for breakfast,” you waved him off. “This’ll be cake.” 

You took a bite and chewed for a second before your eyes went wide. Joel tried not to laugh at you. 

“Holy shit,” you held a hand in front of your full mouth as you spoke, your eyes watering. “That’s so hot! How the fuck…” 

“Yeah, you northerners don’t know what you’re dealin’ with,” Joel smirked. “Welcome to the big leagues.” 

“Oh, it’s on now, Miller,” you said, wincing a little. “I’ve got this, you have no idea…” 

He laughed but you finished the taco, eyes watering and face sweating, the whole way. 

“Alright, think you’ve earned some handyman work,” he smiled a little. You chugged water, somehow managing to look good as you did. “Kitchen sink right?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Run the water for longer than 30 seconds and it leaks like crazy…” 

He did as you said, opening the cabinet below. You had a pot inside to catch any stray water. He turned the faucet on and after less than a minute, water was gushing out from the pipe leading down to the disposal. He shut it off. 

“Good news is, it ain’t the disposal itself,” he said, putting his tools down beside the cabinet. “Looks like they just replaced it and did a shit job setting it up…” 

He got down on the ground, lying down so his upper body was in the cabinet just as you came and perched on the counter nearby, watching him closely. 

“Let me know what I can do to help,” you said. “I feel bad, you coming over, bringing me food, fixing my shit…” 

“Don’t,” he said, frowning up at the plumbing. “Got me outta my house… can you hand me the wrench that’s in the lower part of the tool kit, the adjustable one?” 

He heard you slide off the counter to the floor and rifle through his tools before handing him the wrench, your fingertips brushing his when you did. His heart sped up. Fuck this was stupid. 

You settled in on the floor near him, near enough that he’d feel your leg brush his when he adjusted while he worked. You asked him about his favorite band and he asked you about yours. About favorite foods. About the one place on Earth you’d go if money and time were no object. 

“Alright, think I’ve got it,” he said. “Do me a favor, turn the water on…” 

“You sure?” You asked, a frown in your voice. “Don’t you want to sit up first?” 

“I’m confident,” he smiled a little. 

“Alright, turning it on now.” 

And his confidence was correct. 

For a minute. 

And then it was like the floodgates opened and Joel was suddenly soaked. 

“Cut it!” 

You scrambled to obey as he got out from under the sink, dripping wet, shirt soaked. 

“Shit,” he looked down at himself. 

“I am so sorry!” Your hands were over your mouth, eyes wide. “One minute, let me grab you a towel…” 

You ran down the hall and came back with a small pile of towels handing them to him one by one. He started with himself and then put towels down below the sink. 

“I’m so sorry, Joel,” your eyes were so wide and earnest. 

“Not your fault,” he said, getting up, feeling like more than a bit of an idiot. “Your maintenance people just fucked something up big time…” 

“I have a washer and dryer,” you said quickly. “Let me wash that for you…” 

“Thanks,” he said and he peeled off the wet shirt and handed it to you. “Appreciate it…” 

He was so busy trying not to look at you that he hadn’t realized that you were staring at him, looking up him slowly, your lower lip in your teeth. Like you were interested in him, too. Like you were trying to keep your hands to yourself, too. 

Your eyes met his. This was stupid, this was very very stupid. You were standing close to him, so fucking close to him. 

“Joel,” you breathed. 

He was kissing you before he could talk himself out of it. 

*** 

You weren’t sure if he kissed you or you kissed him but you didn’t really care because fuck, he was touching you. Your arms went around his neck and his hands went to your hips, pulling your body flush against his as he all but devoured you. 

Like he’d done nothing but think of this since the night before, too. 

You were up for an hour after you got home, cursing your best friend for having such a hot dad and trying to not think about what would have happened if you’d dragged him into your apartment when he dropped you off as you ran your vibrator over your needy clit. 

Because how could you face Sarah if you’d fucked yourself to the thought of her dad? 

But you weren’t worrying about that now. 

Instead, you were leading Joel blindly through your apartment, to your bedroom. Your fingers tangled in his hair - wet from the explosive leak in your sink - as you kissed him. You pulled him against you as you sat back on your bed, crawling back toward the middle of it and tugging him along with you so he was hovering over you. 

“You sure…” he began but you nodded so fast that he didn’t even finish asking, just smiling for a second before kissing you again. 

His tongue was insistent inside your mouth, like he was trying to reach every part of you, but you liked it. The hot, aching need gathering in you liked it, liked that he was demanding and hungry for you to the point that, when his tongue slid back behind his own teeth it’s because he wanted to bite your lip with a growl. 

You squirmed out of the soft wrap that was covering your arms and he pulled at your tank top, peeling it away from you and leaving you in just your lacy bralette you liked to wear before you really got dressed for the day. His hand cupped your breast, palm brushing your firm nipple, and you moaned. Joel slipped his hand into the lace and touched the bare skin below and you involuntarily thrust your hips up toward him. He smiled against your mouth at that. 

“So eager,” he said, teasing. 

“We both have way too much on,” you panted against him. 

“Let me help you with that,” he slid his fingers below the band of the bralette and tugged it up and over your head, leaving you naked from the waist up. “Jesus Christ…” 

“What?” You asked, breathless. 

“And I thought you were gorgeous before,” his eyes went over you slowly, tracing the edges of you. “Fucking hell…” 

You smiled and arched into kissing him again, fumbling with the button and zipper on his jeans as you did. When you got his pants open, you slipped your hand inside his underwear, finding his thick, hard cock and stroking him. It was gentle at first, getting a feel for him and fuck he was hard as steel below your touch. He was also easily the biggest cock you’d ever held, so thick and long you knew you were going to be feeling him for hours after you were done. 

Not that you minded. You wanted nothing more than to walk around with a reminder of him inside you for a while. 

Joel’s hands ran over you until he reached your pants and underwear. He pulled them off together, pausing just before your panties would be so far down that they would expose your dripping, aching slit. He pulled his lips from you. 

“This really what you want?” He asked quietly, his eyes searching yours. 

“I’ve been wanting this since last night,” you smiled a little at him. 

“Fuck, I was hopin’ you’d say that.” 

He pulled what remained of your clothes off and cast it aside, nudging you down so you were flat on the bed. He ran his finger over your slit, dipping into you just enough to make your entrance try to grip him but not enough that it gave your body something to hold. You moaned. 

“Don’t worry, beautiful,” he pressed his finger against your clit, rubbing in circles, making you moan. “Gonna take real good care of you…” 

He trailed his finger back down and sank it into you as his thumb pressed against your clit, making your body go tight around him. You rocked your hips against him and arched your back and you heard the smile in his voice as your hands flew to your comforter, knotting in the fabric there. 

“There you go,” he said softly, kissing over your jaw to your throat, nipping and sucking you as he went. “Fuck you’re tight, need you to relax and come for me so I can get inside you…” 

He added another finger, hooking them up into you, pressing into your inner walls and making you get tense and tight before you came hard around him, pussy throbbing so hard it almost hurt. 

“You’re gonna feel so goddamn good,” he groaned as he slid his fingers from you. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear and pulled them down with his jeans before he stroked himself, his fingers still slick with you as he did. 

“One sec,” you managed to find your voice and you stretched back to reach into your nightstand and grabbed a box of condoms. You needed to open it and pull one foil packet apart from the rest. “Sorry, haven’t needed one of these in a bit…” 

“Won’t hear me arguin’,” he half smiled at you. Fuck, that fucking dimple. You opened the condom and slid it on his tip, watching his chest heave as you did. You looked up at him through your eyelashes as you took his covered tip in your mouth, wrapping your lips around him and using them to unroll the condom the rest of the way onto his thick, hard length. “Fuck, beautiful, tryin’ to rush me through this?” 

You just sucked him for a moment, his head lodged at the back of your throat as you started to work his shaft with your mouth. His hand flew to your head, fingers twisting in your hair, as you went. He moaned as your tongue pressed against the underside of him before curling around his shaft. His grip on your hair tightened and you picked up the pace, all but choking yourself on his cock, not able to help yourself, until he pulled you back off him sharply, abruptly. 

“Really don’t want things to be over that fast,” he panted, tilting his head back toward the ceiling for a moment. “Fucking hell you’re good at that…” 

You smirked a little and he pushed you back down onto the bed before lining his cock up with your entrance. He paused and you moaned, rocking your hips against him, your whole body feeling like a spring that was coiled a bit too tight. His hands splayed wide over your thighs for a moment before sliding over your stomach, your breasts, back down again. 

“Still want this?” He asked, voice needy. 

“Want you,” you panted, nodding. “Need you, need you inside me…” 

“Good,” he said, his large hands spread on your thighs, holding you open for him, watching where he was entering you as his cock split you open. He moaned, panting for breath. “Fuck, gonna be addicted to you, just fuckin’ know it…” 

You pressed your hips up into him as he filled you totally, collapsing onto you as his hips met yours. He stilled in you, giving you a moment to adjust to the delicious stretch of him inside you. He was big enough that - if you hadn’t been so desperate for him, if he hadn’t already made you come once - you were sure that it would feel like he was breaking you in two. Like this, though, it was all pleasure with a hint of pain, just enough to make you feel so fucking full you thought you might burst with it. 

He started slowly but forcefully, dragging his cock back so only his head was inside you, his pace so slow that you felt his head on every ridge inside you. But he thrust himself back into you hard, like he couldn’t bear not feeling you again immediately, like being without you was almost painful. 

But he increased his pace, thrusting himself deep into you and pulling back before changing again, more rocking his hips down into you than fully thrusting into you. It meant he kept almost constant pressure on your clit, that the head of him was all but permanently against the spot inside that you immediately sought out whenever you used your vibrator. Your back arched into him and your pussy was so tight around him you were certain you couldn’t get any more wanting. 

“Fuck, need to feel you come while I’m inside you,” he managed, sliding his arms below you to press your bare chest against him. “Please, Beautiful, fuck, please come for me…” 

“Joel!” You cried out his name as you came around him and he fucked into you for another moment before you felt him throb inside as he spilled into the condom. 

He collapsed on top of you, panting for breath and you ran your hands over his broad back. After a minute, he kissed you gently and pulled himself from your wrung out body and lying beside you. 

“So,” he was still short of breath. “Got anythin’ around here I can come by and fix tomorrow?” 

You laughed a little, trying not to think of the fact that you’d just fucked your best friend’s dad. Trying not to think of the fact that there was no way this could be a one time thing. 

“Oh, I’m sure I can think of something,” you said. “I’m sure I can think of a lot of things.” 

[yamujiburo]

I'm so thankful for you sharing the importance of protecting minors from sexual content. My parents and I didn't have much knowledge back then and I was exposed to this kind of stuff too early. I developed bad habits. I somehow deceived my family into trusting me way too much and, when I saw I had lost control and I asked for help, I saw my family was also hurt and they spent a lot on therapy and my anxiety medication. I have forgiven them for not knowing back them. But I still haven't forgiven myself for getting them through all that stuff. It's important to understand how much we need to protect minors from sexual content. Family members and artists, please pay attention to the content young audience is exposed to.

Of course! I can relate a lot to this. My parents were really good at monitoring what I was doing online for a while but they started trusting me more and I unfortunately started seeing a lot of stuff I shouldn't have but would keep it secret. Gonna talk about my experience a lil bit under the cut just bc I've been reflecting on it a lot recently (tw for grooming)

I gained a following of around 25K on deviantart by the time I was around 15/16. It was in the worst fandom too (mlp). I'd have a lot of much older men talking to me, drawing/writing nsfw of my characters who were underaged (they'd draw nsfw of myself and my sonas as well). It was so normalized for me and I didn't see anything wrong with it at the time.

I'd shipped Spike and Rarity at the time (very much do not anymore) and adult men would use that ship as a basis for trying to talk to me or get in a relationship. "We're just like Sparity! You're young but you're very mature for your age, so it's fine." I remember one guy trying REALLY hard to try and get me to move in with him. I was pretty creeped out then, but like holy shit that's SUPER creepy and I'm fortunate that he didn't keep trying after I gave him a hard "no".

It bled into my real life a bit when I met a 22 y/o man who asked me out when I was just 16 just turning 17. Luckily the relationship was NOT long lasting (I think he realized that I'm a very boring person LMAO) but I think about how I thought that that was a perfectly normal. I'd date go on to date people who were probably too old for me.

Also around when I was 16/17, people started shipping me with another artist in the fandom who was several years older than I was (side note: nothing wrong with an age gap! but it's very not okay when there's "waiting" for someone to be of legal age involved). I did end up dating said artist after I turned 18 and it was fine, I wasn't hurt or anything but I did find weird that we were shipped when I was still a teenager looking back (there was also nsfw drawn of us together before/when we were dating)

I just had such a warped sense of reality for a long because of this shit. I'm glad there's more conversations about this stuff and it's more known that adults should have little to no personal interaction with kids on the internet and vice versa. There's way too many stories of kids getting taken advantage of in fandom spaces. I think I got off fairly lucky all things considered. But bottom line YES kids need to be protected online and their exposure to sexual content/adult spaces should be limited or monitored. It's also really tough though because not all kids have adults in their real life that they can trust or go to to ask questions about sex so they seek solace in adults online and it's just a constant cycle.

I'm honestly unsure of what to do about that and I don't have all the answers but I ultimately just don't want kids online to end up in similar positions I was in when I was younger. I just do my best

[aldruiel-scribbles]

Can we talk about how they aged Addam and Alyn Velaryon to the point that it will eventually become very fucked up? (Because it shows the predatory behavior of the show runners imo)

Addam (the dragon rider) was the eldest, not the youngest like in the show, and he was of the same age as Jacaerys Velaryon (114 AC). And his brother Alyn was a year younger than him (115 AC). Which means that at the start of the Dance in 129 AC Addam was 15 and Alyn 14. The problem is that the show runners decided to make them bastards of Corlys so they aged them up, A LOT.

Alyn will marry Baela, can you see where I'm going with this?

Alyn survives the dance, gets legitimazed and becomes the next Lord of Driftmark. Originally because of their age, Addam and Alyn, were believed to be bastards of Laenor and it was basically sort of confirmed (in the eyes of the people and maesters) when Addam claimed a dragon; but the were still rumors that Corlys was the father instead.

Alyn is now a man in his 30s, instead of a boy of 14, who will eventually marry a girl of 13. Like what the fuck? What was the need to make a grown ass man marry a girl? While Baela in this show seems a bit older she will still be a minor by the end of the DoD. That was a conscious choice, why add predatory behavior in a couple where there was none? Alyn and Addam could still be children of Corlys, even if they were younger!

It's not even the first time that they worsened an age gap, pushing this gross behavior towards the viewers. The best example is Viserys and Alicent, who in the book were 28 and 18 respectively (still too much although less horrible), but in the show it was a man in his 40s marrying a minor of 14. And yes, you could say that Westeros doesn't have the same concept of minors as we do so it's normal for them, but do you know who does have it? The fucking show runners! They continuously and willingly make this changes and think it's okay. Why make content about little girls being forced to have sex with old men? For once, none of these weird ass things were in the book and they decided they were going to add it.

Again, what the fuck?

[izzylovesmatt]

be mine, playboy

bsf!chris x bsf!reader

⚠️warnings ⚠️ suggestive content, 18+, Dont read if you are a minor

dividers by @bernardsbendystraws

summary- none get to reading 🥰

it was a cold dark winter night, The snow was falling from above into the water where me, chris, and a few of our closest friends sit comfortably in the hot tub drinking and talking ending the Christmas party with some fun not a single care in the world. Larray is the first to break the silence, "okay guyss let's play truth or dareee we will go around the whole hot tub." Everyone collectively agrees, almost everyone had gone it was just me and Chris who havent been asked. "Okay Chris if you had to choose one person in this hot tub to fuck who would it be?" Nate asks him giggling while he speaks. "Why does my dare have to be weird everyone else's was easy." Chris says throwing his hands up then taking a sip of the drink in his hand but before he does he speaks up"Y/n" he answered his dare, "oooo okay now it's y/ns turn to answer." Larray says looking at me to which I'm sat between the two brothers Matt and Chris. "Okay y/n we saved the best for last it seems." Nick says making everyone in the hot tub laugh. "Truth. or. dare" Nick says in a dramatic tone "dare." I say taking a big sip of the drink in my hand finishing it then tossing it over to the side "okay we have a feisty one over here" Nick says jokingly "I dare you to sit on the most sexiest persons lap for the rest of the night" he says with a shit eating grin on his face knowing exactly who i will choose,im a little nervous to sit on Chris's lap i don't know where it will lead later tonight. As i slowly pick myself up with my hands and lower myself onto Chris i feel his eyes burning into my head as I put all my weight on him.

Chris's pov

The night continues to go on but I feel frozen i feel like I can't move and if I do she will feel my dick rock hard right under her with everyone right there to see the embarrassment on my face. What also doesn't help is she is in the tiniest pink bikini showing all of her curves and her plump ass that j cannot ignore, the water moving from how much people are in the hot tub and making her rock back and forth right where I need her the most. I try not to touch her body but I can't help myself, my hands start to wander to her hips squeezing them and holding her down hoping to feel any kind of relief. 15 minutes later everyone from the hot tub are gone, they went inside all drunk and called it a night. However my night was just beginning. End of Chris's pov

I can feel the alcohol coursing through my veins controlling my every move, i waited for everyone to leave then i flip around straddling Chris and putting my arms around his neck. Starring into his blue eyes that are centimeters away from mine making me feel like I'm floating, also making his stare go straight down to my core. I slowly start to grind down on him as I speak feeling his hard cock right through his swim suit "what are you thinking about Chris" as I say his name a small whimper leaves his mouth "hmm?" I say trying to get him to answer the simple question I asked, but before he goes to speak he stops himself and leans in closer so close I can feel his breathing on my face every little feature on his face turning me on more he's so beautiful. Suddenly Chris closes the gap between us and we're into a deep slow and sweet kiss but that sweet kiss turns into something more then that something darker, Chris grabs my ass and starts to grope it me making me grind even harder onto him. "Lets go inside" I say breaking the kiss for one second then kissing him again "no no I need you now." he says slamming you back onto him, as he does this you let out a small whimper at the feeling of his dick touching your wet clit "mm guess your not getting anything tonight since you're being annoying" i say giving him a kiss on the cheek and climbing out of the hot tub. I can feel chris's eyes burning into the back of me as i walk back into the house and go into the bathroom to take a shower. To be continued

part 2????!

not very christmasy but it's snowing so it counts 😀

[userpedros]

personal stash || joel miller

pairing: Joel x female!reader

summary: Joel decides after patrol it'd be a good idea to steal from Ellie's stash and things get a lil heated.

word count: 6k+

authors note: I wrote this in pretty much one go, so it is what it is. has not been beta read, barely proofread - mostly skimmed. also, Joel isn't as much of a hardass in this because he deserves a break okay. my mans gotta be tired from always being so angry.

warnings & content : 18+. Incredibly mature themes. Mentions and use of marijuana. established friendship. age gap (15+ years (honestly probably more like 20 but)), smut, fingering, unprotected p in v, oral - fem receiving, creampie-ish, slight cum eating, slight choking. pet names (dirty and nice!) (lemme know if i missed anything!)

“Are you sure she’s not going to notice, Joel? She’s your daughter, she’s pretty observant.” You looked over at Joel, giving him the side eye as he brought the lighter up to the end of the joint. You placed it between your lips as he lit the end, the tip illuminating a bright red before you inhaled, the end of the joint finalizing into a smokeable piece. You inhaled as Joel watched you, taking a deep breath in, holding it, and letting it out. The smoke began to curl and fill the air as Joel began to answer your question.

“’ M positive. Do y'think she’d ever suspect me? Nah. I reckon she'll suspect you.” He winked as he took the joint from your fingers, his large ones making the joint look minuscule between them. He inhaled, his eyebrows furrowing as he closed his eyes, and leaned his head back. As he breathed the thick smoke out, he sat back up, staring straight into your soul.

His salt and pepper brown hair tousled, strands going about every which way. His brown eyes looked you up and down as you took your turn with the spliff.

“Why ever would she suspect me?” Your eyebrows rose as you inhaled, and watched him watch you. “I don’t live with her.” You exhaled on the last part, watching his every move as he scooted a bit closer to you.

“I live with her but I’m not the one she usually smokes with on patrol, sweetheart.” He cocks an eyebrow and smirks as your face falls.

Your high was already beginning to settle in. You drank his words in as you realized that he paid a little more attention to you than you had originally thought. The couch in his living room began to swallow you whole as you began to drift into thought from his statement.

You were a lot younger than Joel. He was in his early fifties and well, you were a little far off from there. You’d just moved to Jackson, stumbling upon it with a group you’d been with, when you decided to stay and they decided not to. You’d made a lot of friends, weirdly enough, his surrogate daughter being one of them. Her and Dina had become like family to you, and you’d been like family to them. You’d become close enough to them that you’d obviously been spending time with Ellie’s makeshift father after your patrols together.

You had to admit, the way that Joel talked, with that Texan accent, absolutely melted you. The way he cared for Ellie, made you absolutely gooey inside. There was so much about him to like, that you couldn’t decide what you didn’t like. Well maybe besides his absolutely shit attitude sometimes but that had really grown on you too.

You knew it was probably a bit weird to be falling for your good friend’s dad, maybe to Ellie, but it had honestly started to happen before you’d even really become friends with her. But you couldn’t think about that right now because well, you were already spacing out and Joel was definitely onto you.

“You alright there?” He waved a large hand in your face as you came back to Earth. You shook your head as you looked back into his brown eyes once more before speaking.

“I’m just peachy, Joel. Just peachy.” You beamed a great big smile, or what you thought was great while he snickered at you. He coughed into his hand to hide his laughter. “What are you laughing at Miller?”

You frowned a little as you grabbed the joint from his hand, taking another few hits before handing it back.

“Ellie was right. You can't handle your weed well.” He shook his head as he peeled off his tan jacket and leaned back into the sofa. You craned your head to the side as you scoffed, dramatically jumping to sit sideways so you could look him in the eye.

As you sat cross-legged next to him, he lifted his eyebrow again and took the joint from your small fingertips. He had to lean a little to get to it, and his hand brushed against yours as he removed the burning flower from your fingers, stubbing it out in the ashtray in front of you both on the coffee table.

The brush of your skin against his sent a burning sensation throughout your body. He seemed to notice it too, never taking his eyes off yours as he grabbed onto your leg and scooted you closer to him. The area on your leg he had just been touching still seared after he removed his hand.

“I may not be able to handle my weed well, Miller, but hey, tryin’ counts for somethin’ right?” You leaned your head against the couch, watching his every move as your knee brushed against his leg.

You let it sit there for a second as he leaned his head back against the cushions and closed his eyes. He mumbled something under his breath, which you ignored as you closed your eyes. You both sat like that for a few minutes, your highs beginning to take over you both.

You and Joel had recently started to become close as you’d been with Ellie. You started taking over some patrol shifts for her whenever she wanted to spend time with Dina, and she’d taken some for you. She’d also known that you had a slight crush on Joel so she liked to call it a bit of charity that she’d extended. But she’d never tell you that she was moving patrol shifts around on purpose. She liked how you looked at Joel. He deserved someone that was compassionate, caring, and able to stand up to him when need be. You were also incredibly gorgeous so that didn’t hurt.

You’d really started to get a handle on how to talk to Joel, and he had started to learn how to talk to you. He knew, hell, everyone knew that you’d had a crush on him. It wasn’t just Ellie. It didn’t help that your face was totally readable, every emotion that you ever felt splayed across your face, even when you were trying to be discrete.

You came back to Earth a few minutes after you both had leaned your heads into the couch. The weed had been a nice way to relax after a long night of patrol. Joel had the bright idea to come back to his place and take some from Ellie’s stash, claiming that it was okay because he’d given up so many Chef Boyardee cans to her on the road so many years ago, it was the least she could do for her dear old dad.

Of course, you laughed when he said that. Rolling your eyes and blushing at the way he smiled when he talked about Ellie. The way he cared for her light a fire in you that you didn’t know existed. To see how much he’d given for the ones he loved was an attractive quality. Loyalty was important to you, especially in the world you were in now.

Joel patted you on the leg, bringing you back to reality as you lazily picked your head up to look at him.

“You alright there, lightweight?” Joel laughed as he scanned your face, taking in how happy you looked in the moment you were in. Your smile was bright and wide, something he’d grown used to in the past few months.

“’M great.” You went to speak again but a loud crash sent both of your heads whirling towards the direction the noise came from.

Of course. It was the cat Ellie had insisted Joel rescue from the cold Wyoming nights that had the ground blanketed in snow. He’d told her it was a waste of time, the kitten was completely feral but Ellie brought it home anyway, and of course Joel was unable to say no to her.

The bright orange cat mewled as he knocked over yet another small stack of books, looking back towards Joel as if to say, ‘look at what I just did.’

Joel groaned as he watched the cat knock off a small candle, going to get up to scare off the feline.

“Leave him alone. He just wants your attention. He knows you hate him so he just does this to piss you off.” You shrugged, grabbing Joel’s arm and pulling him back onto the couch.

“Y'see, I hate that damn cat. He’s always breakin’ shit and then I'm havin' to clean it up. Should’ve never let Ellie bring him home.” He groaned as he looked over at you, a smile breaking across his face as you both heard another crash from the dining area.

You both cracked up as the cat really began to howl, trying to steal the show and attention, which it seemed he was successful at.

You realized your hand was still on Joel’s arm, and you went to remove it but you decided to leave it there as you spoke. You squeezed his arm as your words spilled out of your mouth. “You let her keep it cause you’re a softie Miller.” His eyes went wide as you continued, the word vomit now unable to stop as your high took over. “But that’s not a bad thing, it’s actually really attractive how much you care for-.”

That’s when he cut you off. His hand flew to your mouth as he leaned over you. His eyebrows were scrunched together again, in his signature stare that he usually wore when he tried to close himself off.

“I’m gonna stop you right there, peach, I’m not a softie.” He leaned back as his skin burned into yours. He finally removed his hand, your mouth still feeling like it was on fire. His scent was assaulting your nostrils from being so close to him. Everything smelled like thick amber and pine.

It seemed that he had chosen to ignore the second thing you’d said, which you were grateful for, considering you had definitely not been thinking when it slipped out.

You snorted as you finally realized what he’d just said. “Okay, sure. If you’re not a softie, then I must really need glasses, my vison must be incredibly foggy.” You laughed as he continued to look irritated.

“You do have foggy vision, sweets. That’s why I do most of the work when we’re on patrol.” He rolled his eyes as he continued, “Hard for you to see what’s out there in plain sight when you’re too busy starin’ at me the whole time.”

With his last sentence, he began to smirk as your eyes grew wide. Well, can’t say you didn’t walk yourself right into that one.

You watched as his brown eyes watched you. It was now a game of who was going to talk first. Was his thick Texan accent going to be the first sound in the room or was it going to be your quiet voice?

Luckily for you, it was the stupid cat again. The reason this whole conversation had taken a turn. He jumped right into your lap and nuzzled into your hand as Joel continued to watch you. You both continued to stare directly into each other’s eyes as the feline called for attention in your lap.

After a few seconds of unrequited feelings on your end, the cat took off, leaving you both sitting there, still staring, neither of you saying a word. The smoke still lightly hung in the air; the lamp next to you illuminating the small space. The air was thick with tension and you decided it was time to speak. It didn’t seem that Joel was going to be the next one to talk as he carefully watched you, his eyebrows reaching the top of his forehead.

Your voice was barely a squeak as you finally spoke. “You mean to tell me you’ve noticed the whole time?” You cringed, breaking eye contact as you looked down at the worn, brown couch. “You really just let me stare at you the whole time and never said or did anything.”

You whistled as you began to get your bearings and deciding maybe it was time to go. The tension in the air was awkward for you and uncomfortable. It was finally noticeable to you now how obvious your small crush had been and well, you were a little embarrassed. That meant he didn’t feel the same way, if he’d known the whole damn time and never done a single thing.

“Well, I guess I should get going, it’s getting kind of late. Not to mention I’m completely embarrassed now.” You went to stand up, not moving your eyes to his when he gripped onto your leg.

“Didn’t ever say anything to you darlin’ 'cause I was a bit worried where it might go if I did.”

With his words, your eyes shot back to his once more. The weed took control, your confidence soaring as you sat back onto the couch. It was now or never and you were going for now.

“Let’s pretend you’re not worried, where would it go?” You grabbed his hand, latching onto that small piece of courage you had and laced your fingers with his. He gripped onto your hand as you set your joined palms in your lap. “I’m curious.”

You watched as he stared down at where your hands were joined, the tension in the air changing to something else, thicker, desire seeping over every pore in your body. Joel’s body language began to mirror yours as his eyes began to fill with something darker, his pupils dilating as he looked back to you.

“It might go a lil’ somethin’ like this.” With that, he leaned forward and crashed his lips to yours, instantly sealing the deal, that your relationship with him would be forever changed. You two would never be able to turn back now. Especially not when you kissed him back and pulled his bottom lip through your teeth, earning a groan from Joel.

He pulled back instantly, a pang of sadness filling you as he did. You already missed the feeling of him on your lips, it was an instant connection you’d never felt with anyone before, and it all happened within a single kiss and a split second.

“’M not sure we should be doin’ this. 'S not a good idea.” He shook his head as he started to stand up, your hand still in his. You refused to let go as you looked at him bewildered. You nodded for him to sit back down and words spilled out of your mouth again.

“You can’t just kiss me like that and then get up to go, telling me it’s a bad idea without even telling me why.” You shook your head as he continued to stand, his hand still in yours, watching your every move. His long-sleeved green flannel looked worn and tight against his arms, a small hole in his bicep now becoming your focal point. The embarrassment overshadows the fleeting confidence you just had.

His face became hard as he removed his hand from yours, placing it in his pocket. Your hand grew cold instantly from the lack of heat, falling into your lap. Sadness sank deep into the pit of your stomach. You weren’t sure how the night had gotten turned around like this but you just wanted to go back to how it had started. You wanted to go back to just being a young idiot who pined after a man old enough to be her father. It was simple and easy to do, but now you were stuck somewhere you didn’t know if you’d be able to pull yourself and Joel out of.

“I’m not good enough for you and you’re too young for me.” He turned around, walked over to where the cat had knocked things over, and picked them up. You watched the whole time, waiting for him to continue because surely, he had much better reasons than those.

But the other reasons never came out of his mouth. You watched as Joel began to build his walls up again. The same ones you had worked so incredibly hard to tear down.

You took a deep breath in as you decided you weren’t going to let this be it. You were done pining. You were either going to go home tonight and know that there would never be a chance in hell for you to be any sort of anything with Joel, or you were going to go home tonight knowing that something good was going to come out of this. Something had too.

You stood up and made your way over to where he was leaning against the dining room table.

“I know you’re not old enough to be losin’ your fuckin’ mind, Joel, because those are the lamest excuses I’ve ever fuckin’ heard.” You crossed your arms as you watched his back straighten through the worn flannel. His knees locked in his worn jeans that you loved so much.

“We live in a world where there’s goddamn mushrooms controlling and eating people. I don’t think it matters how old you are in a world like this.” You shook your head as he turned slowly, his gaze sweeping over to you. “I could give less than a single shit if you think you’re good enough for me. If I think you are, why question it? We’re in the fucking apocalypse for Christ's Sake! I don’t think there’s a single person left who is inherently good.”

You let out the long breath you’d been keeping in, not noticing how loud your voice had risen as you waited for him to speak. He had turned around and he was just staring at you now, leaning up against the dining room table, staring you down.  He stood there for a few minutes, contemplating his next move before finally standing up and walking over to you, his tall figure towering over you.

“Good god, you’ve got a mouth on you.” He grabbed your hip with one hand as he tugged you into him. “You done now or are you goin’ t’ yell at me some more, sweetheart?”

You looked up at him, pulling yourself together, and taking a deep breath before speaking. “I think I’m done now.” You linked your arms around his waist as you watched him. You guessed that your tiny little rant had changed his mind. You weren’t going to question it.

“Wise choice, darlin'.’” And with that, he crashed his lips onto yours, taking you completely off guard.

Your lips melded into his as you two began to basically swallow each other whole. You didn’t know where either of you began as he flipped you around to where he was. He walked you backward, still keeping his mouth on yours, biting down on your lower lip as you hit the edge of the dining table behind you.

He lifted you onto the table in one swift motion, earning a grunt from you as your bottom hit the wood beneath you.

You pulled away for a second to say, “Not bad lifting skills for such an ‘old man’.” You giggled as you watched his gaze harden as he looked down at you. He pulled your hips into his, his growing erection visible as it strained beneath his jeans.

“I thought you said you were done talkin’? Do I need to shut you up again?” His fingertips pressed into your hips as his hold on you hardened.

“I think you might hav-“ He cut you off mid-sentence, placing his mouth on yours once more.

He pulled back slightly to say one last thing before his tongue delved back into your mouth.

“We only have so much time before Ellie gets home from hangin’ out with Dina. So do me a favor pretty girl, cut the chit-chat.” He lifted his hand, bringing it to your chin, grabbing it harshly as he angled your head up more. “I still have yet to have my midnight snack. I get real hungry after I smoke.”

You shivered with his words as they left his mouth.

"You sure you wanna do this on your dining table, Joel?" You whispered, the words barely leaving your mouth. They hung like ghosts in the air as you waited for his response.

"Dinin' table is where you're meant to eat, ain't it?" He looked down at you with an eyebrow cocked. His words hung proudly in the air. You both eagerly closed the distance between you two once more, your mouths melding together once again as if they belonged together. You were sure nothing would ever feel like this again, the feeling of his lips on yours.

You grabbed ahold of his shirt and pulled him into you more, leaning back with every pull into him, until your back hit the cool wooden surface of the table. As it did, you groaned, Joel collapsing on top of you.

He leaned back a little, pulling his mouth from yours as he eyed the long sleeve shirt you had on.

“Hope you’re not too attached to this.” He grunted as he grabbed the neck of the fabric. His knuckles rapped along your skin as he tore the material down the middle, opening you wide to his gaze. He reached his hand into the back of the torn fabric and unhooked your bra, ripping the fabric from your body and tossing it behind him into the living room somewhere. You both went wide-eyed as you heard the clasp of your bra hit the lamp, toppling the feeble piece of furniture over.

“Oops.” Was all you managed to get out as you pulled him back to you. His lips went straight to your chest, taking one hardened pink peak into his mouth, sending your head flying back, hitting the hard wood. You didn’t even care about how bad that had hurt as he nipped and sucked. You only cared about how good it felt to have Joel’s mouth on you.

You let out a string of curse words as he pulled your nipple between his teeth, looking up at you. He than began to kiss his way down to your navel, stopping just above your pant line.

He unbuckled your pants, his lips hovering over your stomach. As you helped him shimmy yourself out of your jeans, they fell onto the floor with a smack.

He leaned down, kneeling before you as he ran a finger over your slit through your panties.

“They don’t sell things like this in Jackson, where’d these come from pretty girl?” His accent was thick as he continued running his finger over you through the lacey material of your thong.

“I’d have to kill you if I told you.” You breathed out. He smirked as he tore them down as your words left your mouth. Your slick heat glistened under the only light left in the room, the small lamp that illuminated the dining room.

In all reality, you’d just stolen the pair from an abandoned Victoria’s Secret before you’d arrived in Jackson. You never really wore them but you were glad you’d decided to take a chance tonight.

He whistled as he stared directly into your heat, rocking back on his knees a little. “Look at how ready y'are for me already. Needy little thing.”

You whined, smacking him on the shoulder, barely able to reach. “Joel.” Your breath was incredibly labored as you watched him trace over your slit once more. He traced back down, entering one finger into your pussy.

He watched you as he tunneled his finger in and out of you, curling it to hit your sensitive spot each time, earning moans from you with each stroke.

You were getting louder as he continued to stroke his finger in and out of you, the wet sounds coming from you filling the room along with your moans.

He added a second finger, mumbling a string of curse words to himself. You dared yourself to look down at him and it was the best sight you’d ever seen. He was on his knees directly in front of your aching pussy, staring down at it like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

His fingers that were driving in and out of you were slick and glistening. As soon as he saw you staring down at him, he did something even better than what he was doing at the current moment. He leaned up and attached his mouth directly to your swollen clit and began to take turns sucking and licking.

"'S sweet for me, don't think it gets much better than this." His breath was hot on you, making it impossible to breath, only adding to the pleasure.

You couldn’t think straight, you closed your eyes and let your head hit the table once more, crying out as Joel continued to go to town on you.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Wanna hear you.” Joel whispered into your pussy as his fingers sped up, scissoring in and out of you.

“I’m pretty sure the whole town can fuckin’ hear me Joel, no need to worry.” You whined out, grabbing onto the sides of the table your knuckles turning white.

He continued for another minute, tantalizing your very near and pending orgasm before he abruptly stopped. Of course he stopped right when you couldn’t stop muttering his name. He knew you were close and It didn’t seem as though he was going to let you have it.

“Why’d you stop?” You whined out once more as you started to sit up, but were pushed down with Joel’s hand that wasn’t covered in you.

“Don’t need that bad attitude, sweet girl. Need ya to be loud for me. Want the whole neighborhood to hear what I’m doing to you.” He chuckled as he moved his glistening hand up and moved it to right in front of your mouth. “Now open wide, want you to taste how sweet you are for me.”

His fingers nudged at your mouth, you took them in, swallowing and sucking your residue off of him, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time.

“'S my good girl,” Joel muttered as he continued to watch you.

You swirled your tongue around his fingers one last time tasting your tangy residue and let his fingers go with a pop.

He leaned back and started to unbutton his shirt, beginning to pull it off.

“Oh that’s right Miller, give me a strip tease.” You whopped as he glared at you, stopping what he was doing.

“You’re annoying, you know that?” He huffed as he stared you down.

You giggled as he started to take his clothes off again, shedding the plaid and yanking his pants down. It was truly a sight to see and you were so grateful for the show.  You watched with anticipation, biting your bottom lip as he kicked off his pants and threw them behind him. He stalked over to you before yanking you to him without warning. You hadn’t even really had time to admire how incredibly thick he was. As you slid towards him, your ass hanging off the table as your groin smacked into his.

“You’ve got such a sweet little pussy darlin, can’t imagine how good she’s gonna feel if she tasted that great.” He grunted as you sat up on your elbows to be closer to him.

He leaned back down, taking your mouth in his once more. One of his hands snaked around and grabbed your neck, his hand now your own personal necklace. He squeezed lightly and you moaned into the kiss. He snapped his hips into you when the sound escaped your throat.

His stiff erection was now pressed into your hot, dripping center. The feeling of his thick cock strained against you was sending you into a frenzy. You broke the kiss as you leaned back as much as his hand on your throat would allow.

You looked down at where your hips met and moaned again, the sight was so incredibly hot to you, you didn’t know if you would be able to take it when he finally pushed himself inside of you.

“Admirin’ the view, you filthy little thing?” He moved his free hand to grip his cock, stepping back slightly.

He gripped his length and smacked it against your clit, sending curse words out of your lips and his. He dragged his thick length down your slit and back up again, collecting your juices on his tip. He smacked your clit once more, sending your head snapping back.

It was all too much, the feeling of his hand on your neck, his thick dick hitting your sensitive bud. You knew he wanted you to beg. Hell, the man made you beg for him to do the stupidest shit whenever you were on patrol together. You didn’t know if you should appease him or wait for him to spell it out for you. Luckily you didn’t have to because Joel seemed to be impatient enough this time.

With one final smack and a gasp from both of your lips, he ran his cock down your slit one last time before positioning it at your entrance. He looked from where you two were about to join and into your eyes.

“Y'ready? Y'sure about this? We’ll never be able to go back to how it was after this darlin’.” He huffed out as he waited for your answer. "Gonna have t'have this pussy every time we're on patrol now."

“’M sure, Joel. I’ve been waitin’ for this for a while. Need your thick cock, baby.” You whined once more as he started to push himself in.

“Oh god, don’t think I’ve ever wanted to hear somethin’ more darlin.'” And with that he pushed himself completely in, bottoming out inside of you. “Good lord, you are something else. So fuckin’ tight.” He gritted through his teeth as he pushed out and back into you.

You both watched where the two of you were joined, enjoying the view as he continued to pump himself in and out of you at a slow speed. It was so incredibly hot to you. His thick length tunneling in and out of you, looking like it belonged there. It stretched you out completely, filling you in a way you didn’t know was possible. You were pretty sure you could die happy right now with Joel Miller’s cock stuffing you full.

“Holy fuck Joel. You’re so big.” With that you looked back up at him, your eyes completely wide as he continued to watch himself. You watched as he brought one of his hands around and grabbed your right leg and hoisted it over his shoulder.

He hit a completely new spot with this position, getting a deeper and better spot with each thrust.

"And you're so incredibly tight, can't believe I waited this long t'have you."

He brought his other hand around to your front, his calloused thumb ghosting over your clit. His rough pad began to rub small circles, causing your head to snap back once more.

You kept yourself balanced on your elbows and brought your head back up, looking at him as he looked up at you.

“Ain’t nothin’ ever felt this good before wrapped around me darlin’.” He grunted, whistling immediately after as he continued to stare you down. “’M hooked on you now, pretty girl.”

You let yourself fall backward as he leaned forward, keeping a finger on your clit, still rubbing small circles, driving you absolutely mad. His lips ghosted over yours and he held himself there. His eyes screwed shut as his rhythm began to pick up.

“Holy shit Joel, don’t know how much more I can take.” You managed to squeak out.

“Is my cock too much for ya? That’s too damn bad, I’m never givin’ her up now. Gonna make her mine, make her full of me.” His breath was hot on your mouth.

You cried out as he continued to hit the most sensitive spot in your cut, you were getting so close, especially with his finger on your clit.

"Look at how drunk you're gettin' on my cock, takin' it so well for me."

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. You began to grow louder with each thrust until you suddenly burst, stars and blackness clouding your vision. You started to collapse and fall backward but Joel moved a hand from your leg and placed it behind you, steadying you.

“Mmm, couldn’t wait for me could ya?” He sent a smack down to your clit, removing his fingers. You were still convulsing with aftershocks so the smack to your sensitive only added to the experience, making the stars in your vision explode.

His groans began to grow louder as he got closer to his release. His pace sloppier as his cock started to twitch inside of you.

Suddenly, he started to explode inside of you, painting your walls with his thick cum. He pulled out just as it started and started to cum all over the outside of your pussy, he drug some up to your stomach as he rested his length there for just a second.

You were finally starting to come back to life when you noticed how incredibly sticky you were about to be.

You swopped your pointer finger down to the small little pile of cum that had collected right underneath your belly button and ran your finger through it, collecting it pad of your finger. You brought that finger to your mouth and sucked the sticky sweet residue off as he watched. His eyes grew wide and his eyebrows shot to the top of his forehead.

“You tasted me, Miller. It was only fair I get to do the same. I’ve gotta say, we taste so good together.” You moaned out the last part, watching as his pupils dilate with your words.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Gotta give an old man a second to recover before you say shit like that.” He looked away from you as he whistled out, grabbing his boxers off the floor, bringing them up to you, and cleaning you off.

You let him swipe the thin cotton material over your sensitive parts, breathing out as your swollen pussy was taken care of by him. As soon as you were cleaned up, Joel motioned for you to come closer to where he was, getting up off the table. You obeyed and walked over to where he was standing. Your legs were weak and wobbly, which Joel took notice of.

“Care for some help there darlin'?” He said, looking down at you. You just nodded as you held your arms up. You two seemed to understand each other because he swooped you up off your feet and carried you up the stairs, stopping in front of his door when you heard the door below you slam. You were naked, curled up in Joel’s arms as he held you and his boxer briefs, which he’d used to clean you up.

As the door slammed, Joel pushed into his room, tossing his briefs somewhere before shutting the door behind him. You were tired from the long shift of patrol and your vigorous nighttime activity so you were beginning to fall asleep in Joel’s arms. You couldn’t even seem to care that your clothes were strewn apart on the living room floor downstairs, giving whoever had just walked in a hint as to what the previous activities had just been.

He laid you down on his bed and tucked you in under the covers. The soft cotton and smell of Joel overtook you fast. You heard a whistle coming from outside the door, as Joel tugged on his sweatpants. His bedroom door opened as he left the room. All you could hear was Ellie giving Joel shit and him rushing down the stairs to gather all of the articles of clothing you two had left strewn about. You tried to keep your eyes open but with the high still lingering in your head and your body completely worn out, it was pretty impossible. You waited for a second as you heard his feet pound up the stairs. The door opened and a pile of clothes fell onto the floor in front of the door, Joel coming in and closing it behind him.

You watched with hooded eyes as he climbed into bed from the other side. He pulled you into him, resting your head on his chest.

“I had fun tonight.” You managed to say before closing your eyes. You took in his scent once more and the feel of his chest against your cheek before you began to drift off into sleep. Joel said something back to you but you were unable to hear it as you drifted off, grateful for weed and grateful for dining room tables.

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 793: The palms of their hands

Pag 1

1: Holding hands with you rival

Pag 2

1: Grasping tightly the gratitude

They're moving forward... to the future!!

Pag 3

1: 1500m left until the mountain line!!

Pag 4

2: You're kidding....

He's coming....?

He's getting closer?

3: So odd, and yet I thought I had left him behind completely

This is “three times”, isn't it?

5: He's coming

And moreover

Pag 5

1: He's doing it while singing!!

Even though Hakogaku's Manami had left him so much behind in a moment...

Mountain King is getting closer!!

He's not giving up!!

The distance is closing!!

That's right ♪ I know ♪ If you do this ♪

Pag 6

1: The princess' wish ♪

2: Will come true ♪

3: Mountain King is amazing!! He's humming a tune!!

I heard of this, Mountain King becomes faster when he hums a tune!!

What, amazing!

The magic singing!!

I'll try singing too next time I'll climb!

4: No

It's not magic

5: For you, that “song”

Pag 7

1: it's a device to activate your power!!

2: Like a car's key

3: To carry people and luggage up a mountain road a vehicle needs both a sturdy body, small parts

4: and a powerful engine

5: For bikes, the “body”

Pag 8

1: Practice, repetition, recovery, determination, challenges- everything

2: piles up!!

3: Only someone who has worked

4: tirelessly, without rest....

Pag 9

1: Could get to this position of the mountain stage on the Inter High's first day!!

2: And he can even keep up with my “three times”!!

4: I see, so that's what it means

You piled everything up during this past year...

Pag 10

1: Ouch

2: Ah, damn, I pressed something weird

Ah....

3: Oh, I have a message

Ah, it's from Sakamichi-kun

Ah... it's from three months ago..

Hehehe, ops

4: What is it, what is it...? “Do you remember? The promise we made on the last day?”

Oh... I remember

“We said 'let's race for the mountain stage on the first day next time'”

Ah.. we did, we did

6: “Are we still on for that?”

8: “Of course”

Pag 11

1: To protect your promise with me!!

Wait, Manami-kun!!

Princess ♪...!!

2: Sakamichi-kun!!

3: Manami-kun!!

Pag 12

1: Mountain King caught up!!

He caught Hakogaku's Manami, who had attacked and opened the gap!!

2: He's not surrendering!!

Neither of them is surrendering!!

1200m left until the mountain line!!

Pag 13

1: Now another race...

2: starts!!

4: They're both taking the curve

5: while colliding against each other!!

Pag 14

1: Aaaaaa

Soooreeee

I won't surrender!!

2: They're still neck and neck!!

3: Amazing!

Pag 15

1: From the inner side!!

2: Sooreeee

Manami fell back for a moment and then forced his way forward!!

They hit each other!!

5: The trees are getting lower again

6: One more time...

Pag 16

1: Let's go, “three times”!!

Pag 17

2: Manami used the wind and accelerated again!!

Incredible, what's that!

3: What about Mountain King!?

Pag 18

1: Musical note shaped wings!?

Pag 19

1: Aaaaaaaa

2: Amazing

3: It's just like you

4: You were so desperate to catch me that you unconsciously used the wind to accelerate

5: Interesting!!

Pag 20

1: Mountain King is clinging to him!! I thought Manami had attacked but

Manami didn't get away!!

He caught up with such a weird acceleration!?

Amazing!

2: Maybe your singing is something more than a key

3: Ahhhh

5: These past three years have been fun

Huh!?

Pag 21

1: I'm glad you were here for the past three years

3: Huh... ah!!

4: Thank you

Pag 22

2: Such a close battle like this, such a once-in-a-lifetime battle like this, it could only have been with you

3: Yeah... yeah!!

“The past three years”....!!

4: No, that, I should be the one saying that, really!!

5: That's right... this is my match against Manami-kun...

Pag 23

1: Let's go until the mountain line

2: Let's give everything we have

3: Let's make the most of every second of the time we have left!!

5: 1km until the end....

Pag 24

1: It's the final climb!!

Pag 25

1: Yeah!!

Pag 26

3: Th-thank god I made it in time...

This... I couldn't miss this today

4: Sangaku said that

5: “It will be the culmination of the past three years”

[boop-le-snoot]

| existing masterlist post here |

kinktober 2024

Bun writes? sure hope it does! After a long hiatus, I crawl out of my hole... to present (written) hole...

I don't think the concept of kinktober needs an introduction, so without further ado, planned story list under the cut. As I post throughout the month, the list will become clickable. As always, comments and likes are welcome but reblogs will land you squarely in reader heaven. My ask box is open to scream and be as feral as you want to. I accept hate mail too, but it has to be witty, none of that weak ‘kys’ shit.

the word ‘kink’ in the ‘tober is loosely used. I mostly mean to shrug off some of the accumulated plotbunny brainrot from my drafts. each fic has a song from my writer playlist, which I am sharing because I love hard rock & heavy metal and you should love em, too. I did illegal drugs while writing this, btw. In case you wanted to read something written by a Cool Person™®©..

some of these might read as iffy on consent but they are not intended as such & everything here is implied to be wanted and fully consensual, including any sadism, masochism and mindfuckery.

‼️ blank blogs interacting with this post, the fics and my blog will be blocked on sight ‼️

Oct 1 | rop!Adar | daddy kink

Oct 2 | Thranduil | aphrodisiac

Oct 3 | rop!Gil-Galad | restraints

Oct 4 | Loki | temperature play

Oct 5 | Thor | exhibitionism

Oct 6 | Tony Stark | innocence kink + roleplay

Oct 7 | lotr!Celeborn | concubinage, collars

Oct 8 | rop!Gil-Galad | deepthroating

Oct 9 | ginger twink Sauron | crack

Oct 10 | Dr. Strange | medical kink

Oct 11 | lotr!Elrond & lotr!Celeborn & lotr! Thranduil | orgy (foursome?) & objectification

Oct 12 | goldsick!Thorin | rough sex & lingerie

Oct 13 | lotr!Galadriel & Celeborn | petplay

Oct 14 | Lindir | coming untouched, overstim

Oct 15 | Feren | ‘secretly’ in public

Oct 16 | Doc Ock | tentacles

Oct 17 | Thranduil | femdom, worship

Oct 18 | rop!Adar | masochism, psychological horror

Oct 19 | Negan | age gap, leather & lace

Oct 20 | Bruce Banner | breathplay

Oct 21 | Stucky | spitroasting

Oct 22 | Glorfindel | hair kink (weird noldor edition)

Oct 23 | Tony Stark | armour

Oct 24 | Thranduil | spanking & anal

Oct 25 | free square. will freestyle something

Oct 26 | poly!avengers | birthday gangbang

Oct 27 | Fili & Kili | freeuse

Oct 28 | to be announced...

Oct 29 | ironstrange | daddy kink w/rich men

Oct 30 | to be announced...

Oct 31 | Loki | spooky surprise!

[scary-grace]

Enough to Go By (Chapter 18) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19

Chapter 18

You store your backpack in the lockers provided for the purpose, then step into the line for the metal detector. You looked up what to expect when you visit somebody in jail, and so far everything checks out. It’s a long line. You wait your turn, step through the metal detector with no incident, and make your way up to the check-in desk. The officer behind it gives you a cursory glance. “Name?”

You give it, along with your birthdate, and she types it into her computer. A moment later her expression relaxes. She’s just seen that you’re quirkless, which means she can let you in without any special accommodations or extra guards. “Who are you here to see?”

“Aiba Manami,” you say. “My cousin.”

You haven’t been reading the news very much. You wouldn’t have known that Manami and the villain she works with had been arrested if Isuzu hadn’t texted you in all caps, asking if you’d seen the news and dropping the link when you said you hadn’t. And sure enough, there was Manami’s picture, right next to her villain crush’s at the top of the article – only they didn’t call her Aiba Manami. They called her La Brava, the name her villain gave her.

Isuzu was scandalized when you asked if anyone in the family had gone to visit her. You knew that meant no, so on your next three-day gap, you made plans to go see her. And here you are, hanging out in a visitation room, waiting for the guards to bring her in. You’re the only one in this particular room, and you know why. Manami’s quirk is useless without her villain nearby, and they’ve almost certainly separated them. And you don’t have a quirk, so you're useless overall. It’s safe. Enough.

When the guards bring Manami in, it’s clear that she’s been crying. A lot. Her eyes are red, and her permanent dark circles are augmented by bruises from rubbing them. She looks shocked to see you at first, but it’s not long before her eyes fill with tears again. “I didn’t think anyone would come. The family is so mad –”

“Fuck the family,” you say. Tomura and the others must be rubbing off on you. You never used to swear this much, as evidenced by the fact that Manami’s jaw drops and a startled, nervous laugh sneaks out. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. I’ve been kind of keeping my head down.”

Manami’s gaze sharpens. “Why?”

“Um – no reason. Not really.” You need to be more careful. There’s nothing you’ve said so far that doesn’t sound suspicious. “Should we sit down?”

Manami sits down on the table, and you sit down in a chair. She’s so tiny that even the height boost from the table doesn’t put her at eye level with you. “How are you doing?” you ask, before she can ask you anything. “I don’t know all of what happened, obviously, but I – um –”

“Gentle fought Midoriya, and he lost.” Manami sniffles, while you try to conceal your shock. Midoriya Izuku really gets around. “My love wasn’t strong enough.”

“I bet that’s not it,” you say at once. “That kid’s just berserk. Nobody who runs into him gets away clean.”

Manami picks her head up out of her hands to give you a weird look. You look back, trying not to panic. Your brain-dead civilian act won’t work on Manami – she’s known you your whole life, and she knows the kind of tricks you play to fly under the radar. Then her gaze slides away from yours, and her eyes fill with tears again. “If I had just loved him more –”

“Did he say that? Your – uh, Gentle?” If he did, you and he are going to have words at some point. You might not be very intimidating, but your friends are terrifying, and you’ve picked up a few tricks from them.

“No.” Manami wipes her eyes again. “Of course not. Gentle loves me. He would never. Have you – have you seen him? I don’t even know where he’s being held.”

You shake your head. “I can find out if you want.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful! I haven’t seen him in so long!” Manami’s expression transforms. You really hope that’s not what you look like when you think about Tenko. “You should meet him. He’s the most handsome man in the world, and he’s so refined and elegant – and honorable – and tall! Tall boys always thought I was too short, but he can carry me around all day if he wants to.”

You absorb that image with some difficulty. “Nobody in here understands,” Manami continues. “They say I’m too nice to have ended up a villain, but they’re only saying that now that it’s too late. Everyone was cruel to me before. None of them cared. Except him.”

She looks back at you, her eyes bright. “Our charges aren’t that bad. They can’t keep us here forever. I know we’ll be together again once we’re out.”

You envy her confidence, and the fact that she’s right. If Tenko gets captured, he’s never getting out of prison. The only way you’ll be together is if he wins. “I’ll find out where Gentle is,” you promise, and Manami smiles. It shouldn’t be hard to do. Kazuo could probably find out without even touching his quirk. “I’d like to meet him sometime. I’m glad there’s somebody who makes you this happy.”

“Really?” Manami looks surprised. “My mom called me and yelled at me about him. And my dad. Everybody.”

“Fuck them,” you say patiently. The sooner Manami picks up that attitude about your whole stupid family, the better. “If he treats you well and makes you happy, that’s what I care about. Even if he likes tea a little too much.”

“Ugh, that’s how we got caught!” Manami flops backwards onto the table. “Midoriya Izuku ran into us and Gentle had to say something about him ruining the aftertaste of the special tea – and then Midoriya knew about the tea – so then Gentle had to talk to him about it –”

This sounds like a train wreck. “I didn’t know tea could do that.”

“Me. Either.” Manami sighs. “He was so excited that somebody else might like the weird stuff he likes. I can’t be mad at him for loving stuff. Even if he was dumb about it.”

She glances at you. “What would you do if your boyfriend was doing something dumb?”

“Drag him out of there.” That’s basically what you did that night in the convenience store, and you and Tenko weren’t even dating. “But I’m taller than you. It works a little better.”

“I knew it!” Manami crows, and you jump. “I knew you had a boyfriend! You didn’t even deny it.”

Manami’s sneaky. You forgot about that. “I was being hypothetical.”

“No you weren’t. You aren’t very good at makeup,” Manami says. You freeze. “Maybe you could fool a boy, but any girl could see that hickey from space.”

You clap your hand over the side of your neck, but it’s already way too late, and Manami laughs so hard she starts crying again. Maybe you’re bad at makeup, but you’re going to blame this one on Tenko – Tenko, who missed being crushed to death by inches seven times during the last fight cycle, and was so strung out on adrenaline that you could barely get him to focus long enough to try to fuck him to sleep. If he couldn’t focus on that, there was no way he could focus on not being loud, and he bit down hard on you to muffle himself so the others wouldn’t figure out what was going on.

There wasn’t time for you to grab a condom, so your first errand of the next fight cycle was the morning-after pill, followed by drugstore-brand makeup to cover up the bite mark. Apparently you did a bad job. A really bad job. “How do I fix it?”

“Tell me about the boy first.” Manami wipes her eyes. “Do you have a picture?”

You do. It’s old, and it’s in a locket around your neck, and your hand twitches upwards to it before you can stop yourself. Manami’s eyes track the motion. “Let me see.”

You hesitate. There’s a chance that Manami will be able to recognize Tenko – she went to your fifth and sixth birthday parties, and he was at both of them – but even if she recognizes him as a kid, she probably won’t be able to match his face to Tomura’s as an adult. You unclasp the locket and hand it over. “This is him as a kid. I don’t have a recent one.”

“Oh, he’s cute.” Manami tilts her head, studying the photo – and then her eyes widen. Her voice goes whisper-quiet, so much that you have to lean in to hear. “He’s alive?”

You nod. “He’s who I think he is,” Manami says, and you nod again. Of course she guessed. She’s a villain, and you know for a fact that villains keep track of each other’s press clippings. You should have thought of that, but you didn’t. Maybe you wanted her to know. “How?”

“They took him.” You’re not sure how else to phrase it subtly. Manami closes the locket and hands it back to you. Her hand is shaky. Yours is steady. “I’m lucky I found him again.”

“Lucky?” Manami shakes her head. “No.”

“What do you mean, no? Look at your boyfriend.”

“My boyfriend is a gentleman thief. He’s refined and elegant and he wants to write his name into history by making things better.” Manami’s proud of him, proud in a way you can’t be proud of Tenko, and your stomach twists with guilt. “Yours did – that.”

She’s pointing at the bite mark on your neck, the one she was teasing you over a few minutes ago. Now it’s something evil, just because of who left it there. “I could be into that,” you say, and she gives you a frustrated look. “It’s not any different than you.”

“It is. Look at me.” Manami gestures to herself, her eyes brightening with tears again. “Me and Gentle don’t hurt anyone. Gentle wants to help people and show them another way. What does your boyfriend want?”

To tear the world down, so something better can be built by people who know what needs to be fixed – but he has to tear it down first, and that will come with casualties. Lots of them. You’re slow to answer, trying to package it in a way that doesn’t sound insane and terrifying, and Manami takes your hesitation for what it is. “You don’t have to do this,” she says. “You’re not like I was. You have friends. You have a real job you like, and you’re normal. I mean, quirkless, but normal.”

Not quirkless, but that doesn’t matter. You stare her down, daring her to say what she actually means. To her credit, she does. “You don’t have a reason to do this,” Manami says, and she talks right over you when you protest that you do. “That means you have a choice. It doesn’t have to be him.

“I don’t have a choice,” you say. If she’d just let you talk, you could have explained, but you don’t need that many words to do it. “I –”

You’re trying to say you love him. If you can’t say you love him – to your cousin, who knows all about love that ruins you – who can you say it to? You try again. “I don’t have a choice. I – I lo – I do. I lo –”

Manami’s hand clamps down over your mouth. “Don’t,” she orders. “You have to save it.”

“What?” Your voice is muffled. “I can’t say it. I’m trying. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Why can’t I say –”

“You can. You have to save it for when it counts.” The door to the visitation room opens, and over Manami’s shoulder, you see a guard step through. Two guards. No, three. “You’ll find Gentle, won’t you? You promised –”

“I’ll find him,” you say. You grasp Manami’s hand, hold it tight. “And I’ll be back to visit you. I promise.”

“Please think about what I said,” Manami says. She looks worried – worried, and sad, and even when the guards come to collect her, she hesitates long enough to try one more time. “It’s not too late. You don’t have to be like me.”

You thought you and Manami would be on the same page about things, since you’re both in love with villains, but apparently not. Apparently Manami sees the League as much worse than Gentle Criminal, just like the League sees Overhaul as worse than they are – and she’s worried about you. Yoshimi’s worried about you, according to Mitsuko and Ryuhei, but Manami’s worry worries you more. And then there was what she said while you were stuttering and panicking around the admission that you love someone you’ve loved in one way and another for almost your entire life. Save it for when it counts. What does that mean?

“Wait.” A guard stops you as you try to walk out through the metal detector and you nearly jump out of your skin. “Take that off.”

He’s pointing at your locket, and your hand flies up to cover it. “Yeah, that,” the guard says. “Take it off before you walk through.”

“It was fine before,” you say. Your nerves are jangling. “Why do I have to take it off now?”

“The prisoner touched it.”

“So you think her quirk works on a locket?” You can’t be combative right now. You can’t make waves – but you’re angry with yourself, angry with Manami, and you don’t want to hide it. “She touched my hand, too. Are you going to make me take that off?”

“Take it off or I’ll detain you,” the officer says. If you’re detained, they’ll search your backpack, and if it comes down to them looking at a baby photo of Tenko or checking out the gun in your backpack, you know which one you prefer. You take off the locket and drop it into the guard’s palm. “Thanks for your cooperation.”

You stand there, seething, as he pries open the locket and studies the photo inside. It occurs to you that the guards were watching you and Manami, that they saw her reaction when she opened it. Of course they’d want to take a look. But the guard never met Tenko, doesn’t know what to look for, and after a moment, he hands the locket back. “Was that so hard?”

“No,” you admit. You look down, bite your lip, the picture of quirkless contrition. “Sorry. It just means a lot to me.”

“Of course,” the guard says magnanimously. They’re all magnanimous once somebody gives in. “Go on.”

You walk through the metal detector again, retrieve your backpack and your phone, and step out of the jail. It’s a sunny day, but it’s cold, and you wish you’d brought a heavier coat. Or a scarf. It’s not hard to imagine that the bite mark is beaming like a searchlight from your neck, letting everybody know just how bad your boyfriend is at keeping quiet. You alter your priorities. You’ll get a scarf first. The firing range will still be there after you’ve covered up.

This far into the fight against Gigantomachia, and your errands during each fight cycle have taken on a new pattern. Food and sleep first – as guilty as you feel for eating hot food and sleeping in a bed when Tenko can’t, you’d feel guiltier if you made a mistake because you were too hungry and sleep-deprived to keep a clear head. Once you’ve gotten that out of the way, you do a few things to maintain the ruse that you’re on a leave of absence from work, then check up on the others.

Usually that means corralling Toga, or finding Compress before he can fence whatever he’s stolen. He’s recognizable enough that it’s safer for you to fence it yourself. You worry less about Spinner. Spinner tends to stick close. If he’s not shadowing Tomura or passed out and snoring, he’s usually following you. Once you’ve checked up on them, made sure they’re eating and sleeping in addition to whatever else, you run an errand of your own. You’ve got a gun now. You need to make sure you can use it.

You go to at least one firing range every fight cycle, sometimes more. You’ve learned how to tense yourself against the recoil from a shot, how to load and reload quickly, how to clean the gun, disassemble it, and fix any problems with it before they get work. The main thing, the most important thing, is shot selection and accuracy. Your accuracy is decent – not quite as decent as it is in Call of Duty, but above average. It got a lot better once you stopped trying to aim for the head.

You don’t need to aim for the head. You don’t want to kill somebody. What you need to do is slow them down long enough for you or your friends to get away, and that means hitting somewhere in the center mass. The fact that gunshots to the center mass can kill somebody just as easily as shots to the head is something you try not to think about. You’ve got a lot of practice not thinking about stuff by now. Enough that you can almost forget about the casualties that will result from tearing everything down, and forget basically everything Manami said except her stories about her villain boyfriend and your twin promises to visit her again and find out where he is.

You text Kazuo to ask if he knows where Gentle Criminal is being held, telling him specifically not to use his quirk to find out, and put your phone away. Then you step into your booth at the firing range.

You’re good enough at it now – barely – that you can practice firing one-handed, firing from positions other than square-on in front of your target. You’re also practicing using the gun for something other than shooting people. One of the guys at the firing range in Nagoya, an ex-cop who took a shine to you in a way that made you deeply uncomfortable, told you that a gun’s not helpful at a distance of less than twenty feet. Somebody with a knife can close that distance faster than you can fire. Dodging a knife strike and clocking somebody in the side of the head is a better bet, so today you’re practicing that, too. You’re as useless with a latent quirk as you were without one, so finding another way to be useful in a fight is your top priority. A stupid latent quirk is the same thing as no quirk at all.

But even as you practice firing one-handed, firing from a crouched position, firing from the floor, you can’t shake off what Manami said. Her hand covering your mouth, her order to save it for when it counts. Save what? The I love you? Sure – you should probably tell Tenko before you tell anybody else, as soon as you figure out how to get the words out of your mouth. What was weird was how intense Manami was about it, but Manami’s always been intense about love. Intense enough to cover your mouth about it? Maybe. Maybe she just wanted you to shut up about how much you love Shigaraki Tomura, aspiring of the supervillains, while you’re in the visiting room at a jail. She’s been at this longer than you have. She’s better at it.

She’s the second person to point out that Tenko’s hurt you, and she and Mitsuko had the same reaction. You’d be worried about it if you didn’t know the whole story, but you can’t explain that your boyfriend bit you because he’s loud in bed or that he hates letting even you see him cry. You also can’t explain that you don’t hate the bitemark, that you don’t want people to see it but aren’t mad that it’s there. You definitely can’t explain that you’re trying to build a new world, and you’re terrified of the thought that he won’t be in it with you.

And there’s no possible way to explain that you’ve weighed the world against the idea of losing Tenko again and decided that keeping him was more important. Not without sounding insane and selfish and awful. Not without sounding like a villain.

You stay at the firing range, drilling over and over again until the time you’ve paid for runs out, and then you check your timer. Four hours before the end of the next fight cycle, and the new base camp is two and a half hours away. That’s plenty of time for you to get there before Tenko does.

Or at least that’s what you think. There’s a disruption in the train service, courtesy of some villain, somewhere, and you wait as ten minutes, forty-five minutes, an hour and a half tick by. There’s no way you’re going to make it there by the end of the fight cycle, and you might miss the break entirely. You have to be there. You need to see Tenko and make sure he eats and sleeps, so that the next fight cycle doesn’t end with him being killed. This far in, he’s barely alive. You don’t know how he’s keeping it together. You don’t know how anyone is.

Another twenty minutes slip past with agonizing slowness. You’re getting desperate. If Kurogiri was here, you’d have options, but he was captured months ago, and you don’t know anyone else who has a –

Yes, you do. You dig the earpiece the doctor gave you out of your backpack and activate it, jamming it into your ear. The doctor’s already on the other end of the line, and that strikes you as weird, but you don’t have a chance to think about it any more before he speaks. “I was just about to reach out to you, Saintess. There’s been a development.”

Your blood turns to ice. Tenko can’t be dead. He’d have told you first if Tenko was dead. If Tenko was dead, you’d know. “What is it?”

“Shigaraki Tomura has devised a plan to destroy both of his enemies at once – the Metal Liberation Army, which has challenged him to a battle, and Gigantomachia, whom he has yet to defeat.” The doctor doesn’t explain who the MLA is, but he doesn’t need to. You’re quirkless. You know all about the people who want to make society’s might-makes-right thing explicit instead of poorly concealed. “I’ve just transported he and the others to the outskirts of the battlefield. He gave me explicit instructions to keep you away from the fight.”

“No,” you say at once. “I’m the medic. They need me. I have to be there.”

“My thoughts exactly,” the doctor says. Oh. “I believe you could be very useful indeed. Stand by for transport.”

You hold still. The doctor heaves a dramatic sigh. “That means get out of sight, dear.”

You’re an idiot. You duck into the bathroom at the train station and lean back against the door, blocking anyone from coming in. “I’m out of sight.”

“Excellent,” the doctor says. A moment later, your mouth fills with black sludge.

When you get to the edge of the city that must be the battleground, the fight’s already in full swing. You can tell by the clouds of dust that are rising, the flashes of blue flame appearing and vanishing just as quickly. Tomura must have called for Dabi. Dabi, but not you. Dabi can fight.

“Allow me to provide the lay of the land,” the doctor says. “The Meta Liberation Army has a hundred thousand members in this city alone. Shigaraki’s objective is to hold them off, without drastically reducing their numbers, long enough for Gigantomachia to awaken and pursue him here – where he will theoretically clash with the MLA and incur enough damage to allow Shigaraki to defeat him.”

It’s brilliant. Tomura’s plans these days usually are. But when you check your phone for the time, your heart sinks. “They’ve still got an hour left. That’s too long.”

“That’s where you come in, my dear. The MLA left you out of their calculations entirely due to your perceived quirklessness.” The doctor sounds smug as all hell. “I’ll direct you where you’re needed. With that gun of yours, the amount of ammunition you’re carrying, and the practice you’ve been putting in, you should be quite effective in thinning the MLA’s ranks – assuming, of course, that you’re willing to get your hands dirty.”

You made that decision a while ago. You put on your veil and crown. It’ll complicate your vision, but you couldn’t practice with it on. “I’ll do what needs to be done to keep Tomura safe.”

“Let’s hope he proves worthy of your devotion. Descend into the city. Avoid the main avenues and work your way towards the tower in the center.

It’s a distance down to the city, and the doctor put you on a rocky slope. There’s probably a defined path down, but you don’t want to waste time looking for it, and you roll and slide and tumble your way down to level ground, the doctor tsking in your ear the entire time. You ignore him and choose a deserted side street, working your way towards the chaos in the center of the city. The doctor gives you periodic updates. “Toga has neutralized her opponents, but she was injured – no, no, my dear, your objective is Shigaraki.”

“I’m the medic. If Toga is hurt –”

“Twice is on his way to assist her, and her injuries aren’t immediately life-threatening.” The doctor’s voice takes on a bite of impatience. “You’ll be able to aid her later, assuming Shigaraki’s plan succeeds – which it may not do if you waste time here.”

Helping Toga isn’t wasting time. But there’s a bigger picture here, and you know it. You pick up the pace again, jogging through the streets, until the doctor tells you to stop. “Dabi and Compress are near. Dabi’s opponent could stand to be distracted. Avoid being seen.”

So you can’t help Toga, but you can help Dabi? The doctor’s priorities are pissing you off. You creep closer, pivoting down a small alley and climbing into a building, peering out a broken window for a better view. There’s Dabi, and Compress. And there’s his opponent, some guy with white hair in a blue coat, who’s doing his best to crush Dabi and Compress under a hail of ice.

Strategy isn’t your strongest suit, but this one is easy. Dabi is the League’s only ranged combatant – other than you, and you barely count. If Dabi loses this fight and switches to chasing Tomura, it’s over. Ice Guy is moving around a lot. You take out your gun, make sure it’s loaded, make sure there’s a round in the chamber. You can’t stay here long. You have to get out fast, so you give yourself three shots to get the job done. You peer up over the window frame, steady yourself, flip off the safety, and hook your finger around the trigger. Ice Guy is holding still for once, bantering about something with Dabi. Perfect.

You fire all three shots in a tight burst, but you aren’t solid at this distance, or this angle. You miss with all three, and you cringe in embarrassment. Ice Guy falters for a second, looking around wildly for the source of the gunfire. You drop to the floor and belly-crawl out of sight, gritting your teeth at the amused note in the doctor’s voice. “Obviously it would have been better if you’d hit him, but he’s unsettled enough to hand Dabi a momentary advantage. All Dabi must do is make use of it.”

You make your way into the building’s back lot, then through a gate onto a quieter street. This one is lined with piles of dust. Big piles of dust, and two sets of footprints through them. “Tomura was here. And Spinner?”

“Yes, although Spinner’s unable to compensate for Shigaraki’s near-incapacitation.” The doctor gives you a new direction to run in and keeps talking. “I admire your efforts to keep him healthy, but they’re ultimately futile. The exhaustion will kill him sooner rather than later.”

“Later,” you correct. He can die of exhaustion when you’re both ninety. “Where are they?”

“Continue straight, then turn left at the next major intersection.” There’s an edge in the doctor’s voice now. “If I were you, I’d hurry.”

You pick up the pace, furious with yourself for not being able to move faster. Training with a weapon clearly wasn’t enough – on your days off, you should have been improving your physical fitness, enough that scrambling from house to house as cover on a street parallel to the one Tomura and Spinner are traveling on would be nothing to you. You turn left at the next intersection and you’re bolting down the street when the doctor orders you to hide, his voice loud and sharp. You dive into the shelter of the nearest fenced yard just in time to see a horde of figures dressed in black and white stampede down the street Tomura and Spinner are apparently on. It looks like Twice. Twice, but hundreds of him.

You thought his quirk would only let him make two copies, and he never copies himself. What happened? “It appears his quirk has awakened,” the doctor says, and you realize you’ve spoken aloud. “If only the same thing would happen to you.”

“If I could do that, I’d know.” You poke your head up over the fence to see if it’s clear, and one of the Twice clones spots you. Shit. You duck down out of sight, but you know he’s coming. “What should I do?”

You hate yourself for asking, and the doctor doesn’t answer. At least not in a way that’s helpful. “Your objective is to aid Shigaraki. Proceed with that in mind.”

Before you can even begin to parse that, the Twice clone reaches over the fence and grabs your arm, pulling you upright. “Hey, you’re not supposed to be here! Shigaraki said to keep you away!”

“I’m supposed to be here. I’m the medic.” You struggle to pull your arm free, but he’s stronger than you. “Let go. I have to help him –”

“We’re helping him.” The clone’s chest puffs with pride. “Don’t worry, sister. Your boyfriend’s in good hands!”

You need to get away from Twice. You need to get away from him right now. What’s the chance that this is the real Twice? Next to none – you can’t imagine the real Twice leaving Toga’s side if she’s hurt. With that in mind, what you’re about to do should have no consequences whatsoever. “I’m sorry,” you say to the clone, and you strike him so hard in the side of the head with the barrel of your gun that he collapses instantly into sludge.

“Wonderful. It seems you weren’t lying – your devotion to Shigaraki does extend to getting your hands dirty.” The doctor sounds pleased. You don’t feel like anything at all. “Continue your pursuit course. Shigaraki has pulled ahead of Spinner, but you shouldn’t have trouble catching him.”

You decide against using the main streets, opting instead to hop fences and cut through backyards and alleyways. You don’t want to have to kill any more Twice clones. You don’t have the greatest view, but you’re sure the doctor will tell you if you need to speed up. Tomura might be in the midst of a battle, high on adrenaline, but you’ve eaten and slept in the last three days, so you must have the advantage in speed. You’ll catch him soon. You have to.

You hear the screech of tires, followed by the sound of hundreds of feet on the road – and then a voice, booming out through a megaphone. The voice that responds is quiet and thin in comparison, but you recognize it. It’s Spinner’s voice. Is Tomura with him? No, the doctor would have told you to change course, and he’s said nothing of the kind. Out of everyone in the League, Spinner’s the most loyal to Tomura, second only to you. He wouldn’t leave Tomura for anything. You break the back window of one of the houses, climb in, and pick your way through until you’re peering through the front window. There are too many people in the way. You head for the stairs.

Once you’ve got the elevation, it’s obvious – Spinner’s trapped in the middle of an angry mob. There’s a news van blocking his way, and a guy standing on top of it. He’s calling Spinner by what must be Spinner’s real name and saying the kind of things that make you see red. Spinner shouts back, owning it – owning weakness, owning a lack of vision, owning unimportance except as a follower to better people. That’s not all he is. You don’t let anybody talk to your friends like that, your friends included.

You need to do something. “No,” the doctor hisses in your ear. “Pursue Shigaraki. Leave him.”

“No,” you say. The doctor makes a scathing, offended sound into the phone. “That’s not who I am.”

You don’t have enough bullets in your gun or your backpack to take out the entire crowd, but you can handle the guy in charge, and the resulting chaos might be enough of a distraction that you can yank Spinner out unnoticed. Forget this only-three-shots nonsense – you extract another clip from your backpack and set it down beside you, at the ready once you empty this one. You break the window you’ve been peering through, trusting that the mob’s own noise will cover the sound, and screw the silencer onto the end of your gun. You haven’t practiced with it much, or at all, so you don’t know how it’ll disrupt your shot, but between the gun and the clip you have nine shots to get the job done. At least one of them will have to hit.

The man on top of the van has just donned a mask. Probably a support item rather than a shield, but you were never aiming for his head. Your first shot strikes him in the shoulder. He staggers, turning halfway just in time for you to empty the clip, sending two bullets tearing laterally through his torso. You eject the empty clip and load the next, and in the time that takes, your target collapses. His blood is pooling on top of the van, running down the sides. He’s not moving. Unless somebody in the crowd has a serious healing quirk, he’s dead.

You turn away from the window and race back down the stairs, keeping the gun hidden at your side. Most of the mob’s forgotten Spinner in their efforts to help the leader, and Spinner’s crawled through them, heading towards you. He must have guessed who was shooting. He’s the only one in the League who knows about the gun.

You race out of the house to help him up, drag him out of sight. One person notices the two of you, and you shoot them without thinking twice. Not fatally. It won’t be fatal if they get some help soon.

Spinner needs help right now. He’s bleeding, and while you can see the puncture wounds in his shirt, you can’t tell how deep they are. “You’re wasting time,” the doctor hisses in your ear.

You ignore him, but Spinner unknowingly echoes him a moment later. “Don’t worry about me,” he says, grimacing in pain. “Get to Shigaraki. He needs you.”

“I’ll patch you up and we can both go.”

“No, you need to –”

There’s a colossal explosion from somewhere in the distance. At least, you think it’s an explosion. You don’t know what else to call it, except that it’s the loudest sound you’ve ever heard, and it makes the ground rattle beneath your feet. You and Spinner both freeze. “What was that?”

“Change of plans, my dear. Get as far from here as possible.” The doctor’s voice is in your ear again – and in Spinner’s, based on the way Spinner startled. “Shigaraki has engaged the leader of the Liberation Army, and his chances won’t be improved if he’s distracted by your presence.”

“What if I just shoot him?” you ask. Spinner stares at you. “The leader of the Liberation Army. Could I get a clear shot?”

“He’s the size of a house,” the doctor says, and your stomach clenches tight with fear. “You could hit him from the moon if your weapon had the range. But you don’t, and he’ll see you coming, so –”

“He wouldn’t care about me. You said it yourself. I’m quirkless, so I don’t factor in.” You help Spinner straighten up. “I’m Tomura’s sidekick. I can’t let him fight alone.”

“You can if doing it will get you flattened.” Spinner stumbles as the ground shakes again. “Give me the gun. I can do it.”

“You won’t be able to get clear in time.” Get clear in time for what? At the kind of range you’ll need to be effective with a gun this small, you won’t be able to get clear, either. The ground rattles again. “I have to do this.”

“Yes, I believe you must.” The doctor’s voice is crisp and abrupt, almost as abrupt as his change of tune. “I’m quite impressed with Shigaraki’s fortitude. I’ll be sending another gift to assist him in this fight, in addition to you. Spinner, make for the outskirts. I’ll direct you to Toga and Twice. Saintess, head for the center. Stay out of sight as long as you can.”

There’s no time for you to patch Spinner up. The two of you trade a glance and a nod, and then you split up. Spinner books it in the opposite direction of the disaster that’s unfolding at the center of the city, and you run towards it.

What you see there in the midst of the destruction horrifies you. You’ve only caught glimpses of Tomura’s battles with Gigantomachia, but you’ve heard stories from the others, and in spite of the fact that the giant he’s fighting this time is smaller, you can tell from a single glance that his odds are worse. He was tired going into this fight, and he’s already injured beyond what you or anyone else could fix. And unlike Gigantomachia, this giant can talk.

He wants to know what Tomura’s going to do with the world, if he survives. “Is the pursuit of destruction your only worth as a human? The world you wish to create will be as empty as you are.”

“It’s not my world.” Tomura’s face is smeared with blood. One of his legs is twisted at a terrible angle, broken so badly you can’t believe it’s bearing his weight. His left hand is mangled, missing two fingers at least. He can’t fight like this. How could he? “It’s for them. They can choose what’s in it.”

It’s for him, too. If he gives you the chance to build a new world, you’re going to make it worth living in. “They can choose?” The giant scoffs. “Your pack of outcasts and delinquents don’t have that kind of vision. None of you can see beyond your own petty desires and think of the greater good!”

“I don’t need to see it.” Tomura stumbles sideways to avoid a strike, then loses his footing and falls. “She can.”

He’s talking about you. You get set, raise the gun, and fire.

The giant is too bulky for your bullets to make much of an impact. You’d have to hit him in the eyes or the mouth, and you’d have to get closer for that. He reacts to the shot like you’d react to a mosquito bite, mere annoyance and temporary distraction, and Tomura struggles back to his feet long enough to exploit the opening. For a split second you’re drawn back to the games the two of you played as children – facing some terrible villain, distracting them so Tenko could land a decisive blow. The same game as always. Now it’s real.

Even with the giant distracted, Tomura’s injuries are slowing him down. It’s not just that he’s limping. You come closer, unable to stop yourself, and you see how badly he’s favoring his other side. He’s only got one hand, his quirk at half the strength it used to be, and even as your empty the remainder of your clip into the giant’s torso, load another, and fire again, you know you can’t do enough to make this fight one Tomura can win. If you’ve really got a quirk, if there’s something you can do, now’s the time.

But there’s nothing. Why would there be anything? If you had anything more you could do, you’d do it. if running into the middle of things and getting killed to save him would mean he’d win, you’d do it in a heartbeat.

You wouldn’t hesitate, but you won’t get the chance to choose. The giant’s spotted you. He swats Tomura aside with one hand and turns his attention to you. “So you came to join us after all,” he says. You hold your ground. If he comes close enough, you’ll have a clear shot at his eyes. “It’s a shame to say so, Saintess, but there’s no place for your kind in our future. I’ll put you out of your misery.”

You shoot him. It glances off his cheek, and his footsteps rattle the ground, jarring your next shot into thin air. “You’re only resisting the inevitable,” he continues. “Is this truly a world you want to live in? A world where meta abilities are used freely, where your kind are left to occupy the lowest rung of society while the rest of us wait for evolution to wipe you out?”

You’ve heard people with quirks say some truly out-of-touch things, but that might be the worst. You open your mouth for a retort, but instead of a snappy comeback or heartfelt appeal to humanity, laughter pours out. You can’t make it stop, and the giant stares at you, puzzled. Behind him, you see Tomura rising from the dirt, all his weight on his knees and his mangled hand. It only takes a split second’s thought to understand why he’s putting pressure on his injured hand instead of the good one, but it’ll all be for nothing if you can’t give him time. You need the giant to keep looking at you.

He hasn’t looked away. Your semi-hysterical cackling is keeping all his attention. “Is something funny?”

“This world you want,” you start. You have to pause to suck down air, aware that he’s coming closer to you, aware that you can’t let him look back at Tomura. “It’s the same world we have right now. I’ve lived in your perfect world my whole life.”

Tomura steadies himself. You see him steady his right arm with what remains of his left hand before the giant’s bulk fills your vision. You look up at him, holding his gaze even as he raises his hand to crush you to a bloody paste on the ground, and you smile, even though your veil hides your face. “It’s our world now.”

The giant’s fist comes down towards you. You hear a distant scream. A split second later, the ground falls out from beneath you.

You can’t decide if you’re dead or not. You’re falling through a haze of dust and ash, listening to screams that fall abruptly silent, flinching as buildings crack and crumble around you. Above it all there’s a sound you’ve never heard before – half howl of rage, half insane laughter, all rough and painful, as though it’s tearing apart the throat it’s issuing from. Tenko’s still alive. You can’t die yet. You have to get to him.

Maybe your quirk is some kind of willpower, because even though the impact with the ground is agonizing, you’re on your feet within seconds of the hit. You find yourself standing on the edge of a massive crater, one that’s swallowed half the city. You’re not the only one at its edge. You see Spinner, Dabi, Compress, Twice – about a billion clones of Twice, holding as many clones of Toga, and Giran off to one side with a clumsy bandage wrapped around his hand. The League of Villains made it through.

A few members of the Meta Liberation Army made it through, too. They’re staring down into the crater, sheer horror on their faces, as they look at what’s left of their leader.

He amputated his legs to avoid getting caught in the wave of Decay Tomura unleashed, and the part of you that’s a nurse and not a murderer notes that those wounds will need to be cauterized soon if he wants to avoid bleeding out. But the leader of the Meta Liberation army is a footnote, an afterthought. Tomura’s down there, too. Tomura’s on his feet. His hair’s gone pure white, and his right arm’s been torn to shreds.

He and the Liberation Army’s leader are talking. You can’t hear what they’re saying, at least not at first. Not until the leader announces his unconditional surrender and orders his soldiers to lay down their arms – or rather, to turn them over to Shigaraki Tomura, the new leader of the Meta Liberation Army. Tomura’s won, and it’s not just the MLA who’s submitted to him. When you glance at the far side of the crater, you see Gigantomachia crouched there, calm and awaiting orders. It’s a mark of just how focused you are on Tomura that you didn’t even notice.

The enemy leader’s still talking, but Tomura’s not paying attention. He’s looking up, around the edges of the crater, his eyes lingering on each member of the League. Twice and Giran to Twice and Toga, Dabi to Compress to Spinner, and finally to you. You hold his gaze, unsure of whether to take down your veil and smile, not certain if he needs reassurance that you’re okay or if he’s just making sure you’re alive. Then his face goes pale beneath the mask of blood. You see his eyes roll up in his head, and before you can make a move to help him, he pitches sideways, unconscious.

The enemy leader is the one who catches him, and something snaps in your head. You hop the edge of the crater and skid down the slope, racing towards them. You’re not the only one on the move – Spinner and about fifty Twice clones are doing the same thing, and the enemy leader is shouting for help. Somebody with a healing quirk, maybe. Or transport to a hospital. You can’t think. All you can think about is getting Tomura away from the person who was trying to kill him five minutes ago. A person whose soldiers will kill you all without him to lead them.

You pry Tomura out of his grip, slide your backpack off your shoulders, and start giving orders. “Twice, take the sterile pads and start packing them onto his legs.”

“Whose?”

You gesture one-handed at the giant, who’s not so giant anymore. “Re-Destro,” he introduces himself.

“Yeah, him.” Once the Twice clones are in motion, you unwrap the scarf you bought earlier today and shove it into Spinner’s hands. “Use that as a tourniquet for one of his legs. Find something else for the other one.”

Spinner doesn’t question it. You wonder if he’s made the same calculation as you have, figured out that your survival is tied to Re-Destro’s for right now, but now that you’ve got people helping him, you can focus on Tomura. And Tomura is – is –

The rise and fall of his ribcage is lopsided. He’s got a punctured lung. His shirt’s been torn away, and most of his torso is turning a strange mottled color, one you remember all too well from the victims at Kamino. Internal bleeding. His left hand’s down to three fingers. His right arm’s all but flayed. His leg’s broken so badly that you can see pieces of his femur protruding through his skin. The only thing that’s still working properly seems to be his heart. He still has a pulse, but he needs more help than you can give him. You can’t tourniquet internal bleeding. You can’t stitch wounds inside his body. As much as you want to save him, this is out of your skill set by a hundred kilometers.

You hear a helicopter approaching, and when you look up, you see a cross painted on its side. Medevac, but they’re here for Re-Destro, not for Tomura. When he sees the medics approaching, Re-Destro shakes his head. “Take him. I can wait.”

You’re terrified that they won’t listen, but Re-Destro’s minions are loyal. They come to Tomura’s side instead, load him onto a stretcher, and rush him to the helicopter with you chasing after them. One medic turns to tell you to back off and you shout in her face. “I’m a nurse! I can help!”

You’re not sure if she believes you, or if she just believes that you’ll throw yourself in anyway and spend the entire flight clinging to the landing gear if she says no. Whatever her reasons are, she steps aside, and you scramble onto the helicopter alongside Tomura’s stretcher.

You’ve never been inside any helicopter before, and you have a feeling that most of them aren’t this nice. They have actual gear, actual scanners, and while you get pressed into service trying to secure Tomura’s broken leg, then promptly kicked out to deal with his right arm, the medic who let you in runs a scanner over his torso. The image pops up on a screen attached to the cockpit divider, and when you glance up at it, your heart plummets a thousand meters, all the way back to earth.

Internal bleeding, just like you thought. Massive internal injuries, the kind a person can’t come back from, and the medic who ran the scan shakes her head. “Even if we had the blood to transfuse him, we can’t waste resources. This is ATC, and with those injuries – he’s not going to make it to the hospital.”

“No.” Your voice comes out watery and weak. “There’s something you can do. There has to be. I know –”

“You’re a nurse. You should know.” The medic gives you a look. “He’s got minutes. Say your goodbyes.”

It feels unreal. It can’t be real. This can’t be happening. Not like this, not after everything the two of you have been through, not after he’s won. How could you have let this happen to him? You look back up at the scan, hoping desperately that something’s changed and finding nothing. The medic is right. You’re a nurse, and you should know – a patient with injuries this severe isn’t someone who can be saved. No matter how many surgeons could work on them, no matter how many units of blood they might be transfused, there’s no way to hammer life back into a body this damaged. It’s cruel to try.

You lift his right hand, careful to avoid making contact with all his fingers at once. You can’t kiss it, but you bow your head over it all the same, fighting back tears. You can’t face the thought of never hearing his voice again, never linking little fingers with him again, never kissing him or making him laugh or playing another game. You swore you’d follow him through the end of the old world and into the new one. You can’t lose him again. If you could take his place, you would.

“Tenko,” you whisper, even though he can’t hear you, even though everything that matters is already beyond your reach. Maybe that’s why it’s easy to say, why the words are lighter than air on your tongue. “Tenko, I love you.”

You curl over his hand, eyes shut, head bowed. You can’t watch the light leave his face. Feeling his hand go limp and cold will be horrible enough. You stay still and wait as seconds tick past. Seconds, then minutes. The medic said he had minutes. How many minutes did she mean? A spark of hope catches in your chest and you smother it without mercy. He’s gone. You can’t have him back this time. He’s gone.

You hear the medic’s voice, but nothing she says makes sense. “Scan him again.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

You stay where you are until someone nudges you aside, but you don’t open your eyes, and you don’t let go of Tenko’s hand. The scanner hums as it runs over his limp, nearly lifeless body, then emits an excruciatingly loud beep. Even with your eyes shut, you see the flash of the screen coming to life. The medic’s voice is hesitant, stunned. “Holy hell.”

“That’s not possible,” the other medic says. “It isn’t! Not without –”

Both of them stop talking. If they’re not going to explain, you should look up and see for yourself. You open your eyes, and sit up, and that’s when you see the second scan, side-by-side with the first. And they’re – different. The first scan is apocalyptic, unsurvivable. Even someone with no medical training could tell. The second scan is bad, too, but it’s better. Better enough to change his status from black-tagged to red-tagged in the medics’ opinion, because they get back to work, working around you rather than telling you to move.

It’s weird, because you’re definitely in the way. You’d ask you to move, if you were them. Do they need you to help? You ask, and the other medic lets out a cracked, uncomfortable laugh. “You’re more useful where you are.”

“What?” you say blankly. “I don’t understand.”

“I do,” the doctor says in your ear. You’d forgotten he was there. “Tell me what you see.”

You describe the first scan, then the second. “Hm. It sounds to me as if Shigaraki’s body is repairing itself,” the doctor says. “Small repairs, obviously – he still requires major surgery and quite a bit of luck – but even such repairs take hours, days, or even weeks to occur naturally. And here they’ve occurred within the space of a few minutes. My dear Saintess – it seems you have a quirk after all.”

The doctor keeps talking, about how he and All For One are never wrong, how you were so silly to doubt him, how he knew your quirk would awaken if the right circumstances were met, and you ignore him. It’s easy to do, just like it’s easy to ignore the medics as they pivot around you, easy to ignore the pilots’ discussion of which MLA-controlled hospital to make for, easy to ignore the fresh scan that pops up on the screen, revealing even more improvement – impossibly slight, but enough. You focus on holding Tenko’s hand, keeping it safe between yours for the landing on the hospital’s roof, the race down to the operating theater, the hours and hours of surgery that leave you dead-on-your-feet tired, interrupted only by orders to move this way or that.

You’re still holding his hand as they wheel him out of surgery, into the recovery unit off the ICU. Still not thinking. Still ignoring everything but his hand, warm and wrapped in bandages, a pulse still beating in his wrist. He stirs slightly in his sleep, eyelids fluttering half-open with no awareness behind them, and you wonder if he’s in pain, if you can call someone to medicate him so he’ll get a good night’s sleep for the first time in months. Your hands are stiff and frozen around his, locked into position for hours on end, and you force yourself to let go. You might need your hands to help him. You’re still a medic, still a nurse. He might need more from you than this.

You leave your little finger linked with his, though. It’s tradition by now, and tradition, too, to tighten your grip just a little bit, letting him know you’re here. “I love you,” you say, in case he’s listening. It still feels easy to say.

Tenko doesn’t stir, doesn’t open his eyes. But his breathing is even, his heartbeat steady, and his finger hooks a little tighter around yours. He’s all the way under. It’s just a reflex, but you’ll take it as proof: In spite of everything, he’s here, too.